Categories > Books > Harry Potter > The Afterlife and Times of Myrtle Potter
Chapter 10: A Trip to the Vaults
As Meacham held the door open Harry and Hermione stepped hand in hand out onto the landing then froze.
A lone dementor hovered at the base of the stairs. It appeared to be bowing with its skeletal hands stretched toward them as if in supplication.
With a speed born of necessity Harry quickly whipped out his wand and thought of all the things he associated with Hermione and shouted "expecto patronum!"
A massive golden stag, one of the dementor-killing varieties erupted from the wand and charged the semi-corporeal demon, which flew into the ground at the speed of thought.
The patronus frantically nuzzled the spot where the dementor disappeared; trying so hard to get to it that he chipped the curb with his hooves trying to follow the soul sucker into the ground.
Harry kept Hermione behind him as he advanced on the street, where he saw a gutter and a sewer drain.
"Damn that's one odd-off bugger of a dementor."
He looked at the patronus an asked "could you walk with us for a while, y'know, just in case it comes back?"
The golden stag nodded and let the couple walk ahead before taking up a sentry position following them.
"We're only eleven blocks from the Leaky Cauldron, so I thought we'd just walk. We can take a taxi or even the Knight Bus if you'd rather?"
"No, I think a walk will do us good."
"Y'know," he mused, "I've never heard of a dementor showing up in broad daylight before."
"That's because sunlight hurts them, he must have been in a lot of pain just now."
"And he didn't attack, just floated at the base of the steps while I called up Prongs here."
It was apparently possible for a patronus to look smug.
"Something else," Harry observed, "it didn't feel right."
"How can you know how a dementor feels, Harry?"
"No, I mean he didn't feel right to me. You know how a dementor sucks all the happiness out of you?"
She nodded.
"I didn't feel any of that, just the shock of seeing it hovering outside my door at ten o'clock in the morning."
They walked in silence for a few blocks.
"I hope the Weasleys are all right" he said.
"Me too," she agreed, "but it could have been worse, at least they're all alive."
Harry nodded then added grimly, "More or less, I wonder how Ginny's doing with Ron? I need to talk to her about treating the KoA's" at Hermione's puzzled expression he clarified "Kissed of Azkaban."
"Will you be okay seeing Ginny again?" she asked, unsure of how he would react.
"I really thought she was the one, y'know?" he confessed "You and Ron were just about engaged and you seemed so happy and Ginny and I were going to get back together and we'd be one big, happy Weasley family."
"You would have been good for Ginny" she said, almost sadly "she went through quite a string of boyfriends who, well, y'know, just wanted to use her. But you're not like that, you're loyal, and you don't like being used so you don't use people."
"You would have been good for Ron," he said, barely audibly, "you would have given him focus, maybe a little drive to better himself. I never told you how I really felt about you because it would have driven a wedge between us. I was going to dance at your wedding and be happy for you because you would have been hap - happy" at this his composure began to shatter.
"What kind of miserable git am I?" he groaned, "shagging my best mate's girl as soon as he's gone, and he's not really even gone is he?"
She grabbed him by his shoulders and spun him to face her then pulled him into a fierce hug "it's not like that, love, I liked Ron, but we would never have gotten married, even he realized that. Listen Harry, I dated Ron so that you would be free to date Ginny, I was going to dance with you at your wedding and wish you every happiness, then I was going to move to New Zealand, because I couldn't stand to see you happy with someone, anyone else."
He sniffed, "so you and Ron?"
"Oh puleeze Harry, anyone who thinks we'd wind up together is delusional!"
He nodded his understanding and took a deep breath as they rounded the corner to see the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron.
"Thanks Prongs" he said to the patronus as it faded away.
They walked into the pub and saw what looked like the aftermath of a battle. Wizards and witches and assorted other magical creatures were lying all over the tables and floors. The only normal sight was Tom the barman wiping glasses behind the counter.
"Din't have the heart to tell em' t' go home, so I let em' kip here f' the night" he said as he rinsed two more glasses "that was some party las' night, wot?"
Harry smiled at Hermione, "oh yes Tom, some party indeed."
"I kin see you two don' need no sobering charm" he grinned.
"Not today, but I think your customers will be needing them before long."
