Grimmauld Place, 4th June 1998
Harry let out a soft groan as he stood, his body stretching in a way that made his back pop and crack in relief after sitting for so long in the same position. The book he had been reading, Soul Magics and Bonds: The Lost Rituals, hadn't had the answers he was looking for and he was almost at the point of losing hope that he would find any answers.
He was currently residing in the newly restored Grimmauld Place, more specifically the famous, or rather infamous, Black family library. When he had returned to the house for the first time days after the battle, Harry was surprised to see that the damage done by the war wasn't as excessive as he had imagined. Sure, it had been ransacked but most of the furniture was redeemable with a few scouring and repairing charms - and, with the help of Kreacher, the house was soon habitable. Luckily the library and a few other rooms had been spared completely thanks to the Black family’s previous paranoia: certain rooms required Black blood to open and allow people in.
Resigned that he wouldn't find what he was looking for tonight, Harry made his way to the kitchen. Kreacher popped into existence as soon as he reached his target.
"What can Kreacher do for great Master Harry?" The elf asked.
Exhausted, Harry sat down. "Can you heat me up whatever is left over? Oh, and a cup of tea, please."
Harry soon found himself smiling softly as Kreacher mumbled to himself about great masters and mighty wizards who were too stubborn. Chuckling under his breath, Harry waited for his food; he knew Kreacher would have prepared a meal for him earlier as the elf had come to recognize Harry's habit of forgetting to look after himself and had taken it upon himself to ensure his “Great Master” was properly cared for. Tucking in when the food appeared moments later, Harry thought back to what had led him here.
Ever since the final battle, when he had finally fulfilled his destiny and that damned prophecy, Harry had been feeling empty and devoid, like his life had lost its meaning. At first he put it down to survivor’s guilt, even if he did technically die. Yet, the feeling still remained, always there, subtly growing like a cancer in his mind.
In the days that followed the battle, Harry had found it hard to connect to the people around him. The few remaining Order members were all there, asking him question after question - watching him, wanting to know how he did it, and the public was the same. They all were wanting interviews with the newly dubbed saviour, the Light’s hero. Even Ron and Hermione had questioned him with something like suspicion after the battle.
Hogwarts, 2nd May 1998
“Are you sure you're alright, mate?" Ron asked, staring at Harry intently.
"I'm fine, Ron," Harry assured firmly, tired of the questions and just wanting to go to sleep, as he looked around the destruction and carnage with sad eyes. “Maybe you should go be with your family,” he suggested gently, seeing the remaining Weasleys huddled together in their grief in a far corner.
During this Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance that went unseen by Harry. “You know you're considered family right?” Ron asked. “Especially now.”
Harry nodded absently. “Yeah, I know,” he agreed, thinking about all the family had done for him. They had taken him in, fed him, and housed him in the summer; they had loved him like their own.
“And don’t forget about you and Ginny,” Hermione added, staring intently at the boy saviour.
Harry frowned at this slightly, thinking of his ex-girlfriend. He just didn’t feel the connection anymore, the excited nervousness in his stomach when he thought about the fiery redhead. “Me and Ginny? You know we broke up,” he said.
Ron frowned slightly before smiling. “Well yeah, but you did that for her protection! It’s obvious you love her, mate,” he said with conviction.
Hermione quickly jumped in before Harry could think. “Of course Harry, you're perfect for each other!”
Harry shook his head slowly but didn’t say anything, and his silence was taken as agreement by them both. His two friends smiled and started to make their way towards the grieving remains of the Weasley family.
As the trio approached the crowds parted easily, people thanking Harry even in their grief.
“Oh, Harry dear!” Cried Mrs. Weasley as she pulled Harry into a tight hug.
Harry, still dazed by the recent events, felt himself stiffen at the contact. Feeling this, Mrs. Weasley let him go and looked him up and down.
“Oh look at you, are you hurt dear?” She asked, receiving a slow shake of his head from Harry.
