Harry dressed casually the next morning once he finished his run, knowing he would be busy hunting through the vaults all day. He asked the elves to pack him a boxed lunch while he tucked several shrunken trunks and other odds and ends into a shoulder bag. He was trying to do as Master Pitman instructed and add more exercise to his days, but he was not sure how to start. Most of his muscle had been built doing chores for the Dursleys, and he had no idea how to do so without the steady, heavy workload they gave him.
He had one quick errand to run before he headed to Thorburn Castle, he wanted to pick up his ebony wand first. Tugging his cloak down, Harry ducked into the floo, calling out for Master Garnet’s workshop. He stepped out into the front room of the shop, frowning as he tried to spell off the soot covering his cloak.
“Good morning. Is the holly wand giving you trouble?” Master Garnet asked, stepping out of the backroom with a smile to greet Harry.
“More than usual normally, it’s very easy to cast with it. I take it that was part of what the spells on it were forcing?”
“Exactly, Lord Thorburn,” Egret said with a grin, gesturing him to follow along into his workshop. “Your wand was honestly not suited for you at all. The spells that were applied forced it to work for you. It will still do so since it’s been yours for years now, but the reinforcements have been removed. Also, I can imagine your magic has matured and changed as you aged. With the challenges facing you with your guardian, I’m not surprised you’ve found a better matching wand. Give it a try." he said, gesturing Harry forward to where his ebony wand rested on a small stand.
“It looks amazing,” Harry said with a grin, coming forward to examine the wand.
“The handle and shaft are carved with strengthening and focusing runes. I inlaid the carved runes with silver, as you can see, giving them longevity, and the silver itself assists in channeling excess magic.”
“It’s beautiful,” Harry agreed, picking up the wand. A wash of warm magic filled him as soon as his hand hit the handle. He absently noticed Egret backing up as he gave the wand a light swish but gave it no mind, as his hand came down, mist rose to swirl around him, shining with small sparks of light, and a breeze rustled through the shop, rattling the cases and shelves.
“If I may,” Master Garnet said hesitantly, “when I first scanned your core, I was amazed your old wand was still holding up. Your core is almost twice the size of what most adult wizard cores look like, and considering your age, it is still growing. You’ve yet to even reach a stabilized core size!”
“Is that a bad thing?” Harry asked with a blink, absently casting several cleaning spells and watching as they ate the dust and coal smears from his clothes.
“Not in the slightest, the size of a core just determines how much magic a wizard or witch has available. You might live longer than average as the core does shrink in old age, and when it’s finally depleted, a wizard dies.”
“So, how does that affect my wand?”
“In essence, you have more power to fuel your spells and would be able to hold magically draining spells longer than most. Tell me, have you managed to cast any unusual spells for your age?”
“I can cast a patronus,” Harry said softly, casting lumos just to enjoy the smooth, effortless flow of the spell, canceling the light spell after a moment.
“Perfect! Would you mind trying it now? It should be much easier than with your Holly wand, but there might be a slight change in the response.”
“Expecto Patronum,” Harry said, swishing the wand down firmly as he focused on his happy memory of seeing his parents in the mirror of Erised.
The form that burst out of his wand stole the air from his lungs. The stag that filled him with such pride to have another small connection to his parents was gone. Instead, a strange creature he had never seen before watched them with quiet reserve.
“How unusual, I do not think I have ever met a wizard or witch in the last hundred years with a Qilin as its patronus. The Qilin are known for gentleness and longevity, some believed to have been up to 2000 years old, rather like the phoenix. They are thought in the Chinese culture to herald greatness, and its appearance was often matched with the birth of a great hero or ruler.”
The deer-like creature watched them for a long moment before slowly approaching Harry, its hooved feet seeming to float above the ground. The dragon-like face and scaled body did little to distract from the ghost-like dancing flames that skittered along its legs and horns. It examined Harry for a long moment before bowing slightly and dissolving away.
“Can you make the same changes to my Holly wand?” Harry asked, pulling out that wand.
“What, the focusing and strengthening runes?”
“Yes, if what you say about my wand is true, then I’ll need it to be augmented if I have to use it in a pinch.”
“I can, but it will obviously be a customized wand, there will be no hiding the alterations.”
“Can the runes be only on the handle?” Harry asked, considering the layout of the runes on his ebony wand.
“Yes, but it could unbalance the magical flow. I would advise against casting any high-power spells with it unless it’s an emergency, the wand could shatter or the core combust if it becomes unstable during casting.”
Harry frowned, small bits of information from the Animagus training manuals he’d added to his mental library teasing at him. What about the core, the phoenix feather combusting, was bothering him? Yes, he needed the wand to fight the Dark Lord, but that had only a small chance of even helping now that Voldemort knew of their connected wands.
“What about the ebony? It should be able to handle high-powered spells, correct?”
“Yes, your ebony is highly matched to your magical core, and with its multiple wand cores, it should be much more flexible in what spells you can cast and at what power.”
“Do the cores have any meaning? It’s just I’ve been researching Animagi, and I was wondering if a person’s wand cores factored in at all.”
“Some researchers have matched wand core components to the animals that a person transforms into, but it is very rare. Most of the time, an animagus transformation is tempered by their personality and the individual’s experiences.”
“I see, thank you for explaining, at least.” Harry said with a laugh, “Things never seem to be simple in my life, and the rare things tend to come back to bite me.”
