Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Little Butterfly	By : ChrisF. Category: Harry Potter Crossovers > General - Misc Views: 7557 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I Own Neither Harry Potter, Percy Jackson nor the works associated with them, or any other obvious fandom reference. This means no Money is made, but unless you’re a complete dimwit or this is your first Fanfiction, you know that.

Chapter List
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- 3
Chapter 3

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Narcissa looked at herself and her black lace Emilio Pucci gown in the floor length mirror one last time, running her hands over the hips and checking her hair. She had never been overly fond of Muggles; she freely admitted that – they had always been a bit backwards and foreign to her – but she did admit to liking their dress style. She much preferred it to witches robes.

She had a lot to do that day, and it might seem to be a bit much in comparison to her robes, but she intended to make a statement today. She may not be the Head of them, but she was a Black and a Malfoy and she was going to remind everyone what that meant. She picked up the Parchment that she had received four days ago, and read it yet again – it was easily the tenth time that she had done so that week.
As I respond to your letter, I must have reread it five times. I am not an eloquent man and won’t even try to be. So I will begin by saying that you are indeed right, and that the dark lord has indeed returned, and the consequences will be far reaching.

I’m sure that it won’t surprise you to know that I’m skeptical of your claim and desire to help me – even if you are open about you motives. Your oath went quite far in convincing me that you are in fact genuine, but it is the honesty of your selfish motives that drives my quill. As you said, there are no deep bonds within our family, but you were never one to dirty your own hands, and have been known to hold a grudge.

Saying that, while there is no love lost between Lucius and myself, I have always known that you love him deeply. As such, my sympathy and condolences go to you and my young cousin Draco as well as those of the House of Black to House Malfoy.

Likewise, I must admit to a certain amount of personal pleasure at the idea of using the very house that once served the Dark Lord as an instrument of opposition against him – if only to spite Mother – and it is a weapon that could be useful in the future. Knowing this, I will concede to meeting with you and your barrister to help make my case. If the intent is genuine I will be at Gringotts on the thirteenth of July between noon and three p.m. - ask to see Dgenuk Stonesnapper, the Black Family account manager.
Lord of the House of Black

            Much like she had done herself the end of the letter possessed the seal sigil of the head of house, a large imposing grim with its teeth bared set against a silver shield. It was this that told her that the letter was genuine, because as long as it possessed the seal of the Head of House forms could be signed with whatever the Head of House wanted. She had to give her cousin credit as well, because while the goblins held treaties with the various magical nations, they were a nation unto themselves and held sovereignty. Any act of aggression within Gringotts halls would be seen as a violation of that sovereignty and an act of war, and goblins were not trusting creatures – it’s what made them good bankers. A very intelligent move on Sirius’s part.

            It wasn’t trust and she hadn’t expected it to be. Distrust seems to be a trait that all Blacks share, she thought. So no it wasn’t trust, but he was willing to talk and that was a start. She was willing to wager that Sirius’s desire to be exonerated had weighed heavily in his decision, but she didn’t care. She had gotten the positive result that she had wanted.

            She sat the letter back down on the bureau and picked up her signet ring. Today would be the first day that she had worn it since before the end of the first war. She steeled herself and slipped it on. It was as off a spell had overcome her; the emotions vanished from her face, replaced by a stark confidence and she held herself straighter, head held high – every bit the lady of the house. Today would change the fate the House of Black – for better or worse, she thought as she made her way to the Vestibule floo room.

            She took a pinch of floo powder and stepped into the hearth with a deep breath. “Diagon Alley,” she called and vanished into the floo network, leaving behind a silent Malfoy manor.

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            Knockturn Alley was a dark and quiet place. Unlike its bright and bustling counterpart, Knockturn’s residents preferred to stick to themselves. Where Diagon was sunlit and cheery, Knockturn was dreary and cast in shadows, as if there was a spell over the entire area. Suddenly the peaceful silence was broken by a loud crack, drawing the attention of the alley’s denizens. “It’s official,” Harry complained loudly as they landed, and he stumbled grabbing the nearby wall for support. “There are no magical means of travel that don’t suck! Except brooms,” he added as an after-thought. He loved being in the air on his broom.

            Sirius laughed listening to his Godson’s outburst. “It’s just like learning to walk,” he said as he patted Harry’s shoulder and helped to steady him. “You wobble and stumble, but the more you do it the easier and steadier you get. The trick is to find your center of gravity.” Harry muttered something that sounded vaguely like a particularly rude suggestion, but Sirius only smirked and ignored it. “Come on, we have a lot to do,” he said instead. “Once we get the Potter estate back in order I have some business to tend to, and then we’ll do some shopping before we cross the pond.”

            Harry nodded and followed Sirius quickly from the dark alley into the sun. He wasn’t much of a shopper, but then again he’d always been constrained by the Dursleys’. It wasn’t that he didn’t want stuff, but if he started spending large amounts then they would be curious about where it was coming from, and he wasn’t sure if his aunt could gain access to his account, or if their rhabdophobia extended to gold. Might be fun to splurge a little, he conceded. “Wait a minute,” he said suddenly having a thought. “Not against a shopping trip, but how exactly is that going to work out for you? You can’t exactly go waltzing down Diagon alley for very long.”

            Sirius smirk was hidden in his robe hood as he looked back at Harry. “That’s another reason for the robe pup,” he told the boy humorously. “You can give it to Madam Malkin.” They reached the bank and Sirius took the stairs two at a time with Harry following close behind. The goblins on guard at the doors eyed them briefly but said nothing as they passed. As usual, because Gringotts was the hub of British magical economy, was a den of activity. Sirius waited for an open teller and approached. “Sirius Black – my ward Harry Potter needs to see the Potter account manager.”

