Harry enjoyed looking at the faces of his friend and her mother as they had the first glimpse at Diagon Alley. He knew he must have looked just as funny two years earlier. Hermione's eyes were sparkling, almost as if there were light bulbs inside. Her face looked flushed and her mouth opened a bit, exposing her slightly too large front teeth. Still, he thought she was very beautiful.
Once there, Hermione's interest seemed to be piqued by the book-store. Harry gave her some money beforehand, despite her protests, so she could shop leisurely. "You can spend some time shopping for books. We need to go to the bank first, and I hope it won't take long," Petunia told them.
The goblin teller seemed to expect them. "Follow me, please. Your account manager is waiting, Mr. Potter."
As Petunia tried to go with him, the teller frowned. "This business is strictly for Mr. Potter. He may later decide how much he'd like you involved or not, but right now, your presence is not required and not welcome."
Petunia knew better than to show her feelings to this... creature. "Of course," she said politely, stepping to a nearby bench, fuming inside.
"You were not very nice with my aunt," Harry commented, a moment later.
"My business is to protect my clients' interests, not to be nice. At this moment, it looks like your interest is to get all the information we can give you without anybody's interference."
Harry nodded understandingly.
They stopped in front of a door, indistinguishable from the others on the same corridor, except for the small Potter crest engraved on its upper right corner.
His escort opened the door and announced, "Mr. Potter is here!"
An elder goblin stood up from his chair and motioned Harry to come in and sit on a chair on the other side of the very ornate desk. He only sat back after Harry was seated.
"Mr. Potter, my name is Sharptooth. I've been waiting nine years for this moment. I hope you can forgive an old Goblin for being sentimental. I've been the Potter account manager since Charlus was just a small child, carried on his father's lap. I'm now glad to be able to serve the fourth generation of my clients. But first, we need to formally identify you, especially as I don't see the scar."
Harry smiled nervously. "My aunt just covered it with a band and some makeup. She said it was safer that way."
"Your aunt seems to be a smart lady. Indeed, you don't need to make your presence known prematurely." He put a dagger and a piece of parchment on his desk and Harry did the test quickly, remembering the previous time.
The goblin sighed. "It is my unpleasant duty to read to you your parents' last will and testament. I'm skipping the formal preamble, as it is of no interest. So here is the will:
First of all, we'd like to state that our secret keeper was Peter Pettigrew. If we are dead due to the secret being discovered, then he is to blame. Sirius Black has only pretended to be our secret keeper, in order to draw attention away from Peter. Dumbledore should know all this as well.
Now, if one of us dies while the other survives, we leave everything we own to the surviving spouse. If we both die, we want everything we own, all our assets and possessions, including those on the British Isles and on the continent, as well as everywhere else, to be passed to our only son, Harry James Potter. As the only surviving Potter, he is to be emancipated at the age of ten, becoming the Head of the House, and be given the title of Lord Potter at age fourteen.
Until then, we wish Harry's godfather, our close friend Sirius Black, to act as Harry's guardian. If he can't take it upon himself then we ask our friends Alice and Frank Longbottom to take Harry and raise him as their own, along with their son. If that's impossible, we assign the role to Amelia Bones or our beloved teacher, Minerva McGonagall, in that order. Under no circumstances should Harry be placed with Petunia and Vernon Dursley. Although Petunia is Lily's sister, she and her husband hate magic and are not appropriate for raising a magical child.
The rest is some more formal stuff," the goblin said, looking quite sad.
Harry didn't know what to feel. He was just overwhelmed. He seemed to have inherited a lot of property, although he didn't know how much and was unable to judge the values anyway. He was to be emancipated immediately, whatever that might mean, and become a Lord in four years. Yet what bothered him most was the first few sentences. He had a name to blame for becoming orphaned, and some other names to search for.
"Would you like to visit your vaults now?" the goblin asked him.
"Yes, please."
The old goblin escorted him. They first visited the Potter vault. It looked like a large storehouse, one half filled with stacks of coins, mostly gold, and the other half full of shelves and drawers that Harry wasn't even able to guess at their contents. He just looked wide-eyed at everything.
"You need to put your ring on," the goblin reminded him, pointing at a drawer full of rings, quite close to the door. Harry glanced at the rings, each looking more exquisite than the next. They all looked more elegant and more precious than any ring he had ever seen. Even though he had never really been too aware of values, he was still sure that each of these rings was more expensive than the whole house his family was living in. Maybe even more than the whole street. Yet he found the ring sitting on the "Head of House" note. It looked too big for his small fingers. The goblin pointed to his left ring finger and Harry slid it slowly.
He was surprised to see the ring shrinking to fit his finger and then flash once, quite brightly. He was even more surprised to see a circle of light rising from the floor and scanning him. It flashed a few different colours at some points. It then reached his forehead and stopped altogether, flashing various colours in rapid succession. Harry felt as if it was trying to heal his scar, something that nobody had succeeded before. He started feeling dizzy, and then he felt a sharp pain. He wasn't sure what happened next. He only saw a very worried goblin barely holding him while muttering something in an unintelligible language.