“It never hurts to ask questions, son. Come, let me map out a few examples of how the runes on your Holly wand could be laid," he said, moving to a chair and taking out several rolls of parchment.
An hour later, Harry left and headed into the Alley, leaving his Holly wand to be altered. He stopped at several of the smaller bookstores in the alley, leaving small lists of each of the books he needed to order. He didn’t want anyone to shop, having a massive shipment or order being sent out and causing gossip.
With that final chore completed, he activated the portkey that would bring him to Thorburn Castle. The swirl of light seemed to last longer than normal before dumping him in a dizzy heap at a massive stone, wood, and wrought iron gate. Slowly climbing to his feet, he surveyed the massive stone griffons and dragons that were watching him with glittering eyes from the top of the wall.
Massive trees surrounded the wall, preventing him from seeing much of the gate. The stone walkway was thick with fallen leaves and debris, but the gate itself gleamed with polished wood and metal. He stood before the gate, but this time, there was no crest or emblem for him to press against.
“Here goes nothing,” he muttered, placing his right hand against the wood. “My name is Harry James Potter, and I request entrance into Thorburn Castle.”
For a long moment, nothing happened, and then the stone guardians above shifted with a deep grating of stone on stone. Harry was about to step back when, with a quiet click, the door slid open a crack. He eyed it for another long moment before he slowly pushed against the door, easing his way inside to the dim hall beyond.
The long hallway was dimly lit with scattered torches that burst into light as he approached and died just as quickly as he passed. Harry walked for several minutes before he came to another door, this one guarded by another stone guardian, an armored knight.
“Excuse me,” Harry said as the knight tilted its polearm to block the door. “I’m Harry Potter, and I was sent here by Charlus Potter, my grandfather, to search the vaults.”
“What do you seek?” the guardian asked, voice low and rumbling as the stones he was made from.
“I’m looking for a way to disguise myself from my enemies,” Harry said slowly, feeling like he was failing whatever test he was being presented.
“That is not all you seek.” The knight replied, holding firm where it was blocking the door.
“No, I only need a way to disguise myself so I can conduct House business without revealing myself to my enemies,” Harry repeated.
“What else do you seek?” The knight asked, helmet tilting slightly.
“Nothing.” Harry snapped, his temper rising.
“What else do you seek?” The knight pressed.
“I wouldn’t say no to a way to kill Voldemort or at least get him to stop trying to kill me every year or a way to get Dumbledore off of my back, but I have too many enemies and too many prophecies and legends saying I have to do things to ask for more. I want to live my life without waiting for the next attack! I want to learn and work and do good things in the world without having to fight against the very government that is supposed to protect us! I want a chance to be normal, but I’m never going to get that, so I have to be happy with whatever I can get, and if I manage to live long enough, I hope to maybe be able to live a day without having to hide!”
Harry gasped for breath, shocked that he had just ranted his every hope and prayer to an animated hunk of stone. He staggered away from the knight, falling to sit on the stone floor while he waited for its response. With a clang, the knight retracted its polearm and stepped to one side of the door.
“You may enter, young Potter. May you find what you seek.” The knight said with a bow, the door opening into the darkness with a groan of old hinges.
“Great,” Harry said, shakily climbing to his feet, “Any warnings or advice on how I need to search the vaults?”
“Be wary; the vaults test those who enter. Be confident in your purpose, and do not waver. Honor your House and its values.” The knight said, going back to a guard position next to the door and going still.
“Right," he said, swallowing and pulling out his wand, “Why is everything always a test? Just once, I’d like to go somewhere and be told it doesn’t matter what I do, what color I pick, or what phrase I say, I still get the stupid bauble at the end of the maze without any Dark Lord Wannabe’s jumping out to try and kill me.”
He pulled out his ebony wand with one hand and straightened his bag with the other before slowly approaching the door. Casting a quick lumos, he stepped through the door and started down the steep stairs beyond. The door slammed closed behind with an echoing boom.
“Right, not allowed to turn around,” Harry muttered to himself as he steadily climbed deeper into the vaults, “Yep, this is way too much like the stupid goblet.”
Harry lost track of time as he descended the endless staircase. Occasionally, he stopped to catch his breath, but the path seemed never-ending. He was starting to consider just stopping and eating lunch on the stairs when he spotted a landing jutting out a few turns below him.
The landing consisted of a small space with two doors on either side of the statue of a blindfolded woman. The stairs continued, but Harry approached the doors, hoping for a clue as to what the vault was testing him on. Even if he didn’t pass, he could still head back down the stairs to the next landing, probably.
“What do you seek, son of the House of Potter, Honor or Glory?” she asked, voice firm and demanding in the small space.
“I wish to honor my House, ma’am, but I don’t want either honor or glory for myself,” Harry said slowly, not sure how his answer would be taken.
“If you do not wish either, you must continue to descend, these doors are barred to you," she said, turning back to her place in the center with her sword held before her.
“Alright, thank you, ma’am,” Harry said with a sigh.
He dug out an apple to eat as he walked before continuing down the stairs. Would all the landings be like this? Would he be forced to choose between two opposing strengths until he found one he could agree with? Sometime later, he hit the next landing; this time, two doors guarded by a stone dragon that wrapped the landing in his stone coils.
“What do you seek, Knowledge or Power?” the dragon hissed at him, shifting its length with a steady grinding of stone on stone.