The old barman smirked and pointed to the shelf with the sign, "Guaranteed Hangover Potion, Three Galleons."
Harry laughed, "Always knew you were a good man of business, Tom!"
They tip-toed over the slumbering patrons and entered the Alley. Merchants were cleaning up after the party, streamers hung from every horizontal surface.
"We'll be needing a visit to Gringotts, then Madame Malkin's."
They climbed the stairs to the wizarding bank and walked in, it was nearly deserted, only a few merchants making deposits or getting change for the day. They walked up to one of the bored looking tellers.
"I'd like to make a withdrawal please."
The goblin sat up behind his ledger, "name please."
"Harry Potter."
What little noise there was in the bank ceased, you could have heard an owl's feather drop.
A very old goblin appeared at Harry's elbow "could you come with me please, Mr. Potter?"
"Is there a problem?"
"No sir, no problem at all, but we should not be discussing certain matters in the lobby sir" the goblin gestured to an open door.
"May Hermione come with me?" he asked.
"Of course, Mr. Potter, anyone with eyes can see that you are mate-bonded."
Hermione's eyebrows lifted, "mate-bonded."
"Aye; and it's a rare thing to see two young souls finding themselves so early in life" the goblin said by way of explanation.
"I like the sound of that" Harry said and smiled, "we've always been best friends, now we're mate-bonded, whatever that means."
Hermione looked very serious as she explained, "Harry, mate bonding is the goblin equivalent of marriage; mate bonds form when souls merge, in essence, the couple shares a single soul."
"Mine or yours?" he asked, only half-jokingly.
"Both actually, it means our souls combine," she looked deadly serious; "it means we can't ever be separated, even by death."
"So if one of us dies?"
"The other will still have the bond, and will probably follow close behind."
Harry looked thoughtful for a moment, "I think maybe my parents were-mate bonded, um, Hermione, are you all right with this? It seems pretty serious."
"Just ask yourself two questions, Harry, how do you feel about spending the rest of your life with me?"
He smiled.
"Harry, I'm going away tomorrow, I can't see you anymore."
He looked so devastated that she had to pull him into a fiercely loving embrace "oh Harry, I didn't mean that, I just had to know because," she choked out the words "because that's how I feel about you too."
He sniffed and said, "I guess we're well and truly mated then, huh?"
She nodded in agreement as they entered the conference room.
"Mr. Potter, Mrs. Potter" the honorific caught both teens by surprise, "I beg your pardon; is there some other form of address that you would prefer?" the goblin asked.
"Um, no," Harry put in, "if it's okay with you?" he asked Hermione.
"Within these walls I prefer Mrs. Potter," she said smoothly, "in business dealings outside the purview of Gringotts I would rather be Miss Granger."
The goblin understood completely "to business then."
He turned to face Harry and said "you are the last remaining member of the Ancient House of Potter, and as such have certain duties and obligations upon reaching your majority, which, according to our records, was three months ago."
"Well, yes, I was a bit preoccupied" Harry said by way of apology.
"Ah yes, fighting the dark lord and all his minions, nice piece of work that, by the way, very well done."
"Um, Thanks?" Harry said, almost as a question.
"The maintenance fees on your properties at Godrick's Hollow and more recently, Number 12 Grimauld Place have been in arrears for," the goblin shuffled a few papers on his desk, "here it is, in arrears for seventeen years, at a rate of 17 Galleons, 6 sickles, and 2 knuts per year compounded daily for seventeen years . . . carry the one, 209 thousand Galleons, and 2 knuts."
Harry was shell shocked, he thought he was well off, and now it turns out he'd inherited debt?
"Um, at least the knuts cancel out, right?"
"I can see this is a bit of a shock to you Mr. Potter, your trust vault has been depleted but your family vault is untouched, and if you will appoint a manager for your properties, they can go back to making money rather than incurring debt."
"How is that Mr. um, I'm sorry, I don't know your name."
"My apologies Mr. Potter, Sharpclaw head of the clan Sharpclaw at your service sir."
"How is it that my family's properties have been making money Mr. Sharpclaw?"
"Mr. Potter, Godrick's Hollow is the burial place of your ancestor, Godrick Gryffindor, and to this day is a favorite tourist spot among witches and wizards from all over the world."