Releasing him with a sigh Molly stepped back in time to avoid Ginny, who had launched herself at Harry and clinged to him as she sobbed.
“Oh Harry, it’s so awful,” she wailed, grabbing him tightly and making Harry wince as he realised that, although he wasn’t seriously hurt, he was bruised and sore.
That's when Harry realised who was missing. George was standing alone, well not standing, being held up by Bill and Arthur. The look on his face was void of life. Looking around with panic, Harry felt his throat tighten.
“Fred?” He asked, his voice coming out unrecognisable but still carried to those around him.
The only reply he got was a tightened grip and a fresh bout of crying. His eyes however were still locked on George, who looked as lost as he felt, like he had just lost half of his soul.
“I'm just so happy you’re alive,” Ginny said, drawing attention back to herself. “How did you survive, Harry? You were dead!” She asked, almost hysterically.
“I don’t know,” Harry said as he realised everybody had gone silent when she had spoken.
“It’s a miracle,” Ron said after the silence had grown awkward enough for even him to recognise.
“Yeah,” Harry agreed half heartedly, pulling away from Ginny to rub at his neck in a nervous gesture. Looking around once again at the carnage, Harry closed his eyes, exhaustion making him sway slightly on his feat.
“Oh. look at you,” Molly spoke, once again pulling Harry into a hug, “you're exhausted; we’re all exhausted. We should get out of here. There's nothing more to be done.”
Nodding because he really wanted to leave this place, Harry barely noticed the walk to the gates or apparating away with the Weasleys.
In the days that followed after Harry returned to the Burrow with the Weasleys, Harry found it hard to reconnect. Bill and Fleur left the day after the battle, taking with them George who they felt needed time to try and come to terms with his grief. Harry, however, barely noticed their absence as he just wasn’t there and with the amount of potions he was on from Mrs. Weasley to help him heal, he didn’t mind.
“How are you feeling harry?” Ginny asked a few days later, sitting down next to Harry in the living room. He had been alone for most of the day, simply sitting and trying to gather his thoughts.
Shrugging Harry tried to smile at her, determined to not make her grief worse. “I’ll be okay,” he said finally, not wanting to lie.
Ginny bit her lip at that, drawing Harry's attention to her mouth. He had kissed those lips countless times, yet he had no desire to do so again. He thought it strange, as he had had every intention of getting back with her after the war.
Ginny, noticing his stare, smirked internally and slowly leaned forward, pushing her full chest against Harry's firm one and brought her lips to his. The kiss did nothing for Harry who was about to pull away in apology when they got interrupted.
“Well, it’s about time!” Ron shouted as he entered the room.
“Ron!” Ginny squealed, snuggling up against Harry's chest in victory.
Harry, however, was lost in his daze. The kiss had shocked him; making him fully realise his feelings for her - the kiss had felt wrong, like kissing his sister or a friend.
“So you two finally back together, then?” Ron asked, sitting across from them with a massive smile.
“Of course,” Ginny said, not waiting or asking Harry, who was about to explain that they weren’t back together.
“Good, that's good, that's great even,” Ron said.
“What's great?” asked Hermione who entered the room then, smiling as she saw the position Harry and Ginny were in.
“Oh, I see you two are back together now. That's perfect, just in time for school to reopen in September.”
Harry, who had been lost in his thoughts, slowly blinked and was now focusing on the conversation around him. Finally he spoke up.
“School?” He asked. He wasn’t returning to school; sure he regretted missing his last year but he couldn’t sit in a school now, not after all he had been through. He would just take his NEWTs at the ministry when it was time.
Hermione, who was now sitting with Ron, turned to look at him. “What about school, Harry?”
“I'm not going back to school,” Harry told them, surprised they thought he would want to return after everything.
“What?” screeched Ginny and Hermione simultaneously.
“But you must Harry!” Hermione added, trying to sound reasoning but coming across as pompous instead.
“Why?” Harry dully repeated. “After everything I've been through, I just can’t ‘Mione.”