“I don’t seek just knowledge, but between knowledge or power, knowledge would help me the most,” Harry answered with a frown.
“If you wish to search for knowledge, open the left-most door.” the dragon said, its coils grating against each other.
“What is behind the door?”
“Knowledge and all its burdens and triumphs.” was the hissed reply, making Harry want to roll his eyes.
“And if I don’t want to choose either door?”
“You must continue to the next platform.”
“And if I don’t choose any door?” Harry asked in exasperation; he just wanted to pick up a necklace. Why was everything a test?
“A door must be chosen.” the dragon snarled.
“Once I leave a platform, can I come back to it? Can I turn around if I don’t like what the other doors offer?”
“Once rejected, a door will not be offered again.”
“Okay.” Harry paced for a moment, thinking, “Do I have to choose immediately? Can I think about it for a minute?”
“A choice must be made before you leave the platform.” the dragon ground out grudgingly.
“Okay.”
The stone dragon rumbled at him when Harry plopped to a tailor’s seat in the middle of the platform and started to eat lunch. Once he’d finished a sandwich and a bottle of lemonade, he pulled out a sheet of paper and started making a mental pros and cons list of the doors he had seen so far.
Honor? Not something he had ever really considered. He did want to honor his parents and House, but beyond that, he had never considered himself honorable. That was for the long departed.
Glory? That was for the crazy. Harry was already considered to have his glory from an accident that happened when he was too young to remember it. So far, it had only made his life more complicated and hurt him at every turn. He could do without glory.
Power? Power was all and good, but it depended on the person wielding it. Just look at Voldemort and Dumbledore; they both had power over the wizarding population, and neither had bothered to do much good for the people in the years they had held sway. Power without knowledge and a moral compass was worthless.
Knowledge could be useful, at least more than the other options so far. Knowledge itself was useless until it was applied to a situation (just look at all the times Hermione knew the answer to something but couldn’t make herself act.), but having it meant that you were more prepared to act when the situation did arise. Harry knew he was too bent toward throwing himself into a situation without a hint of preparation if it meant he could save someone else from pain. Having some information ahead of time could only be a good thing.
The only problem left was if he was missing out on something better by choosing knowledge. There was no real way to know. There might be a door called “Ultimate Weapon” somewhere below, but he doubted it. He quickly gathered up his things and stood.
“I’m ready to choose, dragon,” Harry said, his voice calm and steady, wand in hand and at the ready.
“What is your choice, young Potter?” the dragon asked, its head turning to face him, small wisps of smoke rising from its nostrils.
“I choose knowledge.”
“Then enter and walk the path you have chosen.” The dragon rumbled, shifting his coils above the left door.
“Thank you, dragon,” Harry murmured, slowly approaching the door and reaching out to turn the knob.
He was prepared for the knob to shock or test his blood like the gates at Potter Manor, but instead, it simply turned smoothly in his hand. The door pushed open to reveal another stone corridor with a high arched ceiling that extended out into the darkness. Harry moved forward with a small sigh, forcing his wand up and to the ready as he moved forward as confidently as he could. He had chosen his path this time, after all, and it wasn’t one forced on him by any prophecy or old demented wizard.
The corridor sloped down, descending gradually with small glowing orbs lighting the way every few feet. Eventually, the corridor ended at an open door, letting him out into a large circular chamber empty except for a single large book on a pedestal. The door slowly slipped shut behind him, barring the way back, and the stone walls mocked his paranoid glances around, there was no other exit.
“I really hope this isn’t like the diary. I’ve had enough crazy people in my head for a lifetime.” Harry muttered, slowly approaching the pedestal where the book sat, glowing softly in the dim light.
“What do you seek?” the book said in a voice full of the rustle of pages and creaking of covers.
“Honestly, I want a normal life,” Harry said with a bitter laugh, “but that seems to be an impossible dream. I want to honor my House and repair the damage that has been done to it since my parent’s death. I want to have peace and time to learn and experiment, but that cannot happen while my enemies are alive. Voldemort and Dumbledore want me to fulfill their prophecy and have done everything they can to make sure I’m the sacrificial lamb being led to the slaughter. I want to prove them wrong and start changing the wizarding world for the better." he scrubbed a hand through his hair, trying to get the words exactly right, “I want the wizarding population to get their heads out of their collective asses and start standing up for themselves. I want to learn about the Grey Lord and Change Bringer that the Goblins say I am. I want to see just how much change I can bring, unbinding those that were bound by force. I want to help. Can you help me do all that?”
“You seek the knowledge to cause change?”
“Yes, I want to learn about my abilities and do everything I can to change the world for the better.”
“Then step forward, young Potter, and prove that you are worthy of our gifts.”
“Another test.” Harry huffed, putting up his wand. “Do the tests ever end?”
“Life is but a test, young Potter, and it is up to the liver to decide if he has passed from moment to moment.”
“And to walk the path he chose.” Harry agreed with a nod, settling himself.
Harry took the final few steps to the pedestal and placed his hands on either side of the book. The glow expanded, swallowing him in its light. He gasped softly as the light took him over, roaring through his mind and searching his memories and plans.
He opened his eyes to find himself in a dark forest. His bag was gone, but his wand was still in its holster. Three paths lead away from his position, trailing off deeper into the woods. He eyed each one with a reserved sigh, not seeing immediately any difference between them. Harry waited a short while to see if his night vision would get any better, but a scream in the dark chose his path for him, pushing him into a stumbling jog toward the sound along the right-hand path.