"So people are visiting the burned out ruin of my old home to visit a gravesite?"
"Actually, Mr. Potter, they're visiting the tomb of Godrick Gryffindor, I'm afraid your old house is now a car park."
Harry began to see red.
"And who authorized the car park on my family property?"
"No one Mr. Potter; neither was anyone stopping them, and as you may know, it's easier to get forgiveness than permission."
Harry stood up, angry.
Sharpclaw raised a placating hand "Mr. Potter, I am going to do something that I hope you will never share, I'm going to give you a bit of free advice. First get a layer, a good one, then get a good account manager for your properties, otherwise, the rest of the Potter fortune will simply evaporate. Lastly you are the Boy Who Lived, the Man Who Triumphed, the one who delivered the elves from bondage, use that fame to your own benefit, because if you do not, someone else surely will!
Harry took a deep breath, "can you recommend a good layer?"
"I can, but I know that you are familiar with the Chief Justice of the Wizengamot?"
"Judge Vance?"
"The same; come to me for banking advice Mr. Potter. To find a good layer, ask a judge."
Harry wasn't as broke as he feared, but he wasn't as well off either, still he could stand to buy some new clothes so he and Hermione took the cart to his family vault to asses his finances.
"Mr. Sharpclaw, may I have copies of my family's ledgers please, I'll need them to give to the layer and the accountant."
"Of course Mr. Potter" the goblin agreed.
Within minutes Harry had an accounting of his assets, real estate: Number 12 Grimauld Place, the property on which his parent's home used to stand in Godrick's Hollow.
"You would have thought an Ancient Family would have a manor somewhere" Hermione mused.
"May I," Sharptooth asked, and flipped to the third page of Harry's assets.
"Ah," Harry said, a little dumbstruck, "it seems I, um, we have a nice little mountain home in western Canada, a town called Banff."
Hermione's eyes grew wide, "did you day Banff?"
"According to the deed, we own, um a mountain and a Swiss-style chalet."
"Harry, that's in the Canadian Rockies and it's one of the most beautiful places on Earth!" she practically squealed.
Sharpclaw flipped to the last page of assets and pointed with the sharp claw of his index finger.
"And an island in the Caribbean" he said, blowing out a deep, calming breath.
Sharpclaw cleared his throat, "you will need a competent accountant and a properties manager as well as a good lawyer Mr. Potter."
"Mr. Sharpclaw, would it be possible to have a goblin as my accountant and properties manager?"
The look that the goblin gave Harry was enough to make him wonder if he had just inadvertently begun the next goblin war "if the request is out of line Mr. Sharpclaw, please excuse me, I'm not that familiar with wizard and goblin customs and I just thought . . ."
In a voice fraught with emotion the goblin asked, "What made you think that a goblin could be responsible for the assets of two of the Most Ancient wizard families?"
"Um, again, no offense meant, I just thought that since you, the goblins I mean, pretty well handle all of the banking anyway that you would know best how to put it to good use. I mean no one knows wealth management better, right?"
"And you are sanguine with the idea of a goblin handling your finances?"
"Well, yeah, but if we can't have a goblin manager I would use whoever you recommend?" the last part came out like a question.
Hermione put a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder and explained, "Mr. Sharpclaw is just surprised that the scion of two ancient houses would trust a goblin to manage his wealth and properties, most wizards consider goblins to be beneath them and treat them with contempt. It's why goblins are so short, no offence Mr. Sharpclaw, when dealing with wizards and witches."
"That's just crazy, you'd have to be an idiot to treat the people that handle your assets like that, how does that make the goblin's want to work hard on your behalf?"
"It doesn't, Mr. Potter" Sharpclaw admitted, "but if you're in earnest, I will have at least four applications for the positions of accountant, financial advisor and properties manager by two of the clock this afternoon, sir."
"Please, Mr. Sharpclaw, just call me Harry?"
"Only if you'll call me Sharpclaw, Harry."
"Sharpclaw it is then" he said and extended his hand, which the goblin took, accidentally scratching Harry's wrist in the process.
"I apologize sir, I mean Harry, goblins do not shake hands in greetings and you are the first wizard to offer his hand in friendship to me" he took a small, very sharp dagger from his belt and asked Harry to please hold it, point up. As Harry complied Sharpclaw used the point of the dagger to scratch his own wrist.