“What about me?!” Demanded Ginny.
“What about you?” Asked Harry incredulously, confused as to what she had to do with anything.
“You’re just going to abandon me again, for an entire year?” She asked, trying to make her voice sound sad.
“What about your NEWTs, Harry? You can’t expect to get a job and provide for Ginny if you don’t have proper qualifications! You can’t expect to get a job just because you defeated Voldemort. I thought you were better than that,” Hermione said, sounding disappointed.
By this point Harry had had enough, pulling away from Ginny and standing. He looked around the room in anger and said, “I’m not going back to school and I don’t expect anything like that Hermione. I thought you knew that, knew me.”
“Oh Harry I'm sorry, it’s just—”
“No!” Harry interrupted angrily, “I will take my NEWTs, but I’ll do it alone, at the ministry.”
Interrupting him again Hermione spoke, “But you can’t expect to do well then either, Harry! I mean I’m not saying you would fail but—”
“Enough!” Harry finally shouted. “It’s my decision, and I've made it. I'm not going back to Hogwarts in September. ”
Ron who had remained silent, finally developed a look of understanding. “You're going to become an auror instead then, right mate?”
Harry just shook his head. “No, Ron. I don’t think I even want to be an auror anymore.” He was tired, and the thought of spending his entire life fighting just didn’t appeal to him.
“But - that's what we’ve always dreamed about,” Ron said, his face becoming red.
“I'm tired Ron, I just want to take some time to myself,” Harry said, finally letting his voice calm and looked around the room, hoping they would understand.
“Oh, Harry,” Hermione said, nodding at Ginny slightly. They had been staring at each other as Ron spoke.
Ginny, who had caught Hermione's look, nodded her head. “We understand,” she said and stood before she made her way to hug Harry.
Stepping back before she could reach him, Harry ran his hand through his hair. This was the most he’d spoken since the battle and he felt exhausted now that his anger had faded.
“I’m going to go speak to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley,” he said. “I think it’s time I left.”
“You should call them mom and dad Harry,” Ginny said, before she fully took in what he had said. “Wait, what do you mean left? You can’t leave! Where would you go? You can’t want to go back to the muggles?”
Sighing again and rubbing his neck, Harry shrugged. “I just want some time alone,” he mumbled. “I think maybe I’ll go to Grimmauld—”
“But that's not safe Harry,” Hermione said, interrupting him as she followed them into the kitchen.
“I’ll be fine,” Harry interrupted. “I’ll set up some wards or something.”
“What’s this about wards, my dear?” Mrs. Weasley asked.
“Tell him, mom!” Ginny practically shouted. “Harry wants to leave!”
Molly frowned at this. “Harry dear, why do you want to leave? Aren’t you happy here? I thought I heard that you and Ginny were back together.”
Sighing, Harry shook himself free of Ginny, who had once again attached herself to him. He said, “It’s not that, Mrs. Weasley—”
“Call me Molly dear, or mum.”
Shaking his head, Harry continued, “It’s not that. It’s just that, I think, I just need some time alone to deal with everything.” Harry shook his head as he struggled to word his need for space.
Frowning, Molly exchanged a glance with Ron and Hermione, who were standing behind Harry. “Well dear, are you sure that's for the best? I mean, you're still taking potions to help you recover,” she reasoned, not wanting Harry to leave.
“I’ll be fine,” Harry insisted, “I don’t need the potions anymore, I feel fine. I just really want some time to sort my head out.”
Molly frowned, “But all alone—”
“I wouldn’t be completely alone,” Harry interrupted as an idea hit him. “I would be with Kreacher.”
Upon saying his name the house elf appeared and jumped at Harry. “Master Harry where have you been?” The elf asked, clearly upset upon seeing Harry.
“Harry, how could you?!” Hermione’s indignant voice rang out, “You should release him at once - and keeping a slave I thought—!”