            Harry watched the teller as he looked up at them with a distinctly disinterested expression. “Does Mr. Potter have his key?” He asked them with an almost snide inflection, but Harry wasn’t sure that it was intentional. From what Harry knew from Binns classes – those that he paid attention to – and his admittedly limited exposure to the goblins, they were a naturally abrasive race who preferred direct concise interaction. He would wager that was what made relations with the Ministry so tense and strained.

            The goblin was watching him intently, sniffing, and Harry realized to his derision that he did not in fact have his key. “I do not,” he told the goblin in a firm but even voice. He thought about it and realized that he had not actually had his key in a long time. If he remembered correctly then he had given it to Mrs. Weasley in his second year at Hogwarts on their pre-term supply run, and he had never gotten it back. He would need to ask Mrs. Weasley about that when he got the chance. “What can be done to rectify this,” he asked.

            The Teller seemed a bit put off that Harry didn’t have his key, which he – Harry – supposed he understood to a point. If a vault key was Gringotts primary method of identification, then losing it could present minor complications. Personally Harry thought that was a particularly unsecure method, but then again, it made about as much sense as the laminated cards muggles used. “I will need a few drops of your blood to verify your identity,” the goblin informed him plainly. “You will then need to speak to your account manager to have the missing key destroyed, and a new key forged.”

            Harry stopped, he was very uncomfortable with giving away his blood. Unlike some wizards, Harry held no prejudice against the goblins, but he knew what could be done with it now. Given what he had been through he hesitated to freely give his blood to a stranger. Sirius, sensing his godson’s discomfort, laid a hand on his shoulder. “It’s alright Harry,” he told the boy as he lowered his hood to look Harry in the eye. “They will destroy the sample after verification, and I will be watching the whole time.”

            The lowering of Sirius’s hood caused a panic throughout the bank. Gasps rang out at the sight of him, and some men and women ran for the floo while others reached for their wands. Suddenly, there was a deafening crack. A small fire team of four goblins marched forward from out of nowhere with a thunder-struck look on their faces. They wore armor of beaten leather with the chest, arms and legs covered in steel. One of the goblin warriors stepped forward and drew his sword. “There are to be No acts of aggression on sovereign Goblin soil,” he boomed threateningly with a magically amplified voice. “Violators will be held and tried under Goblin law in accordance with the treaty of 874!”

            People froze in shock as they witnessed the spectacle, everyone standing silently and weighing the goblins warning. Soon quiet whispers of gossip and speculation broke out across the hall. It appeared that the people’s fear of the goblins out-weighed the fear of having Sirius Black, mass murdering Death Eater among them. It said a great deal that people would rather that than be tried under goblin law? Harry wasn’t sure how to respond to that. The fire team had vanished under what Harry assumed was an invisibility spell again, and Harry turned his attention back to the teller and his business. “What do I need to do,” Harry asked as he centered himself, exhaling heavily.

            The goblin handed him a dagger that looked more like a stick pin to harry, it was fat, but the length of the thing was no more than three inches. Additionally, he handed Harry a long thin vial that looked like something he’d use in Snape’s class. “Just a few drops Mr. Potter,” he reminded the boy. He watched them like a hawk as Harry handed the vial to Sirius, unaware of the eyes of the bank patrons on them the whole time, and pierced his palm with a wince. Harry made a fist and let a few droplets fall into the vial. He didn’t notice that as he did this his teller, and several other goblins stiffened and turned to Harry sniffing the air hungrily.

            They watched silently as at first nothing happened, and then the vial started to glow a faint white and then shifted to an emerald green, but it was tainted by flecks of black, and gold. Sirius handed the vial back to the goblin and drew his wand, muttering a healing spell over his palm and watched as the swell of blood retracted back into his body, and the cut sealed itself. Meanwhile the desk clerk examined the sample, scowling all the while. The sample did show positive; it was Harry Potter, but the sample was off from their record. He tapped it, muttering in gobbledygook before nodding. He would have to update the record before they destroyed the sample. “Gulley,” the goblin barked and a relatively young looking porter rushed forward in response. “Take Mr. Potter and his companion to see his manager.”

            Harry followed Gulley through the halls of Gringotts when he motioned for them to follow, looking around the halls at his gilded surroundings, but his mind wasn’t focused on that. Instead his mind drifted to the spectacle in the main hall. Sirius was so stupid to show his face like that. He had expected the man to be apprehended, not for the Goblin’s to ignore him. They had been more concerned about violence in the bank. “Do you want to explain what just happened to me,” he whispered heavily to his Godfather. “Why weren’t you arrested?”

            By this point they had made it to an office door with a name plaque on it that read:

Skodam Chaosswiller

Potter Account Manager

            “Lord Black has committed no crime against the Goblin Nation,” Chaosswiller spoke when he heard Harry’s question and Gully waved them in, backing out of the room slowly. “Additionally, as Lord Black has not been tried under Wizarding statute then he is technically not a criminal.”

Thinking about it that way it made an absurd amount of sense, and Harry wondered if the Ministry realized it. Probably not, he thought absently. He was no lawyer, but even he could see the ramifications in that. Sirius could have asked for political asylum wherever he wanted basically and it would most likely be granted, so why hadn’t he? There was nothing holding him to the isles. Except for me, he thought unbidden. The thought made him feel equally guilty and happy.

"I must admit Mr. Potter that I am a bit surprised to see you; most young heirs like yourself don't come until their sixteenth or seventeenth name day.” As he spoke he motioned for Harry and Sirius to sit. “So, what is it that I can do for you?”