"I had to do that sir, I mean Harry, because I have your blood on my hands you must have mine on yours."
"Are there any other things I need to know, should I be banging my head on the table or something about now?"
The goblin laughed, a high nasally sound, "No Harry, we're all good and even now."
The goblin got serious once more, "you'll be wanting this Harry" and handed over a lacquered box, about the size of a book.
Harry opened the box and saw four rings.
"The first ring is the Potter family ring; it can only be worn by the current head of the house of Potter, at the death of the patriarch the ring returns to this box in this vault."
Harry remembered seeing the ring in the pictures of his father, worn on the ring finger of his right hand.
"The other rings are your parent's wedding rings" Sharpclaw explained, "They were charmed to return to this box in like manner."
Harry ran his finger over his dad's wedding band, then his mum's engagement ring and complimentary band. He lifted the family crest ring from the box.
"I suppose I should start wearing this now?"
"It is your privilege and your responsibility Harry" the goblin agreed.
Harry placed the band on the third finger of his right hand and was a little startled when it sized itself to fit.
He pocketed one other ring from the box before placing it back on the shelf from which it had come.
"We'll need enough galleons to buy some new clothes and a few sundries, how much should I take?"
"For a full wardrobe, I should think 150 galleons each, and sundries, well, that depends what they are."
"I don't suppose you have something like a credit card?"
"No, but we can charm your moneybags so that they can access your galleons directly."
"That will do, thank you, I'd like two please."
Hermione looked startled, "no Harry, that's your money."
He took both her hands in his and said earnestly, "it's not my money, it's not your money; it's the money. We're mate-bonded and I think if that's good enough for the goblins it's good enough for us."
Sharpclaw sniffed, then hawked and spat, "bonding vows always make me cry Harry" he said, obviously embarrassed.
"Come along Mrs. Potter, we're embarrassing our goblin friend" Harry smirked.
What he didn't realize was that by naming Sharpclaw 'goblin friend' he had cemented the clan of Sharpclaw to the clan of Potter for the next ten generations.
The cart ride to the Black family vault was as exciting as usual, just too short. In the vaults he saw many objects chained to the wall or inside metal cages held with iron chains and locks.
"Sharpclaw," Harry asked, eyeing the objects warily, "is there an inventory of the contents of this vault?"
"Of course, Harry" the goblin replied, and produced a thick sheaf of parchments.
"The Goblet of Poison, deadly to any but the scion of the House of Black, Terpsichorean caltrops, elfin silver undergarments which will turn any blade or projectile point, eye daggers, scrotum scythe . . ."
Harry paled as he read the list, "are all of these objects charmed, or rather, cursed?"
"I'd have to say the most are, yes."
"Is there anyway to dispose of them?"
Sharpclaw looked pensive for a moment, "I tell you this as a goblin friend Harry, I could tell you that we goblins would 'dispose' of the objects for you, but in fact we would sell them to whichever dark wizard gave us the best price" he shrugged apologetically. "The best way to ensure these objects will never be used against you is to leave them where they are."
Harry pondered that for a moment; then nodded in agreement.
The goblin handed Harry another lacquered box, similar to the one in his other vault, inside were the ring and two sturdy silvery chains with pendants that were, in fact, two small stoppered bottles inside finely wrought silvery leaf-work.
"Mr. Black's last will and testament makes you the head of the Black family, you may wish to wait before placing the ring on your finger, Harry" Sharpclaw advised.
"Why is that?"
"As head of the Black family you can be called on accounts for the actions of your family members, namely Bellatrix Black, Narcissa Black, and by blood association, Draco Malfoy."
Harry pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, "I really need someone to teach me about the rights and responsibilities as the head of a house."
"The head of an /Ancient House/, Harry" Sharpclaw corrected.
"Any suggestions?"
"One, but I think you'll hesitate to accede to it" the goblin smirked.
"Who?"
"One of the black family members is languishing in a lower cell in Azkaban at this moment, contemplating the next fifty years or so in a windowless cell, with only vermin for company."
"Who?" Harry repeated.
"Narcissa Black Malfoy."