Kreacher froze at her words and sent Harry a horrified look, before interrupting her rant about SPEW. The house elf wailed, “No master please, Kreacher will be good!”
Harry sent Hermione a cold look that had her freezing. He knelt down to the elf to reassure him, “It’s okay Kreacher, I'm not going to send you away. I was just wondering if you've been back to Grimmauld Place?”
Calming down, the house elf nodded his head, his ears flying around. “Yes master, I returned there after the big fight as I had no orders and master had vanished,” the house elf said, sounding nervous.
“Good,” Harry again reassured the skittish elf, “that's good, Kreacher. How is the house, could I stay there?”
The house elf’s eyes grew wide at that point. “Master wants to return to master’s house?” the elf asked excitedly. Kreacher’s voice lowered and he began to mutter, “Yes, yes master should return at once. Kreacher has been busy, so busy making the house good for master but Kreacher didn’t know if master would return.”
Smiling, Harry stood up and looked around the room. “I'm going to collect my things and I'm going to Grimmauld place,” he said with a finality that had even Molly wary to argue with him.
Grimmauld Place, 4th June 1998
In the days that followed his exit from the Burrow Harry was hounded by Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and even Mrs. Weasley. It got to the point that Harry had blocked the floo connection against them and warded the house to keep them out; he still accepted their owls, but only because he had written and asked them to allow him to have some time alone. Harry had been shocked when Kreacher told him that Harry could edit the house’s wards, he hadn’t even known he owned the house, inheriting it after Sirius’ death.
Standing now that he had finished his meal, Harry thanked Kreacher.
“I think I'm going to go visit the Burrow tomorrow,” Harry told the elf. Their letters had started to get almost demanding as they asked to see him because they were worried. Feeling bad for adding to their stress, Harry thought a visit would help reassure them he was fine.
Kreacher pulled a face at that but didn’t speak. He hated the blood traitor family and their pet mudblood for how they treated his master, but master had asked Kreacher not to speak badly about them or call them names, so he didn’t. But Kreacher knew that they were not worthy of his great master, no matter what his master said.
Just as Harry reached the kitchen door a soft knocking was heard. Turning toward the sound, Harry was surprised to see a large and rather terrifying looking eagle owl perched against the kitchen window.
Flicking his wrist so that his holly wand was in his hand, Harry opened the window with a wave of his wand. The bird swooped elegantly onto the kitchen table, its claws making a quiet click against the aged wood. Seeing as the bird was not moving, Harry approached it with caution. The wards should have blocked out anything with malicious content but Harry had no intention of becoming complacent. Moody would be proud, he thought. After running through his repertoire of detection spells, some of which he had only learnt since getting to Grimmauld, and getting nothing back, Harry carefully took the letter from the bird’s outstretched leg. If possible the owl looked at Harry with exasperation and took flight as soon as it was freed of its burden.
“Guess you’re not waiting for a reply then,” Harry mumbled under his breath before looking at the letter in his hand.
Harry noted the high quality of the envelope and was drawn in by the beautiful and elegant calligraphy on the front. Turning the envelope around, Harry was surprised to see the wax seal of Gringotts Bank. He hadn’t thought he would hear from the goblins any time soon due to the situation with the dragon.
With a resigned sigh Harry found himself breaking the wax seal and pulling out the letter. Like the envelope, the parchment was high quality, and reading it Harry soon found himself intrigued.
Mr. Harrison James Potter-Black
We the goblins at Gringotts Wizarding Bank require your presence due to matters of inheritance and reparations.
You should present yourself at Gringotts Wizarding Bank as soon as you're available to ensure that the situation is resolved in a timely manner.
Gringotts Head Goblin of the London Branch, Ragnok
“Harrison? Potter-Black?” Harry mumbled to himself in confusion before shaking his head. “Kreacher, change of plans, it seems like I'm going to Gringotts tomorrow instead.”