Harry nodded and took the seat offered to him in front of the desk, and looked to Sirius to answer his manager’s question. Sirius just looked at him inquiringly. “What, this is your business. Tell him what you need and I’ll help if you need it.” It wasn’t that Sirius wouldn’t help, he just wanted to start teaching Harry how to handle his finances, and while he would be here to help, the best way to learn was by doing.

“Well, there are several issues that need to be dealt with, but before we get into that – because I will forget otherwise – the teller outside said that I need to speak with you about replacing my key, because I don’t have mine.” Harry started to nervously tell the Chaosswiller his business, but as he spoke his voice began to gain confidence.

“Indeed. Knucklebreaker did make note of that,” the goblin said as he looked over his clipboard of notes. “It won’t be a problem. It seems that you had to update our record of your magical signature anyway, so it’s the best time.” He reached into his desk and pulled out a slip of parchment and a black quill, sliding them to Harry. “You’ll need to sign that, acknowledging the destruction of your previous key and the mandatory fee.”

“Careful Harry, that’s a blood quill,” Sirius spoke up suddenly. “It uses your own blood as ink, it’ll sting a bit.”

Harry nodded gratefully for the warning. The goblins really seemed to like blood, but when he thought about it he wasn’t that surprised. Not only were the goblins a war-like race, but it made sense. It was a magical form of bio-metrics almost, and very hard to counterfeit. He wasn’t at all surprised by the idea of paper work or signatures either; muggles were the same way, he just hoped that he didn’t have a new scar by the end of it all.

He skimmed over the paper without really reading it – nobody ever read the contracts they signed – and scribbled his name in a loopy, elegant script. He winced slightly as the quill dug into his flesh, but said nothing and handed it back. “I was also told that you could help me to arrange a passport and Portkey,” he continued. “I need to do some traveling with my Godfather over the summer holiday.”

“We can help with that as well,” Chaosswiller made another note on his parchment. “That could, however, take some time. The portkey itself is a simple matter, but the passport would have to be approved by your Ministry.”

“I would be willing to pay for all of this of course,” Harry said diplomatically. “Which brings me to my main point; I will need an asset audit to officially assume control of my holdings. I don’t imagine the estate has been very active since my parents’ deaths, and I’ve recently acquired new holdings I’d like to look into.”

Skodam looked at his young client critically and smiled, baring sharp and ill-cared for teeth. He liked this one. “Indeed, it might be wise to perform the audit first and then handle your travel plans,” he said in kind. He reached into his desk again and pulled out a thick piece of parchment, only instead of the typical tan color this one was snow white. “This is mana-paper, we use it to conduct audits. It’s a very magically conductive. Our system should be updated with your signature by now, simply touch it with your wand and channel your magic into it, it will tell us what you can claim and give an account of your total holdings.”

Harry nodded and took the parchment from his manager, holding it between his fingers – to the shock of the goblin – and gently pushed his raw magic into it. It glowed for a moment and he sat it down between them. When it stopped, writing began to fill the page, with words of scorched black and the burning orange stroke of embers in a graceful calligraphy:

Harrison James Potter

Son of:

James Cadmus Potter (Father – Deceased – Blood Adoption)

Thanatos, God of Death (Father – Blessed Claim of Rite)

Unknown (Unknown - Biological)

Lillian Marie Potter (Mother – Deceased – Biological)

Sirius Orion Black – (Legal Guardian)

Blood Status – Pureblood Demi-God

Legal Status – Adult (State Recognition)

Estate Claims:

Lord of the House of Potter (Right of Blood – Paternal)

Lord of the House of Peverell (Divine Right of Blood – Paternal)

Lord of the House of Slytherin (Rite of Conquest)

Lord of the House of Grantham (Right of Blood – Maternal)

Heir Primus of the House of Black (Decree of the Lord of the House of Black)

Total Holdings and Assets:

Three Heretical Seats in the Wizengamot House of Lords –
- House of Potter
- House of Peverell
- House of Slytherin
Stock/Company Holdings –
- %24 The Daily Prophet
- %35 Mr. Pulpeppers Apothecary
- %60 Borgan & Buke’s Book Store
- %51 Chuddly Cannons Quidditch Team
- %48 The Leaky Cauldron
- %25 Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry
- %52 Virgin Books
- %7 Sanford Financial Group
- %33.3 B.P.
Property Assets –
- Knockturn Alley – London
- Hogwarts Campus – Scotland
- Godric’s Hollow – Levenham, Soffick
- Potter Castle - Soffick
- Potter Manor – Los Angeles, California
- Peverell Place – Thessaloniki, Greece
- Riddle Manor – Little Hangleton
- Guant Cottage – Little Hangleton
- Downton Abbey – London, England
Total Monetary Value: 500,000,000 Gallions

Approximate Value in British Pounds: 1.1 Billion

The first thing that Harry thought was what he would like to think that any teenaged boy would think in that situation, Holy shit, I’m loaded! The second most prominent thing that Harry saw was his unique parentage; Thanatos was no surprise, he had expected that, but who was the unknown? “I swear to God, if Snape is my father Thanatos can take me now!”

“Bloody Hell Pup,” Sirius exclaimed looking at Harry with wide, horrified eyes as he fell into a choking fit. “That is not funny!” Laughter was interspersed with the coughing fit contradicting his claim, but the scary thing was that there was a minute possibility. Lily and Sirius had been friends for a time after all. I wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that something had happened between them in later years.