The path ended in a clearing with a bombed-out-looking house that had more broken walls than an actual structure. He approached the broken structure slowly as soft crying became audible from the collapsed space under a set of stairs. He moved slowly through the rubble, approaching the noise with his wand at the ready.
The broken whimpering continued as he picked his way into the broken ruin. A small hole under a set of partially collapsed stairs echoed with the faint cries. Harry ducked into the tiny space, brushing away several spider webs to reveal a small infant left in a pile of rags.
“A baby in the cupboard under the stairs,” Harry muttered to himself as he gathered up the fussing child, “that’s not familiar at all.”
The giant that came stomping into the clearing was almost a relief as Harry pushed back unwanted memories and forced his wand up to defend himself. He darted out of the way as it took out one wall in a spray of masonry and debris. He cast spell after spell, but most bounced off the thick skin of the giant and only urged it on to more destruction.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
The building was quickly demolished as Harry darted amongst the rubble. He banished a boulder into the beast’s face, but it only stunned the creature for a moment. He needed a way to escape, but he didn’t know how to apparate yet, leaving him running with the now silent child, praying he was fast enough.
The giant crashed its way after them, starting to gain ground now that Harry was forced to dodge around trees and crash through bushes in his haste. They had to go faster! Suddenly, the world twisted around him, and he was running on all fours, the ground blurring under him as he sped through the forest.
He leaped to clear a downed tree and crashed down in a tumble of limbs as himself back to where he had started at the crossroads. The baby and giant were nowhere to be seen. He checked his dirty and scratch-covered arms, but there was no sign that moments before, he’d been fur-covered, running on large paws. The heavy weight of wings had pulled at his back, but he hadn’t tried to fly in the tight press of trees.
A winged wolf? He’d never heard of such a creature, but that didn’t mean it didn’t exist somewhere. He glanced around at the crossroads, but the area seemed changed, removing any previous landmarks. Taking in the new paths, Harry heaved himself up, an animagus form might give him a way to escape, but it wouldn’t let him survive an attack or conduct business for the House.
He picked a path at random and started walking. He might as well get this test over with. The trees stayed thick, blocking everything from sight until he stumbled as the path went from dirt to cobblestone, and he was suddenly standing in Diagon Alley with crowds streaming around him. He brushed at his clothes self-consciously and started walking, trying to blend in.
A murmur started somewhere behind him, shocked gasps and tittering giggles echoing as more and more eyes swung his way. He picked up his pace, gripping his wand as he pushed through the suddenly slowing masses. An opening appeared, and he darted for it without thought.
“Look, it’s Harry Potter!” A woman screamed somewhere behind him, making him spin, trying to find who had outed him.
The crowds suddenly turned, hands grasping and spells splashing against the bricks around him as he ran. The crowd roared, throwing spells and rocks as they fought to stop their supposed savior. Harry yelled as he was snatched to a stop by a grip on his coat, he dropped out of it with a twist and charged on, panting as his shirt was torn by even more attackers.
Harry darted into a thin alley, pounding his way out the other side and fetching up against a brick wall on the other side with a groan, magic burning in his chest as his mind scrambled for a way to escape. He clutched the brick, fighting for air as he waited for the crowds to arrive. Instead, he was spun around and shaken by the first attacker.
“Where did he go?” The man demanded before turning to another bystander.
“Alright there, son?” another man asked as he helped Harry up.
“I’m alright, thanks,” Harry murmured, freezing when a strange face caught his eye in a nearby window.
“What in the world were they looking for, then?”
“Someone said they saw Harry Potter.” Another man spat, “The traitor.”
Harry nodded dumbly as he started moving away from the searching crowds. He stopped in a shop front to fix his shirt with a few spells and took in his new face out of the corner of his eye. He looked like someone in his late twenties with wide brown eyes and dark black hair that hung in a smooth curtain past his shoulders. No one would look at this man and think Harry Potter, only a thin line marked where his scar should be, barely visible unless you knew to look for it.
He grinned to himself and made his way along the alley at a stroll. A few turns later, he was back on the dirt path and making his way back to the crossroads. If he could learn to control it, he’d be able to hide in plain sight as a metamorphmagus, a tingling burn swept over him, and Harry knew he was back to his normal looks.
Picking his next path, he dug out his wand, not liking the way the path was getting darker, with the trees turning twisted and haunted-looking. He kept slowly along, not trusting his footing as tree roots and bushes started pushing their way in. A light ahead slowed his pace even further as voices started to drift his way, men arguing.
Harry stepped out into a clearing to find himself in the middle of a death eater meeting. The masked men spun to face him as he tried to step back, only to find the path now blocked by a fallen tree. Wands were quickly drawn and pointed his way as Harry tried to think of a spell.
He dodged as the first volley of spells bit chunks out of the trees where he’d just been. He threw out the first spell that came to mind, an arc of fire lashing out to slam into hastily cast shields hard enough to toss a few of the men off their feet. The rest of the fight passed in a blur of movement and spells. Harry cast and cast, his new wand launching each spell with precision as he cast spells he’d only memorized days before.
After what seemed like hours, Harry stood panting in the clearing as the last death eater fell. He didn’t pause to gloat, turning to dash down the path that opened to one side. He sighed softly as the injuries he’d received in the fight melted away, leaving him exhausted but whole. He plodded down the path until it ended in another clearing, this time with a round pedestal holding a glowing book.