Diagon Alley, 5th June 1998
Making sure his glamour was in place, Harry made his way through the crowd at the Leaky Cauldron. Harry wanted to make sure he didn’t draw any attention to himself, even though he wouldn’t be recognised as Harry Potter. The glamour spell he had found in an old Black family grimoire was one of the best he had heard of, let alone performed. He had lengthened his unruly black hair to his shoulders, making it easier to hide his scar. His emerald green eyes paled to a light grey, his cheekbones and jawline sharpened, and the spell even added a few inches to his 5ft 8 frame making him 6ft. The changes were based on his own family features, making it easy to maintain.
When he arrived at the bank Harry greeted the goblin guards with a respectful nod to each of them, shocking the guards. Most wizards either ignored their presence completely or looked down on them as lesser creatures.
Walking up to the first free desk, Harry lowered the hood of his thick travelling cloak. The goblin serving him looked at Harry intently, as though he could see through the glamour, making Harry wonder about the extent of goblin magic.
“Greetings master goblin,” Harry began, “I recently received a missive from Gringotts Bank pertaining issues about my inheritance and reparations.”
The goblin stared for a moment before standing. He said, “If you would follow me, Harry Potter, Chief Ragnok would like to deal with this issue personally.”
Harry tried not to let his surprise at being recognised show, and followed the goblin as they lead him down intricate corridors further into the bank. He hoped that the goblins would not hold him alone responsible for the damage done by the dragon or for breaking into the bank. He knew they took pride in being impenetrable.
Coming to a stop outside a large door guarded by two goblins Harry let out a breath and steeled himself. The goblin leading him knocked once before turning to face Harry.
“I will be leaving you here, Mr. Potter,” he said before turning to leave.
“Wait,” Harry called out, making the goblin pause. “May I ask, what is your name, master goblin?”
Surprised, he replied, “My name is Bloodfang, Mr. Potter.”
Harry nodded his head in thanks, before speaking again, “Then I thank you Bloodfang, for your help today. May your gold continue to grow.”
The traditional goblin thank you surprised both Bloodfang and the surrounding guards. Harry hadn’t even known that there were traditional greetings and customs for dealing with goblins until recently and hoped that the goblin race wouldn’t hold his childhood ignorance against him.
Smiling toothily, Bloodfang nodded. “Thank you Mr. Potter and may your enemies cower at your name.” With that done Bloodfang disappeared in the direction they had travelled. Before Harry had a chance to say anything to the guards, the doors to the room opened.
“Enter, Mr. Potter,” a voice said.
Nodding to the guards in passing, Harry entered the office. Sitting behind a large desk was a richly dressed goblin who Harry had never before seen.
“Greetings Ragnok, chief of Gringotts,” Harry said as he bowed slightly to the head goblin
Looking over his desk Ragnok was surprised at the image the young wizard presented. He could see through the magical glamour, as all goblins could; it was only blood glamours and polyjuice potions that caused them difficulty. Underneath it he thought the wizard appeared tired and surprisingly small - not necessarily in stature, but in presence. Beckoning him to sit, Ragnok spoke, “Greetings, Mr. Potter.”
Sitting down in the chair, Harry waited for the goblin to speak. “It has recently come to our attention that you have yet to claim your lordship of both the Most Ancient and Noble houses of Potter and Black, alongside this you have not claimed the inheritances set away for you.”
Harry felt his eyes widen. “I'm sorry for my ignorance Chief Ragnok, but I was unaware of any lordships or inheritances,” Harry said. In a corner of his mind, Harry was extremely glad that the meeting didn’t appear to be about the dragon or the break in.
Ragnok stared hard at the young wizard. “You mean to tell me your magical guardian did not tell you of your standing in our society?”
Harry let is confusion show and asked, “Magical guardian? I'm sorry, but I'm not aware of ever having a magical guardian. My parents as well as my godfather are dead.”
“You’re correct, of course, Mr. Potter, however up until your 17th birthday Albus Dumbledore was your magical guardian,” Ragnok said.
“Dumbledore?” Harry questioned.