“Indeed,” Chaosswiller said more to himself then to his client. “It would take powerful magic’s to mystify the enchantments of the mana-paper, perhaps your divine parentage has something to do with it. There are many secrets in death after all.” He had five ring boxes now, which he pushed across the desk to Harry, bringing them back to topic. “These are your House signets. As Lord Black would no doubt tell you, once you put them on, the magic of each will judge you and officially mark you as an adult lord of the given estate, with all the rights and responsibilities of that House.”

“Yes, about that, the parchment labeled my legal status as adult. How is that possible?”

“I cannot say for certain without legal consultation, but it is a well-known fact that you participated in the Tri-Wizard tournament. If I had to wager a guess then I would say that was a factor.”

Harry thought it through from that perspective, and it did make sense. At fourteen years old Harry had been entered into a binding contract with three separate states, and judged fit to compete in a tournament meant for adult wizards – declaring defacto Majority status. “If I may,” he asked accepting this information, nodding toward the signet rings.

The ring boxes were glossed so that they shined in the light, and each had a small label with leaf-script of the name of the House on it. When the accountant nodded he leaned forward and took the first box to the left labeled ‘potter’, and opened it. The ring was white-gold with a smoothed calcite dragon’s blood stone set into it. Etched into the stone and laced with silver was a majestic stag, which surprised Harry, because he had been expecting something predictable like a dragon, or a griffin, or god forbid, a lion. He guessed that a stag was just as cliché given his dad’s animagus form, but he had been expecting something Gryffindorish.

He slid the ring on his finger and it began to glow faintly. It expanded and then contracted, fitting to his finger. A buzzing began in the back of his mind, it felt like a tickle, curious and investigative as the magic of his house touched him. As it grew it became heavier and more forceful, racing through his mind and body. He felt as if he were being trampled, like someone had placed a mountain on his shoulders, and like Atlas, he was expected to hold it. It was too much! Stop fighting it, the voice of Thanatos came to him yet again, smooth and firm yet endlessly patient. Remember how you claimed Slytherin; let it flow, don’t fight it.

Harry did remember; he remembered getting lost in the sensation as the tides of magic carried him, of never wanting it to end as the waves thundered in his ears, and the feeling of peace and tranquility when it had. Thanatos was right, he decided and stopped struggling against the stampede. When he did, it stopped and Harry almost felt a sense of pride that wasn’t his but the Potter magic as it finally accepted him and receded. He still felt it in the back of his head just in reach, but it was idle. “Thank you Father,” he said quietly in acknowledgement of Thanatos’s guidance.

He many have said it quietly, but both occupants of the office heard him and it was Sirius who shot him the questioning look. “Father,” Sirius asked.

The hope behind the caution in his Godfather’s voice was palpable, and Harry almost told him that it was as he’d hoped – that it was James Potter. “Thanatos,” he said apologetically. He wondered if he should worry about his Godfather, but then again Sirius really did have a crappy draw when it came to his history: Betrayed by a friend, most of those you love dead and gone, and thirteen years falsely imprisoned by your own government.

Something really needs to be done about that, he thought to himself. Considering the facts, he did not hold out any great hope for a decisive action against Tom. He wondered what he could do about that. He was no politician, but it occurred to him that he could be with work. He was about to claim several Houses with Wizengamot seats, and as people were so fond of pointing out he was The-Boy-Who-Lived.

With his course set, Harry picked up the next box and opened it. This one interested him the most, because it came from his maternal family – his mother’s – and he wondered if his mom had ever claimed it. Like the Potter ring it was stone-set, this time a Herkimer Diamond set, one of the largest he had ever seen, with the Grantham Coat of Arms cut into it: A shield with a crown resting atop it and the shield in two parts. The left side was simple enough, a single bold stripe pointing up toward the crown at an acute angle, with three dots that Harry assumed were meant to be stars. The right was divided into four images; the top two were a lion reared on its hindquarters preparing to strike, Harry recognized this image – as everyone should – it had been on the Royal crest of Britain since the House of Stuart in 1707. The second quarter was two crosses separated diagonally by a stripe. These were repeated in reverse order in the third and fourth quarters.

He felt a certain sense of smug satisfaction as he slid this ring on. He remembered what he had said to Tom in the graveyard at Little Hangleton about being purer of blood then the other man. So he had unknowingly been right, that would stick it to a few of his naysayers, he thought – Less than finding out that he was the Lord of Slytherin, but it was entertaining.

The magic touched him wirily, like a child unsure of a new stranger and got braver when he did not resist. He laughed out loud joyfully at the magic’s playfulness, and explained when he got curious looks in return. “It’s very playful, it feels very young and excited – happy.”

“That makes sense,” Chaosswiller conceded with a nod. “While House Grantham has existed for several hundred years, it has been magical for less than two hundred of those years.”

When it finally settled Harry took the Slytherin ring. This one was different than the over two, because this one was actually in the form of a serpent, resting on the pillow in the box, silver with deep green emeralds for eyes. Harry thought that it looked just like the snake on the Hogwarts crest. “This will be easy,” he said. After all, he had already claimed the House, this was a formality. He reached out to take it and it moved out of his reach. “Who dares claim me,” it hissed challengingly in what Harry knew was parseltongue.

“I am Harry James Potter, Son of Thanatos, Prince of Death and Lord of Slytherin. You will submit.”

The words came to him much the way they had when Harry had claimed the Rite of Conquest over Slytherin, and he didn’t fight it. It felt as if the little thing was challenging him and he couldn’t back down. Its tiny tongue flicked out against his finger, tasting him, sampling his magic, testing his claim. “Master,” it finally submitted in acknowledgment. It slithered up his right pointer finger and curled itself around the length. He gasped in shock and surprise when it bared its fangs and buried them in his knuckle; they were so tiny that it didn’t hurt, but he had not expected it. Its emerald eyes turned blood red as it absorbed his blood before fading back to emerald again and becoming inanimate.