_____ooo000ooo_____
Author's Note: As always my undying gratitute for my faithful Beta Great Writer Sarah. You rock!
As Meacham held the door open Harry and Hermione stepped hand in hand out onto the landing then froze.
A lone dementor hovered at the base of the stairs. It appeared to be bowing with its skeletal hands stretched toward them as if in supplication.
With a speed born of necessity Harry quickly whipped out his wand and thought of all the things he associated with Hermione and shouted "expecto patronum!"
A massive golden stag, one of the dementor-killing varieties erupted from the wand and charged the semi-corporeal demon, which flew into the ground at the speed of thought.
The patronus frantically nuzzled the spot where the dementor disappeared; trying so hard to get to it that he chipped the curb with his hooves trying to follow the soul sucker into the ground.
Harry kept Hermione behind him as he advanced on the street, where he saw a gutter and a sewer drain.
"Damn that's one odd-off bugger of a dementor."
He looked at the patronus an asked "could you walk with us for a while, y'know, just in case it comes back?"
The golden stag nodded and let the couple walk ahead before taking up a sentry position following them.
"We're only eleven blocks from the Leaky Cauldron, so I thought we'd just walk. We can take a taxi or even the Knight Bus if you'd rather?"
"No, I think a walk will do us good."
"Y'know," he mused, "I've never heard of a dementor showing up in broad daylight before."
"That's because sunlight hurts them, he must have been in a lot of pain just now."
"And he didn't attack, just floated at the base of the steps while I called up Prongs here."
It was apparently possible for a patronus to look smug.
"Something else," Harry observed, "it didn't feel right."
"How can you know how a dementor feels, Harry?"
"No, I mean he didn't feel right to me. You know how a dementor sucks all the happiness out of you?"
She nodded.
"I didn't feel any of that, just the shock of seeing it hovering outside my door at ten o'clock in the morning."
They walked in silence for a few blocks.
"I hope the Weasleys are all right" he said.
"Me too," she agreed, "but it could have been worse, at least they're all alive."
Harry nodded then added grimly, "More or less, I wonder how Ginny's doing with Ron? I need to talk to her about treating the KoA's" at Hermione's puzzled expression he clarified "Kissed of Azkaban."
"Will you be okay seeing Ginny again?" she asked, unsure of how he would react.
"I really thought she was the one, y'know?" he confessed "You and Ron were just about engaged and you seemed so happy and Ginny and I were going to get back together and we'd be one big, happy Weasley family."
"You would have been good for Ginny" she said, almost sadly "she went through quite a string of boyfriends who, well, y'know, just wanted to use her. But you're not like that, you're loyal, and you don't like being used so you don't use people."
"You would have been good for Ron," he said, barely audibly, "you would have given him focus, maybe a little drive to better himself. I never told you how I really felt about you because it would have driven a wedge between us. I was going to dance at your wedding and be happy for you because you would have been hap - happy" at this his composure began to shatter.
"What kind of miserable git am I?" he groaned, "shagging my best mate's girl as soon as he's gone, and he's not really even gone is he?"
She grabbed him by his shoulders and spun him to face her then pulled him into a fierce hug "it's not like that, love, I liked Ron, but we would never have gotten married, even he realized that. Listen Harry, I dated Ron so that you would be free to date Ginny, I was going to dance with you at your wedding and wish you every happiness, then I was going to move to New Zealand, because I couldn't stand to see you happy with someone, anyone else."
He sniffed, "so you and Ron?"
"Oh puleeze Harry, anyone who thinks we'd wind up together is delusional!"
He nodded his understanding and took a deep breath as they rounded the corner to see the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron.
"Thanks Prongs" he said to the patronus as it faded away.
They walked into the pub and saw what looked like the aftermath of a battle. Wizards and witches and assorted other magical creatures were lying all over the tables and floors. The only normal sight was Tom the barman wiping glasses behind the counter.
"Din't have the heart to tell em' t' go home, so I let em' kip here f' the night" he said as he rinsed two more glasses "that was some party las' night, wot?"
Harry smiled at Hermione, "oh yes Tom, some party indeed."
"I kin see you two don' need no sobering charm" he grinned.
"Not today, but I think your customers will be needing them before long."
The old barman smirked and pointed to the shelf with the sign, "Guaranteed Hangover Potion, Three Galleons."