“Are the tests over?” Harry asked, wearily climbing to stand before the magical volume.
“Do you wish them to be?” the book asked, pulsing softly with an inner light.
“If I’m right, then I was an animagus and metamorphmagus at one point, but I saved myself from the death eaters.”
“You saved yourself each time; your bloodline carried the traits of each ability, and the tests simply showed what you were capable of.”
“So I didn’t need to be tested?”
“The paths of your magic have been opened, allowing a natural use of these talents. Do you still wish to be a force for change and allow yourself to live within the chaos you create?”
“Yes, I need to be able to defeat those who seek to control me, and there’s no way I can see to do that by playing by the rules.”
“Then take these three gifts and rise to meet your future. Stand and prove you’re House proud.”
“But there weren’t three gifts, what was the third!?” Harry shouted even as the light blinded him as a whirlwind of magic burned through him, lifting him off his feet and dumping him to the floor yet again.
Harry raised his head, blurrily looking through his glasses with a groan. He was back outside the gate to the vaults. He took in the stone gargoyles with a sigh before climbing to his feet. Turning his house ring, he portkeyed back to the manor and stumbled to his room.
“Grandfather?" he asked, glancing at the portraits in the room and watching his grandparents step into view.
“Yes, Harry?” Charlus asked, watching Harry set his things on the bedside table.
“If you ever send me into a dangerous situation without warning again, I will bind your portraits and have them moved to the family vaults.”
“Were you given what you needed?” Charlus asked, leaning into Dorea when she pressed against his shoulder hesitantly.
“I believe so. However, I’ve been thrown to the wolves in test after test my entire life.” Harry said, setting his wand on the dresser before turning back to the portrait, “I won’t tolerate it anymore. If you withhold any information from me deliberately or send me into a situation meant to test me again, I won’t hesitate to destroy every portrait that holds your image. Am I understood?”
“We understand, Lord Potter, and will follow your orders,” Dorea said, curtseying as Charlus bowed at her side.
“Is there anything else, Lord Potter?” Charlus asked, watching as the young man rubbed tiredly at his eyes.
“You are the only family I have left, and you sent me to a test that could have killed me. You are going to have to earn back my trust, and I don’t return it easily once it’s been lost, Grandfather. Return to your main portrait until you are called, you are banned from traveling to any portrait outside Potter Manor until I revoke the order.”
“Yes, Lord Potter,” Charlus said hesitantly, gesturing for Dorea to proceed him out of the frame, “If I may, your father went through the vaults as well. He wrote of the experience in his journals if you wish to read of it.”
“Thank you, Charlus.” Harry said with a sigh, “You knew I wouldn’t react well to this, why did you send me there?”
“I believed you were powerful enough to survive the testing and that you needed the gifts that might be woken in your blood.”
“Did you use the vaults?”
“No, there was no need when I was a young man.”
“I see.” Harry said with a sigh, “Go rest, Charlus, I’m tired and would like to sleep.”
“Sleep well, son,” Charlus said with a last look of regret as he left the frame.
*****
“Now, are you ready for the inheritance test? We should check now before there isn’t time to review any included vaults or properties waiting.” Gold Kris asked, pulling out a ritual blade and a dark blue quill sitting in an empty crystal inkwell.
“What exactly will this test show?”
“It will show your full inheritance from all possible Houses, any behests, and magical abilities you may have access to. We will also start a heritage document for your files, showing all your living relatives, most prominent blood ancestors, and any blood connections you will have to other Houses or pending contracts.”
“If you wish, a House tapestry can be created from the Heritage document once it is complete.”
“I will decide that at a later date. For now, I want to know what gifts are available to my Houses.”
Hadrian Charles Evans-Potter-Black
- Use Name: Harry James Potter
Titles:
The Boy Who Lived
Blessed of Hermes, messenger of the Gods and Hades
Blessed of Hades
Lord of the Grey, Change Bringer
Head of House Potter
Head of House Peverell
Head of House Black
Head of House Thorburn
Gifts and abilities:
Parseltongue, gift of House Peverell
Bond Manipulation
Mage Sense
Animagus, gift of House Potter
Battle Sense, gift of House Potter
Metamorphmagus, gift of House Black
Death touched, gift of House Peverell
Potential abilities yet activated:
Rune sight
Language of the Dead
Calling the Dead
Rituals of the Soul
Rites of Justice, Honor, Life
“Those are several gifts that many of the light would kill to have suppressed. I would advise caution in allowing others to know of your skills.”
“I have no intention of letting anyone know of my abilities however, I refuse to let them rot and lose them to the bloodline. Has the inventory of my vaults been completed?”
“We have a preliminary report, as well as several items that need your review.” Gold Kris said, laying out several folders, “These are your account books for your vaults. They hold the documentation for each vault and will be corrected and updated as the bank receives information automatically.”
“Thank you. I’ll work on reviewing these and send you any changes required.” Harry murmured, storing the thick books in his bag, “Would I be able to look through the Peverell vaults?”
“Yes, however, the smaller vault requires proof of ownership of certain items before it will open. The larger vault is mainly books and small artifacts from the family history. You may remove what you wish.”
“Good, what else can we accomplish before I head to the vaults?”