“Well that was unexpected,” he said examining the ring close up now. “Cool ring, but hopefully the last two are less eventful.” He doubted that; he knew that one of the rings was the Peverell ring, which he knew were descended from Thanatos, but he could be optimistic.

He picked it up and examined it as he had all of the others. The stone was simple black hematite that shone in the light. Unsurprisingly, etched into the stone was the mark of Thanatos similar to what had marked him, an equilateral triangle with a line through the middle. He slide the ring on his right hand opposite the Slytherin ring, next to the Potter ring and he felt the cold magic of death overtake him, but unlike before the magic of his other houses reared up angrily and lashed out against it. A blood curdling scream filled the room, shocking them all, but before Harry could react knowledge flooded him as it had in the graveyard, but he knew he would remember this. He knew that it wasn’t just a ring, but a Hollow, given by Thanatos himself. The Resurrection stone was a powerful necromantic object that the wielder could use to summon the souls of the dead. He knew that there were two other objects, a wand crafted by Thanatos himself, and Death’s own cloak, which Harry learned that he already possessed in the form of the Potter invisibility cloak. He felt a faint connection to them all, and he could feel the objects if he tugged on the thread.

Harry took a minute and sat back in the chair, taking a deep breath. “Are you alright Pup?” Sirius asked him, concern lacing his voice as he reached out to grasp Harry’s shoulder. “We don’t have to do this all at once, we can stop for now.”

“It’s alright,” Harry reassured the man, conceding his point. “It’s just a lot to take in. The ring is a Hollow, the resurrection stone.”

The proclamation shocked them both, and Sirius looked at Harry disbelievingly. “Pup, I know that you’ve been reading a lot this week, but the Hollow’s aren’t real. They’re a fairytale from a children’s bedtime story.”

Harry raised an eyebrow in response to his Godfather; if there was only one thing he’d learned in for years, it was that with magic nothing was impossible just unimagined. “And two weeks ago I thought that the Gods were a fairytale only to find out that I’m the son of one,” he argued the point. “The Hollows exist, and this is one of them.” He thought it wise not to say that he was in possession of a second in present company.

“Still, we have other stuff to do today, may as well get this out of the way.” He took the last signet and looked at it; the Black heir signet, simple yet elegant onyx with the image of a sword wrapped in ivy vines, and the swords hilt was the image of a Grimm’s head. “Why,” he found himself asking Sirius. “Why’d you choose me as the heir?”

“Who else would I choose?” Sirius asked him as if it were obvious, and to him it was. “You’re my Godson, and I have no heirs. It was either you, or it passes to Draco Malfoy. Besides, you’re claim is a Legitimate one. My great aunt Dorea Black married your grandfather Charlus Potter, which makes us second cousins, twice removed or some such ridiculousness. Malfoy’s claim while technically greater is superseded by the choice of the Head of House – Me – under the supremacy clause of inheritance law.”

It was a lot to take in, but Harry thought that he understood. Because Sirius appointed him heir, as Head it overrode Draco’s legal claim. He smiled at Sirius and slid the ring on. Being the heir ring and not a Head of House claim he wasn’t expecting much. The magic enveloped him and it felt warm and welcoming, protective like a wolf protecting its cub.

“Now that that has been taken care of I have your new Vault Key and Passport,” Chaosswiller slid a gold vault key across the table. “I took the liberty of advancing the process while you claimed your assets. If you’ll only sign the forms authorizing the transfer.” He slid another couple of forms to Harry. “Now that you’ve claimed your assets all you need to do is channel your magic into a ring and press it to the bottom of the page.”

Harry looked at his signets and pressed the Peverell ring to the pages, channeling magic into it, leaving a dark imprint of the Peverell crest behind. Chaosswiller grinned and took them, giving Harry a leather covered passport and a silver plated chain in return, which Harry secured around his neck. “To activate the portkey simply say ‘Yankee Doodle’. It’s been a pleasure doing business with you Lord Peverell, if there’s anything else Gringotts can do for you…”

“No, thank you Skodam Chaosswiller. I look forward to doing very profitable business with you in the coming days.”

Harry and Sirius quietly made their way out of Chaosswiller’s office before Sirius spoke. “One last appointment before we can move on,” Sirius said as he led Harry through the Hall. It was very clear that he knew where he was going. Sensing the unspoken question from Harry, he elaborated. “I need to see the Black account manager, I’ve arranged to meet my cousin Narcissa about some business.”

Sirius did not say it and Harry had never met her, but he knew who Narcissa was. “Are you sure that’s smart,” he asked. He had nothing against Narcissa Malfoy personally, but the Malfoy’s were well known supporters of Tom, and with the recent death of her husband, which he was sure she already knew about.

“Smart, maybe not, but practical – that’s another matter,” Sirius responded enigmatically. Then he laughed and squeezed Harry’s shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t you worry pup, there couldn’t be a better time for this and if I am wrong them we’re safe as long as we are in Gringotts. Plus, if things do go south we have the portkey.”

Harry thought about that and nodded, he really couldn’t argue that point. Any farther conversation on the subject came to a halt when they reached the Black Manager’s office. “Stonesnapper,” Sirius said cordially. “Thank you for the use of your office in this personal matter.”

“Think nothing of it Lord Black,” the goblin said dryly. “The Blacks have always been valued clients.”