Harry laughed, "Always knew you were a good man of business, Tom!"
They tip-toed over the slumbering patrons and entered the Alley. Merchants were cleaning up after the party, streamers hung from every horizontal surface.
"We'll be needing a visit to Gringotts, then Madame Malkin's."
They climbed the stairs to the wizarding bank and walked in, it was nearly deserted, only a few merchants making deposits or getting change for the day. They walked up to one of the bored looking tellers.
"I'd like to make a withdrawal please."
The goblin sat up behind his ledger, "name please."
"Harry Potter."
What little noise there was in the bank ceased, you could have heard an owl's feather drop.
A very old goblin appeared at Harry's elbow "could you come with me please, Mr. Potter?"
"Is there a problem?"
"No sir, no problem at all, but we should not be discussing certain matters in the lobby sir" the goblin gestured to an open door.
"May Hermione come with me?" he asked.
"Of course, Mr. Potter, anyone with eyes can see that you are mate-bonded."
Hermione's eyebrows lifted, "mate-bonded."
"Aye; and it's a rare thing to see two young souls finding themselves so early in life" the goblin said by way of explanation.
"I like the sound of that" Harry said and smiled, "we've always been best friends, now we're mate-bonded, whatever that means."
Hermione looked very serious as she explained, "Harry, mate bonding is the goblin equivalent of marriage; mate bonds form when souls merge, in essence, the couple shares a single soul."
"Mine or yours?" he asked, only half-jokingly.
"Both actually, it means our souls combine," she looked deadly serious; "it means we can't ever be separated, even by death."
"So if one of us dies?"
"The other will still have the bond, and will probably follow close behind."
Harry looked thoughtful for a moment, "I think maybe my parents were-mate bonded, um, Hermione, are you all right with this? It seems pretty serious."
"Just ask yourself two questions, Harry, how do you feel about spending the rest of your life with me?"
He smiled.
"Harry, I'm going away tomorrow, I can't see you anymore."
He looked so devastated that she had to pull him into a fiercely loving embrace "oh Harry, I didn't mean that, I just had to know because," she choked out the words "because that's how I feel about you too."
He sniffed and said, "I guess we're well and truly mated then, huh?"
She nodded in agreement as they entered the conference room.
"Mr. Potter, Mrs. Potter" the honorific caught both teens by surprise, "I beg your pardon; is there some other form of address that you would prefer?" the goblin asked.
"Um, no," Harry put in, "if it's okay with you?" he asked Hermione.
"Within these walls I prefer Mrs. Potter," she said smoothly, "in business dealings outside the purview of Gringotts I would rather be Miss Granger."
The goblin understood completely "to business then."
He turned to face Harry and said "you are the last remaining member of the Ancient House of Potter, and as such have certain duties and obligations upon reaching your majority, which, according to our records, was three months ago."
"Well, yes, I was a bit preoccupied" Harry said by way of apology.
"Ah yes, fighting the dark lord and all his minions, nice piece of work that, by the way, very well done."
"Um, Thanks?" Harry said, almost as a question.
"The maintenance fees on your properties at Godrick's Hollow and more recently, Number 12 Grimauld Place have been in arrears for," the goblin shuffled a few papers on his desk, "here it is, in arrears for seventeen years, at a rate of 17 Galleons, 6 sickles, and 2 knuts per year compounded daily for seventeen years . . . carry the one, 209 thousand Galleons, and 2 knuts."
Harry was shell shocked, he thought he was well off, and now it turns out he'd inherited debt?
"Um, at least the knuts cancel out, right?"
"I can see this is a bit of a shock to you Mr. Potter, your trust vault has been depleted but your family vault is untouched, and if you will appoint a manager for your properties, they can go back to making money rather than incurring debt."
"How is that Mr. um, I'm sorry, I don't know your name."
"My apologies Mr. Potter, Sharpclaw head of the clan Sharpclaw at your service sir."
"How is it that my family's properties have been making money Mr. Sharpclaw?"
"Mr. Potter, Godrick's Hollow is the burial place of your ancestor, Godrick Gryffindor, and to this day is a favorite tourist spot among witches and wizards from all over the world."
"So people are visiting the burned out ruin of my old home to visit a gravesite?"