“Indeed,” Ragnok said, “you say you're unaware of your inheritance and lordships?”
“That’s correct,” Harry said in a daze.
“Right Mr. Potter, if you would just wait here I will be back momentarily,” Ragnok said, before he stood and made his way to the doors. Speaking in rapid gobbledegook, he ordered his guards to go and find a blood inheritance worker. Returning to his desk, he looked at the wizard.
“As you have had no counsel or preparation for your inheritance, I think it is best if you undergo a blood inheritance test, that way you can see proof of your station,” Ragnok said.
Harry nodded, remembering what he had read recently about such tests, but unsure about the particulars. “Forgive me if I’m wrong, but won’t such a test just show who I am?” Harry asked.
“Yes, that is indeed one of the tests qualities, however such a test will also show all inherited lordships or lordships gained through other means, any and all adoptions, magical qualities, abilities and bonds as well as vaults. It can also show any magical blocks, compulsions, and interferences such as potions as well as give the date any such potions or blocks were first administered,” the goblin explained.
“I see,” Harry said. Thinking about the potions Mrs. Weasley had given him for pain weeks ago, he decided that it wouldn’t matter if they showed up as they were generic pain potions, however before he could ask the doors opened and an ancient looking goblin entered holding a piece of golden parchment. The goblin approached Ragnok and bowed low before speaking in rapid gobbledegook. Ragnok and the ancient one spoke quickly to each other before turning to Harry.
“Would you consent to doing such a test Mr. Potter?” The ancient one asked.
“Of course,” Harry agreed.
“All you have to do is allow three drops of your blood to touch the parchment,” Ragnok said, producing an ornate dagger from a draw in his desk and handing it to Harry.
Gripping the daggers gilded handle, Harry steeled himself before placing the tip against his thumb. He watched in fascination as blood welled from the wound. Holding his thumb above the parchment on the desk he quickly moved it after three drops fell.
The ancient goblin chanted then, the air filling with such thick magic it was almost tangible. As quickly as it started it was over and the goblin fell silent.
Looking at the parchment that seemed to glow momentarily, Harry watched as words appeared.
Ragnok was surprised at the ritual, usually such a test would not elicit such a magical reaction; therefore he waited with bated breath as the wizard picked up the parchment. He knew that whatever was on it would be interesting to say the least.
Harry stared at the parchment, shocked and enraged beyond reason as he read the surprisingly long list.
Harrison James Potter-Black
July 31st 1980, Godric’s Hollow England
James Fleamont Potter (Birth father)
Lily Juliana Potter nee Evans (Birth mother)
Sirius Orion Black (Blood adopted Father, August 1st 1980)
Lord of the Ancient and Noble Family Potter (birth)
Lord of the Ancient and Noble Family Black (blood adoption)
Lord of the Ancient and Noble Family Gryffindor (birth)
Lord of the Ancient and Noble Family Peverell (birth)
Lord of the Ancient and Noble Family Slytherin (conquest)
Master of Death
Potter Trust Vault - 8,340 Galleons, 103 Sickles, 13 Knuts
Potter Family Vaults - 12,435,739 Galleons, 649 Sickles, 450 Knuts; 134 magical artefacts and 840 books
Black Family Vaults - 69,546,039 Galleons, 750 sickles, 236 Knuts; 457 magical artefacts and 1476 books
Gryffindor Family Vaults - 9,346,013 Galleons, 648 sickles, 18 Knuts; 1643 magical artefacts and 1734 books
Peverell Family Vaults - 81,746,301 Galleons, 134 sickles, 298 Knuts; 1006 magical artefacts and 1920 books