He motioned them toward a conference table that had been set up to one side, and there were two people sitting at it. They stood as Sirius and Harry approached. Sirius nodded silently to the man that he assumed was the Malfoy Barrister and greeted his cousin. “Narcissa,” he said shortly.

Narcissa nodded, responding in kind and the group sat down. To be fair to the both of them it was hard to be friendly after years of estrangement. It did, however, make the silence very awkward. “I’m Jeremy Bones Lord Black,” the Barrister broke the silence to get them all on track. “I must admit that I was extremely shocked when Ms. Malfoy came to me about your case, but with absurdly little research I found no trial transcript, however, that could work in our favor. What I would like from you, to that end, is your perspective of the night in question.”

Harry had been expecting an affidavit, or a written statement of that night. Instead, Mr. Bones pulled out a stone bowl that he recognized as a pensive like the one that he had seen in Dumbledore’s office. Without prompting from Bones, Sirius produced his wand and extracted the relevant memories, and deposited them in the pensive. “Just a moment please,” Jeremy told them and leaned forward to view the memories.

Meanwhile the other three occupants sat waiting awkwardly. “You look lovely Ms. Malfoy,” Harry said after a moment, and it was true. Harry thought that she looked beautiful; she was a very stately woman, who held herself with poise and elegance. As strapless, flowing black dress that was very fitting for a woman of her stature, and long silky black hair like Sirius’s, with streaks of platinum blonde through her hair. “I’m very sorry about your husband.” Harry wasn’t sure that it was a good idea, but he felt that he had to say it.

"Thank you Mr. Potter, you're very kind,” she smiled at him. “Truthfully, Lucius was a good man, but I think it is I who should apologize to you.” Harry wasn’t sure how true that was, but he wasn’t about to besmirch the man’s memory in front of his wife. “I’ve heard much about you from my son.”

He actually laughed when she said that. “Likewise, Draco loves you very much, though I dread to think what you have heard of me.”

"Indeed," she laughed in kind. "I always take his claims with some skepticism. I believe a great deal of my son’s dislike stems from rejection. Sadly, he is particularly spoiled and does not handle rejection well.” It was a well-veiled jab at him, Harry admitted, but he would not take the bait. His reasons for not making friends with Draco were his own. “His tales of your escapades at school are particularly farfetched.”

"Well now that's interesting, because depending on what you were told that's true enough."

He used the example of the Chamber of Secrets, and told her about how Tom had used an old spell to release a basilisk and return himself to the living. He was selective in his retelling, avoiding the fact that it was Lucius that had brought a dark object into Hogwarts with the intent to possess a student. He told her about how Lockhart was a fraud who had tried to curse them and how he had ended up killing the beast to save said student. Narcissa looked at him with wide disbelieving eyes. “I must say Mr. Potter, I am both horrified and impressed. Wizards twice your senior would be found wanting.”

Any farther conversation was cut short when Mr. Bones emerged from the pensive. “This is very good. It will go a long way it proving your innocence, but getting a trial is the easy party, winning it with the majority of the Wizengamot against you…”

“I might be able to help with that,” Harry interrupted with smug triumph. He held up his right hand showing the Potter, Peverell and Slytherin Lordship rings next to the Black Heir ring. “Despite what some will say I am not an attention seeker, but I’m quickly learning that it is a weapon. Influence is power and I’m willing to bet that they’ll listen to the Boy-Who Lived defend Sirius Black.”

Jeremy Bones looked at Harry critically, considering the implications. “Indeed Mr. Potter, and as the Black Heir you can act in Lord Blacks stead as Head of House. I think we have a plan,” he said finally. He pulled out a briefcase and slid a parchment to Sirius. “I need you to sign that, verifying that the evidence you’ve provided is true and accurate to the best of your knowledge.” When Sirius handed the parchment back Jeremy continued. “I’ll take a day to get all this filed and set a trial date. We’ll continue from there; we may need Mr. Potter to act in his capacity as a Wizengamot Lord. As Lord of three Noble Houses he can initiate a Wizengamot Vote on his own.”

He closed his case and stood up with a respectful nod to the other three. "Lord Peverell, Lord Black, Ms. Malfoy," he said according to their rank before making his exit. "I'll be in touch."

The others stood in silence for a moment after he left, unsure of how to proceed. “Harry and I still have some shopping to do before the end of the day,” Sirius said finally. “You’re welcome to join us if you would like.”

“No thank you,” she declined with a polite nod. “I still have much to do before retrieving Draco from the train in three hours, but it was a pleasure to meet you Mr. Potter. I don’t imagine that this is the last we will see of one another.”

“Indeed not,” Harry concurred and took her hand, kissing it daintily. “If everything goes the way we hope we will be seeing much of each other in the future. Knowing this, please give Draco my regards as well.”

Sirius turned to Harry with a deviously playful smirk after Narcissa was gone. “Look at you Mr. Charmer,” He teased Harry. “Your dad would be impressed, although I never took you as one for older women.” This made Harry blush madly, because yes he found Narcissa attractive, he would freely admit to that, but he didn’t see the way he behaved as flirting. Ms. Malfoy was an older woman of class who was deserving of his respect, it was only fitting that he treat her like a lady. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, mind you, but what’s gotten into you pup?”

Harry glanced at his Godfather and sighed when he saw the concern written on his face; Sirius wasn’t talking about his actions with the Malfoy matriarch, but rather his aggressive new interest in politics. “When I was in that graveyard I made a vow,” he said low and firm, his voice dark. “I swore that I would never be weak again, and in this world, in this day and age strength is power and influence as much as it is Magical ability and prowess; and as I told Mr. Bones, as much as I might not like to flaunt my position and fame it is a political weapon. Look at Dumbledore, defeater of a Dark Lord in his own right and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and Supreme Mugwamp.”