"Actually, Mr. Potter, they're visiting the tomb of Godrick Gryffindor, I'm afraid your old house is now a car park."
Harry began to see red.
"And who authorized the car park on my family property?"
"No one Mr. Potter; neither was anyone stopping them, and as you may know, it's easier to get forgiveness than permission."
Harry stood up, angry.
Sharpclaw raised a placating hand "Mr. Potter, I am going to do something that I hope you will never share, I'm going to give you a bit of free advice. First get a layer, a good one, then get a good account manager for your properties, otherwise, the rest of the Potter fortune will simply evaporate. Lastly you are the Boy Who Lived, the Man Who Triumphed, the one who delivered the elves from bondage, use that fame to your own benefit, because if you do not, someone else surely will!
Harry took a deep breath, "can you recommend a good layer?"
"I can, but I know that you are familiar with the Chief Justice of the Wizengamot?"
"Judge Vance?"
"The same; come to me for banking advice Mr. Potter. To find a good layer, ask a judge."
Harry wasn't as broke as he feared, but he wasn't as well off either, still he could stand to buy some new clothes so he and Hermione took the cart to his family vault to asses his finances.
"Mr. Sharpclaw, may I have copies of my family's ledgers please, I'll need them to give to the layer and the accountant."
"Of course Mr. Potter" the goblin agreed.
Within minutes Harry had an accounting of his assets, real estate: Number 12 Grimauld Place, the property on which his parent's home used to stand in Godrick's Hollow.
"You would have thought an Ancient Family would have a manor somewhere" Hermione mused.
"May I," Sharptooth asked, and flipped to the third page of Harry's assets.
"Ah," Harry said, a little dumbstruck, "it seems I, um, we have a nice little mountain home in western Canada, a town called Banff."
Hermione's eyes grew wide, "did you day Banff?"
"According to the deed, we own, um a mountain and a Swiss-style chalet."
"Harry, that's in the Canadian Rockies and it's one of the most beautiful places on Earth!" she practically squealed.
Sharpclaw flipped to the last page of assets and pointed with the sharp claw of his index finger.
"And an island in the Caribbean" he said, blowing out a deep, calming breath.
Sharpclaw cleared his throat, "you will need a competent accountant and a properties manager as well as a good lawyer Mr. Potter."
"Mr. Sharpclaw, would it be possible to have a goblin as my accountant and properties manager?"
The look that the goblin gave Harry was enough to make him wonder if he had just inadvertently begun the next goblin war "if the request is out of line Mr. Sharpclaw, please excuse me, I'm not that familiar with wizard and goblin customs and I just thought . . ."
In a voice fraught with emotion the goblin asked, "What made you think that a goblin could be responsible for the assets of two of the Most Ancient wizard families?"
"Um, again, no offense meant, I just thought that since you, the goblins I mean, pretty well handle all of the banking anyway that you would know best how to put it to good use. I mean no one knows wealth management better, right?"
"And you are sanguine with the idea of a goblin handling your finances?"
"Well, yeah, but if we can't have a goblin manager I would use whoever you recommend?" the last part came out like a question.
Hermione put a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder and explained, "Mr. Sharpclaw is just surprised that the scion of two ancient houses would trust a goblin to manage his wealth and properties, most wizards consider goblins to be beneath them and treat them with contempt. It's why goblins are so short, no offence Mr. Sharpclaw, when dealing with wizards and witches."
"That's just crazy, you'd have to be an idiot to treat the people that handle your assets like that, how does that make the goblin's want to work hard on your behalf?"
"It doesn't, Mr. Potter" Sharpclaw admitted, "but if you're in earnest, I will have at least four applications for the positions of accountant, financial advisor and properties manager by two of the clock this afternoon, sir."
"Please, Mr. Sharpclaw, just call me Harry?"
"Only if you'll call me Sharpclaw, Harry."
"Sharpclaw it is then" he said and extended his hand, which the goblin took, accidentally scratching Harry's wrist in the process.
"I apologize sir, I mean Harry, goblins do not shake hands in greetings and you are the first wizard to offer his hand in friendship to me" he took a small, very sharp dagger from his belt and asked Harry to please hold it, point up. As Harry complied Sharpclaw used the point of the dagger to scratch his own wrist.