They were soon joined by several serious looking goblins. Harry would have been frightened, had he not been so dizzy. Two of the goblins stood near him, waving their hands and chanting in that language he didn't know. They then conferred, probably discussing what they had found. Eventually, his account manager stepped forward along with another one. The other goblin chanted something and pointed a staff at Harry's head. His dizziness disappeared instantly and he felt a bit funny around his scar. He moved his hand to rub it. He found the remains of the band-aid with some blood on them, but no scar.
"What happened?" he asked.
"Your head-of-house ring contains some very powerful protection and healing charms. It dealt with a few minor problems after you put it on, and then it encountered a much more severe problem at your scar. It seems to have harboured a very dark entity. I called these Elders and they were able to help the ring and remove that entity. It was then just a simple matter of healing your scar. I hope you feel well now, Mr. Potter."
Harry looked around. Somehow, he had been moved from the vault. He was now sitting on the single chair in a round room which seemed to be made of stainless steel.
"How did I arrive here?"
"While the ring and the dark entity were fighting, you seem to have fainted. We had to move you here, to the ritual chamber, to help you fight it. Now, If you're feeling well, I think your aunt is waiting for you."
"Can you remove the blood signs from my forehead? She may panic if she sees them."
Sharptooth waved his hands and Harry felt his forehead become cleaner.
"May I tell my aunt what I've learned here?"
Sharptooth looked pensive. "She was not recommended as your guardian. Quite the contrary, really, yet you seem to be in good relations. Is that so?"
"It was awful, at first, but two years ago, it started changing. By now, I'm quite happy with her as my guardian."
"Well, I hope you come soon, to take possession of your other assets. It's up to you if you let her join you or not."
Petunia noticed immediately that something changed. She saw that there was no longer a disguise on Harry's forehead, neither was there a scar. Looking very closely, she only saw a faint reminder of it. "Are you alright, Harry?" she asked worriedly.
He smiled reassuringly at her. "I'm fine now, and my scar is healed, yet it was scary in between."
She looked at Sharptooth, who was still standing behind Harry. "What have you done to him?"
"His scar started bleeding when he put his head-of-house ring on. Our healers helped him, but we were all a bit scared for him."
Petunia raised her brows questioningly. The goblin didn't respond to that. He just said, "Please bring Mr. Potter here again soon. We have some more things to discuss."
"Are you open at weekends?"
"We're open seven days a week."
"Fine, we shall probably come during the weekend."
Hermione was already looking quite worried when they finally arrived at the book-store. "Harry, what took you so long?" she asked, hugging him fiercely.
"My scar started bleeding when I visited the vault. They took some time to properly heal it. See?" he moved his bangs with his left hand. Hermione saw not only the forehead but also the new ring.
"What is this?" she asked.
"It's a ring," he said, making her frown warningly. "It's my family ring, passed from generation to generation."
"It seems too expensive to be worn by a child. It may attract undue attention. Can't you remove it?"
Harry sounded reluctant. "It is supposed to give me some protection. I wouldn't like to be left without it."
Hermione thought quickly. "I've read that some magical rings can respond to thought commands. Maybe you can command it to stay hidden?"
Harry tried. He was fascinated as his ring faded out, leaving his finger seemingly clear, although he could still feel the ring on it. He couldn't feel it with his other hand, though, and Hermione couldn't feel it either. "I think it's better this way," she finally said, making Harry smile.
They visited the ice-cream parlour as well. Hermione was reluctant to order anything, but her mother encouraged her to try a few flavours. They all sat together to enjoy it. They saw no children of their age there and a bunch of noisy redheads didn't attract them. The ice cream was delicious, though.
As everything in Diagon Alley was paid by money coming from Harry's pockets, Mrs. Granger insisted on paying for lunch, which they took in a much more elegant restaurant than the previous years.
They then went shopping. It was quite different this time. The two women helped each other out, despite their different tastes, while the children soon found themselves in the book department, browsing through whatever books caught their eyes and laughing happily for no reason at all. Somewhat later, Hermione was taken to the girls' department and Harry helped her choose, before going to the boys' department, where Hermione helped him.
It was a fully enjoyable day.
When they finally reached the train, Petunia looked for a closed compartment. These were no longer so common, especially on the suburban trains, but she managed to find one. They went in and closed the door.
"Now, tell me everything that you feel you can," his aunt told him.
Harry had to think a bit, to recall the events of the morning. They already seemed so far in the past. "Well, they led me to my account manager. He had my house crest at the corner of his door. He took my identity test and then read me my parents' will. As expected, they left everything to me."
"Was I mentioned in their will?"
He didn't really want to say it, but he felt he needed to tell the truth. "Yes. They said that under no circumstances should I be handed to you to raise, due to Uncle Vernon's and your attitude towards Magic. I'm sorry."
"Don't. I didn't deserve any better and you deserved much better. Was there anything else?"
"Not much. I didn't ask what exactly I own now, but it seems to be a lot. I then visited the Potter vault and took this ring. It is then that my scar caused problems. The goblins helped me and healed it."
He let his ring become visible. Petunia looked closely at it but said nothing.
"Oh, there was also a mention of some other names there. They said Peter was their secret keeper and not Sirius. Do you know any of them?"
"I've only seen them once or twice. I couldn't form an opinion about any of them."
"Shouldn't we tell somebody? It's Peter who betrayed my parents, not Sirius."
"I'll see what I can do," she promised, "and don't mention anything about your inheritance or the will to anybody."