Sirius had to stop and think about that. As much as he hated to admit it Harry was right. Dumbledore’s standing was a mix of all those facts, but what got him those positions, and the reason Dumbledore was viewed as such a paragon was his fame for his defeat of the Dark Lord Grindewauld. He had never liked politics, but Harry was right, politics was a powerful weapon that he would need to oppose Voldemort. “Still, be careful,” he warned. “The Muggles have a saying that Power corrupts…”

"Oh you have no idea," Harry conceded, thinking about what he knew of Tom Riddle. He had no intention of becoming anything like that man.

“I think that’s enough gloom for today,” Sirius declared decisively and look his robe off, handing it to Harry. “Time to have some fun and waste some money Mr. Billionaire.”

Harry smirked as he shrunk the robe and put it in his pocket. “You’re right, there’s a few things that I want to get before we go to the states, not the least of which is a new wardrobe for you.

“Hey!” Sirius barked in mock protest. “You’re one to talk!”

When Harry exited Gringotts with Snuffles at his side he greeted the sentinel’s at the door on a whim. “Master Goblin,” he said politely to one while nodding cordially to the other. He looked out ever the alley. “Where to first boy? I need to get a new wand, stop by Flourish and Bott’s, and get a new trunk – my old one has had it. The wand will probably take the longest.”

He remembered how long it had taken them to come to his phoenix feather wand, and he was not hopeful of finding another match. He wondered briefly about skipping it entirely; it wasn’t as if he needed it, but then again a wand would still amplify his spell-work. Looking at Snuffles to decide, he laughed when the dog nudged him and nosed his pocket. “Robes is it? Madam Malkin’s it is then.”

Luckily the alley wasn’t particularly active today, and Harry hadn’t expected it to be. That would make the excursion particularly fast-paced, and they made a quick trek to Malkin’s. “How can I help you,” Madam Malkin’s familiar voice greeted them and she brightened and smiled when she saw Harry. “Ah, Mr. Potter, I was beginning to wonder if I would ever see you in person again. What can I help you with? You’re rather early, didn’t take the train?”

“No I didn’t,” he confirmed, “And as to the matter of my rather long awaited visit, to that end I have a rather large purchase to make.” He waited until she pulled out a pad and quill before continuing. “As far as Wizards attires I need six sets of casual robes, all in primary colors including Black and white, done in linen and terrycloth. I’ll need two sets of formal robes, one in black, and the other in emerald with gold border stitching, done in silk. I’ll need two sets of dragon hide leather battle robes in black; and four sets of Wizengamot Robes with these House crests on one each.” Here he showed her the three Lordship rings with Wizengamot seats and the heir ring. She eyed them bug-eyed for a moment before scribbling furiously.

“I’ll also need a range of muggle clothes for traveling, with the same stipulations in color: Tee shirts, Shorts, jeans, cargo pants, underwear, and socks, and sneakers. I’ll need to double that order too, to match these robes measurements.” He pulled out the robes from his pocket and enlarged them, handing them to her. “It’s my turn to shop for people,” he explained when she looked at him questioningly.

“Well Mr. Potter, the muggle things will be easy enough. I can have an elf collect them while I measure the robe and I think I still have recent measurements for you from Molly Weasley, but the robes will take a day or two.”

That’s fine, you can have them shipped to Camp Half-Blood, Half-Blood Hill, Farm Road 3.141 Long Island, New York 11954.”

“I can do that, but you know that there will be a shipping fee?”

"Just show me where to sign," he said inconsequentially.

Madam Malkin smiled at Harry before beginning to tabulate Harry’s purchases. “Sandy,” she called absently while she worked. “Be a dear and collect Harry’s things while I work.” She handed Harry the receipt that she had calculated. Your total comes to ninety-four Galleons. If you’ll just press your ring to the receipt to authorize the purchase, I can send it off to Gringotts for payment.”

With that done Harry made his exit, with his muggle clothes shrunken in his pocket and made his way to Oliveander’s. The bell over the door rang and Harry was assaulted by the smell of old wood and dust.”Mr. Potter, I was not expecting you,” the old man said coming out of the stacks. Harry had to think that there was an identification ward some kind on the door. “How can I help you today, not a problem with your wand I hope?”

Harry had the decency to blush, even though Ollivander hadn’t accused him of anything. “Well about that,” he said awkwardly. “I lost it in a dual, completely destroyed it actually.” Ollivander gave him the eye and Harry got defensive. “Hey it’s not my fault people are always trying to kill me! Anyway, I’m going to need your help finding a new match, if we can.”

Ollivander sighed reluctantly; in all his years matching wizards and wands Harry had been one of the most difficult. “I will do my best Mr. Potter, but I’m not sure how much luck we will have.” The last time that he had matched Harry they had gone through every wand in his shop, but – ever the optimist – Ollivander squared his shoulders and set to work. They spent what felt like hours going through every wand in the shop, one after the other without a match, both becoming frustrated. “We may have to craft a custom wand Mr. Potter, but I warn you, that will be costly.

“An excellent idea Garrick,” a voice said from behind them surprising the three, causing them to look back toward the entrance and the source. An olive skinned figure stood in the door in a purple robe and jet-black wings folded tightly at his back. “I may be able to help with that.”

“My Lord Thanatos!” Ollivander said in a voice filled with shock, wonder, and fear. Having the God of Death openly grace his establishment was an honor, but it was terrifying. If there was one god you never wanted to see it was Death.