Two hours of paperwork later, Harry exited the mine cart into the small entryway for the Peverell vaults. A row of doors sat waiting for his attention; the most daunting held a pedestal waiting for the three objects required to open the door. Turning to a smaller vault to one side, Harry pressed his hand with the Perevell ring against the crest, wincing at the icy stab of magic that confirmed his status before the doors started to open with a piercing grind of metal on stone.
Inside, magical lights sparked to life, illuminating dark, locked chests and rows of shelves filling the stone room. Harry pulled out the library chest he’d started carrying for sudden book needs and called for Tea. This would take some time, and he might as well have snacks while he wandered.
“How can Tea assist Master Harry?” Tea asked, looking around the crowded vault.
“I need you to bring tea and snacks I can eat while searching the vault. Would any of the elves be able to detect cursed items?”
“You would be needing Mathis; Tea will bring him.” The elf said, disappearing with a near-silent pop as Harry pulled out a notebook and fountain pen.
“How can Mathis assist the young master?” Mathis asked when he popped back with Tea, who held a tray heavy with tea and sandwiches.
“I wish to bring several portraits of the Perevell ancestors back to the manor. Can you help me search the trunks? I want to avoid any that are cursed or any items that could harm me or you.”
“Are you searching for a specific ancestor?”
“I need someone to explain several House gifts, and while I plan to take most of the books with me, I need someone to explain things that aren’t written down about House Perevell. Are you aware of anyone that would have married into House Potter from House Perevell?”
“House Perevell did not marry into House Potter; House Perevell married into House Potter and abandoned their name after other Houses began hunting those of their House.” a low voice said, drawing Harry to the back wall where a stack of covered portraits sat watching him with varying expressions of distrust.
“Good evening, I am Hadrian Potter, the new Lord Perevell once I come of age,” Harry said softly as the house elves sorted out the paintings, laying them out along the back wall and cleaning them with a snap of long fingers.
“And what age are you, child?” one older gentleman asked, rubbing at a thick pair of glasses with a silk cloth.
“My age is irrelevant, I require someone to assist in teaching me how to control the House gifts. I have been blessed with several from House Perevell and I refuse to ignore a gift from magic that might be of use simply because others may see it as a dark or dangerous ability.”
“You have strong opinions for a child.”
“A child born a parseltongue has no choice but to form strong opinions when it comes to their gifts and abilities.” Harry snapped, watching as several of them flinched at his revelation, a gesture to Mathis had those portraits removed and silenced to one side. “Does anyone else have an issue with their heir having a dark ability?”
“You are a bold child.” A dark-haired woman said, giving him a tight smile as she watched the others fussing silently as they were removed.
“I have too many enemies to be silent and meek, Madame.” Harry huffed, fighting off the urge to roll his eyes, “I need to know how to use every advantage I have available. If you are unable to assist me, you are welcome to continue to sleep in solitude within this vault.”
“You must be exaggerating,” One man scoffed, “No child would have enemies worth learning necromancy.”
Harry indicated that he be removed as well before pulling out a chair and taking a seat before the three remaining portraits. Accepting a cup of tea, he waited a few moments for the startled occupants to settle down before sipping at his tea and noting those who watched him in turn.
“What do you wish to learn?” the first woman asked, “There is little to teach if you wish to raise the dead to harm those who hunt you.”
“And if I wish merely to survive? To stay alive and outlive my enemies?”
“Then you might be taught, however, it is a path few are able to walk. To embrace death is to embrace your demise and at the same time rail against it with all your might. You must reject the temptation to pass on to your final rest with every breath and every heartbeat while still holding the dead at your side by willpower alone.”
“What are your gifts, child of House Potter?”
“May I ask your names before we continue?” Harry asked, looking over the three portraits; all were done in an old style, the dress and furniture at least several hundred years old, if not more.
“I am Ioathe Perevell ne Potter. I married into the Potter line when the Perevell line was in decline. It wasn’t two generations before we disappeared completely to those who lost track of our bloodlines.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Madame. And you, Sirs?” Harry asked, turning to the other portraits watching in silence.
“Henrick Potter, a distant relative. I was not gifted with the skills for necromancy. However, I was the last holder of the Gryffindor seat in the Ministry before it was declared an extinct line. I am willing to speak with you about how our line connects back to Gryffindor, what we own, and what alliances we may call on should the need arise.”
“I hope to take my seats in the Wizengamot once I come of age. It would be beneficial to discuss such matters with one who has held the seats previously.” Harry said with a polite nod turning to face the final portrait.
“I would know your skills before I reveal my name, Boy.” the older gentleman sneered.
“Then you will be kept wanting. I don’t allow anyone to call me Boy, especially not my relatives. You can rot here.” Harry snapped, standing and gathering his bag, “Tea, take the two portraits to my office. Mathis, I want the books here removed, cleaned, and added to the Potter Manor Library in their own section. If there isn’t room, we can convert one of the nearby rooms to house them for now.”
“You impertinent child!”
“The one thing I have never been is a child, sir. I wasn’t given the opportunity thanks to misheard prophecies and the death of my entire family. My ‘guardians’ saw to that. I may be impertinent. However, a child is not something I can claim unless you count the year I can’t remember with parents just out of Hogwarts and too busy fighting a war to see the danger they were in. I don’t have time for polite chatter with two Dark Lords after my blood and a government that slanders me daily in the press. Either help me or stay silent, I won’t waste a moment on you otherwise. I quite frankly don’t have the time or energy to bother.”