"I had to do that sir, I mean Harry, because I have your blood on my hands you must have mine on yours."
"Are there any other things I need to know, should I be banging my head on the table or something about now?"
The goblin laughed, a high nasally sound, "No Harry, we're all good and even now."
The goblin got serious once more, "you'll be wanting this Harry" and handed over a lacquered box, about the size of a book.
Harry opened the box and saw four rings.
"The first ring is the Potter family ring; it can only be worn by the current head of the house of Potter, at the death of the patriarch the ring returns to this box in this vault."
Harry remembered seeing the ring in the pictures of his father, worn on the ring finger of his right hand.
"The other rings are your parent's wedding rings" Sharpclaw explained, "They were charmed to return to this box in like manner."
Harry ran his finger over his dad's wedding band, then his mum's engagement ring and complimentary band. He lifted the family crest ring from the box.
"I suppose I should start wearing this now?"
"It is your privilege and your responsibility Harry" the goblin agreed.
Harry placed the band on the third finger of his right hand and was a little startled when it sized itself to fit.
He pocketed one other ring from the box before placing it back on the shelf from which it had come.
"We'll need enough galleons to buy some new clothes and a few sundries, how much should I take?"
"For a full wardrobe, I should think 150 galleons each, and sundries, well, that depends what they are."
"I don't suppose you have something like a credit card?"
"No, but we can charm your moneybags so that they can access your galleons directly."
"That will do, thank you, I'd like two please."
Hermione looked startled, "no Harry, that's your money."
He took both her hands in his and said earnestly, "it's not my money, it's not your money; it's the money. We're mate-bonded and I think if that's good enough for the goblins it's good enough for us."
Sharpclaw sniffed, then hawked and spat, "bonding vows always make me cry Harry" he said, obviously embarrassed.
"Come along Mrs. Potter, we're embarrassing our goblin friend" Harry smirked.
What he didn't realize was that by naming Sharpclaw 'goblin friend' he had cemented the clan of Sharpclaw to the clan of Potter for the next ten generations.
The cart ride to the Black family vault was as exciting as usual, just too short. In the vaults he saw many objects chained to the wall or inside metal cages held with iron chains and locks.
"Sharpclaw," Harry asked, eyeing the objects warily, "is there an inventory of the contents of this vault?"
"Of course, Harry" the goblin replied, and produced a thick sheaf of parchments.
"The Goblet of Poison, deadly to any but the scion of the House of Black, Terpsichorean caltrops, elfin silver undergarments which will turn any blade or projectile point, eye daggers, scrotum scythe . . ."
Harry paled as he read the list, "are all of these objects charmed, or rather, cursed?"
"I'd have to say the most are, yes."
"Is there anyway to dispose of them?"
Sharpclaw looked pensive for a moment, "I tell you this as a goblin friend Harry, I could tell you that we goblins would 'dispose' of the objects for you, but in fact we would sell them to whichever dark wizard gave us the best price" he shrugged apologetically. "The best way to ensure these objects will never be used against you is to leave them where they are."
Harry pondered that for a moment; then nodded in agreement.
The goblin handed Harry another lacquered box, similar to the one in his other vault, inside were the ring and two sturdy silvery chains with pendants that were, in fact, two small stoppered bottles inside finely wrought silvery leaf-work.
"Mr. Black's last will and testament makes you the head of the Black family, you may wish to wait before placing the ring on your finger, Harry" Sharpclaw advised.
"Why is that?"
"As head of the Black family you can be called on accounts for the actions of your family members, namely Bellatrix Black, Narcissa Black, and by blood association, Draco Malfoy."
Harry pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, "I really need someone to teach me about the rights and responsibilities as the head of a house."
"The head of an /Ancient House/, Harry" Sharpclaw corrected.
"Any suggestions?"
"One, but I think you'll hesitate to accede to it" the goblin smirked.
"Who?"
"One of the black family members is languishing in a lower cell in Azkaban at this moment, contemplating the next fifty years or so in a windowless cell, with only vermin for company."
"Who?" Harry repeated.
"Narcissa Black Malfoy."
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Author's Note: As always my undying gratitute for my faithful Beta Great Writer Sarah. You rock!
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