Adversely, the sight of the primordial God made Harry smile from ear to ear. “Father,” he said happily.

“Hello Harrison,” Thanatos said kindly as he stepped farther into the shop. “Garrick is correct; you will need a custom focus, but nothing Garrick possesses will fit and given your heritage a feather from the Phoenix Fawlks will no longer suit you.” He pulled a length of wood from his robe and handed it off to Ollivander. “Sambucus wood from a tree at the banks of the Phlegethon. A feather from the wing of death as the core.” Here he pulled a feather from his own wing for the man. “And the last must come from my son himself.” Harry looked at him lost, not understanding. “There can be no death without life little one, all things in balance.”

“I believe I understand Mr. Potter,” Ollivander said as he worked. “Life balances Death Mr. Potter and the essence of life is…”

“Blood,” Harry finished. He thought once again about Tom’s resurrection and how much of magic centered on blood. “I understand,” he consented and turned to Ollivander. “If you would sir? What I don’t understand is that if blood is life, then why does the Ministry call it a dark art?”

Ollivander fired a low-powered cutting curse at Harry's palm, holding it over the feather and letting the blood drip over it as Thanatos answered Harry. “Fear – Mortals fear what they do not understand; and Hubris, wizards especially who believe that they know the nature of the Universe more than the Gods who created it.”

“That should do Mr. Potter,” Ollivander said surprising Harry as he handed Harry a plain, sleek, black wand that seemed to absorb the light around it. Harry had expected a wand crafting to be a longer process, but as with most magic it appeared that he had underestimated it. “A Powerful and temperamental wand suited for Battle and Death magic’s.”

Harry thanked the old man and took the wand. When the wand met his hand a cold wind blew through the room and a mist seemed to roll from the tip of the wand. “What do I owe you?”

“It’s on the house Mr. Potter,” Ollivander said. “I can scarcely take money from a gift from the Gods. Besides, the materials did not come from me.”

Harry looked at the old Wand maker, but he was not about to argue the point. “Thank you sir, can I get a holster as well? I have no desire to lose this wand.”

“Of course Mr. Potter: wrist, waist, or thigh?”

“Right thigh, I think.” He paid for his purchase. He thanked the wand maker again as he strapped the holster to his thigh and secured his wand, before turning to Thanatos. “Goodbye father.”

“Goodbye Harry, I will be watching…”

Both men watched as Harry and Snuffles made their exit into the street. “Forgive me My Lord, but such an artifact…”

“No Gerrick, there will never be another Wand of Destiny and Harrison’s blood ensures that no one but he will ever wield that wand,” he alleviated the wand maker’s fears.

Meanwhile Harry and Snuffles made quick work of the rest of their shopping. Harry bought a new seven compartment trunk, and paid the extra for the resettable password charm. When he went to the book store he’d have put Hermione to shame. Along with books on politics, the Wizengamot and the ancient Houses he bought books on the genealogy of his Houses. He also bought advanced books on all of his core subjects, and because it peaked his interest a Beginners guide to warding. All told, all of his books ran three hundred and fifty Galleons.

Leaving the book store Harry ducked into the shadows between the buildings. “Come on,” he whispered to his godfather who chased him between the building, transforming out of his animagus form mid stride.

“Ready,” he said a little winded, coming to a stop in front of Harry.

“Hold on tight then.” When Sirius gripped his shoulder tightly Harry grabbed the silver chain for good measure and gripped Sirius tightly with the other hand, and screwed his eyes shut. “Yankee Doodle!”

Endnotes:

___________________________________________________

And there be Chapter the 3rd for all you Lovely people. A lot going on again. Shorter than the last but still longer than expected. Though in truth it could have been much longer as I wanted to add a whole other scene, but decided to hold off one chapter.

Because Harry is now officially off to America, - and I never thought I’d say that as I hate Harry-Goes-To-America stories, but I think I’ve got a bit of an original twist for it – we now have a 5 hour time difference (More depending on where in the country the Characters are at a given time), more than enough time to play with.

I know a lot of you probably don’t like all the political foreshadowing but there is a few things about that. 1) I am studying law so I can’t help myself. And 2) Like it or not, as Harry said, in this day and age Politics is power. It’s a fact of life. It’s how you move and shape the world, and I don’t do Fluff pieces. I don’t do Filler chapters, if something is in my fic, there is a reason for it, even if it’s not apparent at the time

I know that the monetary value is off, but I am NOT doing the math and the HP Lexicon’s currency converter doesn’t work, but as DZ2 says – It’s Fanfiction, and I probably under-shot it anyway. Also, no I did not include Magical inheritances or ability status. Harry could more than likely pay to do that, but overall Gringotts is a Bank

Those who want to complain about the names go on, I accept all feedback after all, but I like Harrison and Lillian over “Harry and Lily”. The same with James middle name, plus it works to illustrate his connection to the Peveralls’.

Yes I completely took mana-paper from something else. 5 points if you can tell me where.

If I remember correctly I think it’s true that Harry never got his vault key back from Molly. I don’t know if this was an oversight on JK’s part, or if it was just assumed and unstated that it was returned.

I know that some people will ardently disagree with the shopping, but every fanfiction needs one good shopping spree

Upon doing some research into the timetable, a Hogwarts school year runs about the same as a normal British academic year. That means that it starts on the 1st of September and runs to the end of the second or 3rd week of July.

This gives British students about a 6 week summer vacation period. This differs from the Americans who Start in early August and end in late May, giving them Roughly 2 months off.

As always, Questions, Comments, Speculation, Criticism's and Flames are all welcome.

Till Next Time Lovelies!
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The Little Butterfly