Harry ignored the ranting portrait as it was silenced and set to one side with the others he wasn’t interested in. Perusing the shelves, he pulled a few interesting volumes to add to his bag while house elves popped to and fro taking the books in massive piles to Potter Manor.
“Master Harry, I have examined the trunks. I would advise only taking these three to the manor for now. The others either contain advanced tools for necromancy or items too delicate to be moved.” Mathis said watching as the other elves worked steadily at their tasks.
“Thank you, Mathis. Please leave them in the library for now. I will look through them once I’ve spoken with my relatives.”
“Of course, Master Potter,” Mathis murmured however Harry waited and noted the elf didn’t pop away as he normally would.
“Is there something else you require, Mathis?”
“I would give the portrait of Master Roddric another chance. He was a wise master for many years and was the one who started rotational farming and implemented many of the requirements for the heirs that followed his tenure as Lord Potter. He may have advice to dispense you would find valuable.”
“Take him for now but leave him silenced. And make sure all three are locked into their frames. I don’t want them leaving the manor until I’m certain of their loyalties.”
“As you wish, Master Harry.”
******
“Good evening, Grandfather and Grandmother, I hope you are doing well?” Harry asked, settling himself into a chair by the fire in the manor’s study. The new portraits waited to one side, watching him with wary eyes.
“Good evening, Harry. I take it your time at the bank was well spent?” Dorea asked as a house elf popped in with tea, leaving after a quiet thank you from Harry.
“It was educational.” Harry said with a tired grin, “I have several gifts I need to research, and I found the names of the gifts that were activated earlier this summer.”
“And your new collection of portraits is from the Black Vault?”
“The Peverell vault, I have several necromantic gifts and abilities.” Harry said, baring his teeth with a smile, “I received the Blessing of Hermes and Hades. I have the gift Bond Manipulation, Mage Sense, the Animagus and Battle Sense gift from House Potter, the Metamorphmagus gift from House Black, and the gift of Parseltongue and something called Death Touched from House Peverell.”
“Of those gifts I’ve yet to activate, I have Rune sight, Language of the Dead, Calling the Dead, Rituals of the Soul, and Rites of Justice.”
“Those are powerful gifts, none of House Potter have held the gifts of a Necromancer in many centuries.” Charlus said, glancing over the Peverell portraits, “I take it you brought these three to learn about your Peverell abilities?”
“Yes, however, they won’t be allowed out of their frames until they swear to uphold the honor of their House and their new Lord,” Harry said, giving Charlus a dark look, he’d yet to forgive the man for forcing him unprepared through the trials of Castle Thorburn.
“We need to discuss your training plans for the rest of the summer.”
“I’ll be looking for tutors starting tomorrow. I sent the letters off with Gold Kris after our meeting. Instructors in Defense against the Dark Arts and Runes, I don’t think I will have time for additional potions study this summer.” Harry said, gesturing to the portraits and canceling their silencing spell.
“What else are you studying, child of House Perevell?” Ioanthe asked, watching his interaction with the other two portraits. She was a small, petite woman with dark green eyes and silver-streaked black hair. Clad in ivory robes and reclining on a stone chair, she seemed more a past ruler than a mere member of the House.
“Perhaps introduction first,” Charlus inquired, raising an eyebrow as the woman chuckled.
“I am Ioanthe Peverell ne Potter; I married into the Potter line after the hunt started in earnest for my own House. The current Lord ordered all able to leave the continent or marry into other Houses to do so. I approved of the ideals of House Potter, and my husband, Jude, was with me for many years until the first outbreak of Dragon Pox.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Ioanthe. If I may call you that.” Harry said, giving her a small seated bow, “I hope we both have much to learn from each other.”
“I do not doubt that there has not been a true necromancer in the Peverell line in centuries. The last allowed the views of the time to twist his use of the arts to something perverse and cruel. I will not allow our art to be polluted again. If you wish for me to swear an oath to House Potter and Peverell, I have no issues with doing so. I swore oaths on my wedding and would repeat them with a clear conscience. However, I reserve the right to refuse to teach you certain aspects should you prove unworthy or unable to handle the depths of the art.”
Harry gave her a small smile before turning to Henrick Potter, “What of you, Henrick Potter? Will you swear to uphold your House and Lord?”
Henrick was a broad-shouldered man with reddish brown hair worn long in waves past his shoulders. Dark eyes watched Harry with a sadness that never seemed to waver. Armed with a sword and cane, he wore finely cut dueling robes done in silk with little embellishment.
“I have no issue swearing to add House Potter and their current Lord however, I have no other portraits to travel to, and I ask that you allow me access to the manor portraits once the vows are complete. It has been centuries since I walked unfamiliar halls, and I long for it.” Henrick said with a heavy accent, looking tired and sad. “ I am more than willing to teach you what I can of House Peverell, House Potter, and the seats you will one day hold.”
“I take it you were a holder of the Gryffindor seat?” Charlus asked, accepting a cup of tea as Dorea poured them each a cup and doctored it to their preferences.
“Aye, the lad will need more knowledge and strength if he wishes to reclaim his seats and his ownership of the castle and Gryffindor lands.”
“We don’t currently hold them?” Harry asked, setting his cup to the side and pulling out a notebook to add to his list of things to research. “I know I was meant to be raised in Godric’s Hollow, and we own the now ruined cottage there.”