Slytherin Family Vaults - 846,187 Galleons, 924 sickles, 752 Knuts; 2457 magical artefacts and 3276 books
Mortemis Vault - 3 magical artefacts and 1 book
Magical abilities and blocks:
Core magic – Dark (70% blocked, Albus Dumbledore, November 1st 1981)
Parseltongue (Failed Block, Albus Dumbledore, November 1st 1981)
Wandless magic (Blocked, Albus Dumbledore, November 1st 1981)
Wordless magic (Blocked, Albus Dumbledore, November 1st 1981)
Magic sensitivity (Blocked, Albus Dumbledore, November 1st 1981)
Eidetic memory (Blocked, Albus Dumbledore, November 1st 1981)
Hereditary blood magics (Blocked, Albus Dumbledore, November 1st 1981)
House Number 14, Gordrics Hollow, England
Potter Manor, Oxfordshire, England
Villa du Solei, St Tropez, France
Marauders Den, Devon, England
Hideaway Cottage, Edinburgh, Scotland
12 Grimmauld Place, London, England
Black Manor, Wiltshire, England
Castle Black, St. Petersburg, Russia
Eagles nest, Isle of Skye, Scotland
Soul bond - Tom Marvolo Riddle (Blocked, Albus Dumbledore, November 1st 1981; Twice Nullified, Tom Marvolo Riddle, October 31st 1981 and May 2nd 1998)
Godfather bond - (Blocked, Albus Dumbledore, November 1st 1981; Nullified, June 18th 1996)
Blood Glamour (Albus Dumbledore, November 1st 1981)
Loyalty Keyed to Albus Dumbledore (Albus Dumbledore, July 31st 1991)
Loyalty Keyed to Gryffindor House (Albus Dumbledore, July 31st 1991)
Loyalty Keyed to the Order of the Phoenix (Albus Dumbledore, July 31st 1991)
Loyalty Keyed to Ronald Weasley (Albus Dumbledore, July 31st 1991)
Loyalty Keyed to Ginevra Weasley (Albus Dumbledore, July 31st 1991)
Loyalty Keyed to Molly Weasley (Albus Dumbledore, July 31st 1991)
Distrust Keyed to Slytherin House (Albus Dumbledore, July 31st 1991)
Distrust Keyed to Severus Snape (Albus Dumbledore, July 31st 1991)
Distrust Keyed to Dark Magic (Albus Dumbledore, July 31st 1991)
Shame Compulsion Keyed to Home Life (Albus Dumbledore, July 31st 1991)
Recklessness Charm (Albus Dumbledore, September 1st 1991)
Anti-authority Charm (Albus Dumbledore, September 1st 1991)
Selflessness Charm (Albus Dumbledore, September 1st 1991)
Distrust Keyed to Draco Malfoy (Albus Dumbledore, September 3rd 1991)
Loyalty Keyed to Hermione Granger (Albus Dumbledore, October 31st 1991)
Love Potion Keyed to Ginevra Weasley (Albus Dumbledore, Molly Weasley, Ginevra Weasley, September 1st 1995)
Harry wasn’t sure how long he sat, staring at nothing, as he tried to process what the document in his hand said. Eventually he came to when Ragnok cleared his throat.
“All is in order I trust,” Ragnok stated, wondering what had caused such a reaction in the wizard as he had been sitting shock still for the last five minutes.
Harry blinked and nodded his head before shaking it. “I-I'm not sure,” he said eventually, before passing the parchment over to him. Tom Riddle, the man, no, the monster who killed his parents and tried to destroy the world was his soulmate and Dumbledore... Dumbledore had spent Harry's entire life drugging him. Harry didn’t even know who he was anymore.
Ragnok took the parchment from the shocked young wizard and read it quickly before swearing violently in gobbledygook. He ordered Elder Floki to go and get a healer as he placed the parchment on his desk.
“Mr. Potter, it would seem you're under the control of a number of charms, compulsions, and potions,” he stated. “I believe it would be best if you were to have them removed before we continue our business.”
Harry stared at the goblin with narrowed eyes, his shock addled brain finally deciding to focus on the situation at hand instead of what he had just read.
“I agree, however I know nothing in this world comes without a price. What's yours?”