“You own the entire village and the Gryffindor lands. Your Potter House vault will have more information if it is not here in your library.”
“I was not aware of the Potters owning any founder’s land or seats. The Gryffindor seat in the Wizengamot is dormant as none can produce the ducal seal needed to retake them.” Charlus said slowly, “I can’t recall anyone in the family ever hinting that we might own the seat or the castle. It is common knowledge of the older generation that the Potters are from the Gryffindor line. However, there is nothing beyond an acknowledgment of the bloodline. We hold no titles or properties from that line. I always assumed the Potters married into a distaff branch of the family at some point.”
“Nay, the Potters, and the Peverells are direct descendants from the two children Godric fathered. As such, both lines can claim his lands and any vaults left in his House’s name. You are also the only descendant that could claim his rooms and artifacts from Hogwarts.”
“I don’t have the title of Gryffindor on my inheritance tests. I wasn’t aware it was part of our bloodline.”
“Unlike many current bloodlines, the Peverell and Gryffindor Houses follow an older tradition of granting someone among the more distant lines the title if certain conditions are met. Are you a student of Hogwarts?”
“Yes, I’m returning to school for my fifth year in a few weeks.” Harry murmured, sitting up a bit straighter, “I’m not certain now is the right time to claim any founders’ Houses. Wouldn’t the entire school be notified?”
“The formal notification won’t go out until you come of age or claim your Wizengamot seats. You have lands that are being run by other Houses, and they will need to be conferred with before the formal announcement.”
“What would I need to do?”
“You must find a founder’s room and wield one of their artifacts. Gryffindor’s sword would be the most common, and his room is known to be in the same tower as the headmaster’s offices.”
“I’ve already held the sword. It came to my hand in my second year when I was fighting a basilisk. It sits in the headmaster’s office now behind his desk.”
“Then you must simply call on your blood, and the sword will come to your hand. Swear to uphold the House of Gryffindor upon the blade and accept your full title and rank.”
“I think I will wait on that until I have an alibi for the sword disappearing from Dumbledore’s office.” Harry said with a grimace, “What of House Peverell? Are there any issues with me being the Lord of the House?” Harry asked, turning back to Ioanthe.
“No, however, you must formally pledge yourself to Death and your path before starting the walking path of learning for our House. That can wait while you learn more about your duties and learn ritual magic. I can tell that you haven’t delved into the more complex rituals yet.”
“I’ve yet to touch on ritual magic at all beyond book learning.” Harry huffed, “This summer, we will be holding the first Litha celebration in generations on the grounds here. I take it Necromancy is very ritual-based?”
“Yes, and runes are used to stabilize many of the circles. You will need to broaden your studies. I asked my painting to be kept in the Peverell vaults in case another of Death’s Children emerged in our line. Until you reach your majority, you will be allowed to dabble without forcing a vow to Death however, upon your birth night, you must choose if you will walk hand in hand with death or merely along the edges of the path.”
“I already have a heavy schedule this year. I will focus on ritual and runic magic and prepare myself to start learning the Peverell ways next summer. For now, once your vows are done, you may roam among the manor’s portraits as you wish.”
“What of the one who insulted you?” Ioanthe asked, chuckling as she twisted to see the fuming older gentleman waiting on them still silenced.
“Master Roddric, are you willing to speak politely, or will I be ordering you sent back to the vault?” Harry asked, removing the silencing spell with a flick of his hand.
“You are young to have mastered silent and wandless casting with ease,” Roddric grumbled, fussing with his heavily brocaded coat. “I would speak to your elders before I agree to any vow. I wish to know the state of House Potter and its standing in the world.”
“How did you come to be locked in a Peverell Vault if you are of House Potter?” Harry asked, ignoring the man’s request.
“It was requested in my will. I wished to be available to the Peverell heir when they finally appeared. My daughter was a seer and foresaw many frightening things coming to the House’s future. She wed into the Potter line and brought my House with her when she moved to Britain. Due to her visions, we altered many of the bylaws of the House and added failsafes so no future lord of House Potter could drain the coffers or sell the land off wholesale.”
“She foresaw the possible destruction of House Potter.”
“Yes, she saw a never-ending war that drained the House accounts until there was nothing left. Homes and land were raised, and businesses were destroyed. We worked to move investments overseas or into muggle hands to keep our funds in the black no matter the future strife. Has what we foresaw come to pass?”
“If she saw the rise of the Dark Lord Voldemort and his reign of terror in Great Britain, then yes. However, House Potter was not bankrupt in the war, only stripped of members. My grandparents can speak on it further. However, there were many Houses and Clans utterly wiped out in the man’s attempt to purify the magical race and remove any obstacles to his path of complete control.”
“Who is left?”
“Of the Potter line, I am the only remaining member. We do have relatives left in other Houses, but they are distant and no longer of House Potter.”
“Lady, preserve us.” Roddric gasped, sagging into his chair, “I will swear your vow, Lord Potter. We can speak further once your relatives have updated us on the current times.”
“Then I would have your vow to House Potter now.”
Each portrait glowed with magic as the House magics enforced the magics in their portraits with the vow and its restrictions. They would not be able to speak to others outside of the family or the manor portraits of House Potter matters.
“I will leave you to catch up and speak on House matters. We have the rest of the summer and the holidays I’m able to return to deal with more important matters and my continuing education. It was a pleasure to meet you all, I hope you enjoy your stay in Potter Manor.”