Ragnok smiled toothily at the wizard, glad that he had pulled himself together. “100 galleons for a full body flush and unblocking of your magical core and abilities,” Ragnok stated.
“Deal.” Harry agreed with a nod, although the price was steep apparently he could afford it.
Just then the doors opened and a small female goblin walked in. Nodding her head before Ragnok, she spoke quickly to him before she turned to Harry and looked him up and down with considering eyes.
“I am healer Maeve,” she stated.
“Greetings healer Maeve,” Harry said, nodding his head in respect.
Pursing her lips at the young wizard, she once again nodded her head before walking out. “You will follow me,” she instructed.
Harry was surprised at her sudden exit and turned to look at Ragnok who didn’t seem bothered by her attitude.
“We will continue our business at a later date, Mr. Potter,” Ragnok said, dismissing Harry with a wave of his hand.
Harry turned and hurried after the healer, following her deep into the caves under Gringotts. Finally, after five minutes of walking they came to a stop and entered a large, open room. The walls were decorated with intricately carved runes, some of which Harry recognised but most were foreign to him. In the centre of the room was a raised table surrounded by a circle of runes and candles.
“My husband has told me what has been done to you, young lord,” Maeve said, directing Harry's attention to her. However before Harry could question her, she spoke again. “You will strip for me, including your magical glamours and lie on the table,” she instructed.
Harry found himself blushing at her no-nonsense attitude and fumbled with his cloak clasp. Maeve, watching this as she gathered the required ingredients, shook her head and found the young wizard a white sheet to wrap around his waist. Harry nodded his thanks and finally stripped off of his clothing quickly, wrapping the sheet around himself before sitting on the table. Concentrating on the spell threads holding his glamour in place, Harry felt a slight tingle along his face as they fell away.
“This process will be painful,” Maeve said, watching as the wizard finished the process of baring himself.
“I can handle pain,” he stated, looking her in the eye and thinking of all the pain he had gone through in his life - all of which had no purpose. Even if this was going to be painful, at least he would gain something from it.
“I will start by flushing your system of potions, before moving on to the charms and compulsions. This will not hurt too much but you will likely feel some discomfort. The blood glamour will then be removed and depending on how much has been changed will determine the level of pain you will experience. Finally, your magical blocks will be removed. This will hurt as your magic is an intrinsic part of you and as you have such a large proportion of your magic blocked this will take time. Thankfully I do not believe you will remain conscious for all of this,” she told him.
Harry found himself nodding. “Thank you healer Maeve, for explaining to me what you will do,” he said, trying to cover his fear.
With one final glance Maeve nodded. “I am ready to begin, you should lie back.”
Lying on the hard table Harry was surprised when he found himself bound by magic, unable to move.
“You will be bound for the procedure to ensure you do not cause damage to yourself or interrupt,” Maeve stated when she saw his eyes widen.
Harry, unable to nod, kept silent and closed his eyes. He didn’t want to risk his voice showing his fear, not that he thought the goblin would judge him but he wanted to embrace this, to try and control as much as he was able to.
Chanting filled the air and Harry found himself drifting as the oddly musical sound passed through him. Suddenly, however, Harry felt a jolt in his mind. The sensation reminded him of when Snape had tried to teach him Occlumency; it was unpleasant but not unbearable. This sensation continued before it grew, the feeling of 100 bees took over his mind and Harry soon found it impossible to think. Finally the sensation passed and the chanting seemed to die out before it started up again. Harry, still unable to focus, soon felt his skin start to stretch and his bones grind together. Gritting his teeth against the pain Harry tried to breathe through it as his face shifted. His very hair started to ache and it felt like every cell in his body suddenly contracted and snapped. Finally letting out a scream Harry felt his back arch and reconnect with the table harshly. Throughout all of this the chanting never stopped, if anything it seemed to grow stronger. Harry, unable to think of anything but the pain that followed, felt like his blood had turned to acid. When he finally lost consciousness he welcomed the darkness that engulfed him with relish.