Chapter Text
Harry was standing at King's Cross station and walking into the other direction of where Aunt Petunia would be waiting in her car to take him back to Privet Drive #4.
He couldn't go back there.
Not after everything that's happened just a few days ago.
So, in a spur of the moment decision, he turned around and walked out of King's Cross station, into a slightly way off alleyway and waved his wand to summon the Knight Bus.
It only took a few seconds until the purple triple-decker bus came to a halt next to him and Stan helped him heft his belongings inside. "Where to?"
"The Leaky Cauldron." He replied, and paid for the ticket before sitting down in a forward-facing seat and buckling himself in. He's learned his lesson last year by trying to stand in this ridiculously fast vehicle. Now securely buckled in, and with all the magic surrounding him, throwing off the Trace, he cast a glamour over his face and transfigured his glasses into a different shape than the round one. They were now with a very thin frame made out of bronce, and the glasses were more like soft rectangles. He smoothed out his scar as best as he could, changed his eyecolour from the usual striking green to a warm amber-brown, and coloured his hair blond.
Hedwig was anything but happy with the bumpy ride, and he made sure to remember to give her some treats before sending her off. He was confident she'd find him whereever he would stay. As much as he loved her, she was far too recognisable to be accompanying him in public.
Soon after they arrived and he let her off, he walked through the Leaky Cauldron and into Diagon Alley, from where he walked to Gringotts. If he was to stay somewhere other than the Dursleys', then he needed money to pay for that accommodation. He entered the building and stopped just inside the entrance to take in the scene. He remembered from his first time here with Hagrid that almost every single Goblin had glared at them when they walked through, and while Hagrid had spoken with one of the tellers, he'd watched other witches and wizards wait at the entrance, until a Goblin led them over to specific tellers.
The hall was relatively empty, save for three people occupying three tellers.
"Name and purpose of visit?" A rough voice next to him spoke up and he saw a goblin with a surprisingly soft-looking face looking at him expectantly. Not wanting to be recognised he dropped his voice to a low murmur.
"Harry Potter, and I would like to withdraw some money from my trust vault." He cast a glance up to see if anyone had overheard and was relieved that seemingly noone had.
It would be a right disaster if someone recognised him, especially since Voldemort was back.
The Goblin infront of him looked surprised, but thankfully didn't announce his name to the world, and led him to the far end of the hall and towards a teller who was currently stamping different documents, it seemed.
The Goblin who brought him here cleared his throat, and the teller-Goblin put his things away and folded his hands.
"Name and purpose of visit?" He too asked, and Harry swallowed before answering. Somehow this Goblin had a much more serious tone than the previous one, despite saying the exact same thing.
"Harry Potter, and to make a withdrawal from my trust vault." At that the Goblin dismissed the other one and leveled him with a glare.
"Well, well, Mr. Potter. Bold of you to show up after we have repeatedly sent you letters regarding that you attend the scheduled meetings with your account manager. My name is Ernast."
That was certainly not something Harry had anticipated to talk about during this visit.
"Er, what? What letters? I have an account manager?" Harry was baffled, and Ernast's eyebrows almost disappeared under his hairline.
"Mr. Potter, we have been sending you monthly updates on your accounts ever since your eleventh birthday, as is protocoll. Have you not been receiving these letters?" Ernast asked, and Harry shook his head.
"No, sir, certainly not. And even if I did, I wouldn't have been foolish enough to ignore them. I may not be the smartest wizard, but I'm not that dim, especially since I know that you Goblins keep my finances safe, and I have been advised to never mess with you."
Ernast looked at him with a thoughtful expression on his face. His small, beady eyes scrutinizing him and it felt like his soul was being picked apart. After a long moment of Harry trying not to fidget around too much and seem like he's intimidated, which he totally was, Ernast gave a decisive nod.
"Very well, Mr. Potter, I believe this is a matter we should discuss with your account manager in further detail. Follow me, please." He hopped off the stool he was sitting on and led Harry into a hallway leading to the backrooms.
The walk was longer than he thought it would be and after about ten minutes the finance goblin knocked on a very inconspicous looking door. A confirmative shout came from the other side, and Harry was sat down infront of a desk.
The office was surprisingly light, with various floating candles all over the room, and incredibly detailed oilpaintings of past goblin wars and rebellions. Even though Professor Binns was no good a teacher, every Hogwarts student knew all about the Goblin Wars and Rebellions.
The furniture was a light wood, he guessed something like birch or maple, and the chairs and the small couch in the corner next to the fireplace, which was high enough to be able to fit a person beneath it. He guessed it could be a floo, then.
"Sir Larkoff, this is Mr. Harry Potter, and it has been revealed that he has not been receiving his mail, and not been ignoring it as we have originally thought. As his account manager, I shall leave him in your care." Ernast said and promptly left. The teenager recognised the brisk and straight-to-the-point mannerisms of the Goblin race now and wasn't put off anymore.
Larkoff saw his coworker off with something in Gobbledygook, the Goblin's native language, before turning to Harry. He couldn't really put his finger on what exactly Larkoff was thinking or feeling, but he was quite sure that it was now less disdain than it was before Ernast told Larkoff about what was going on.
"Well, this certainly comes as a surprise. It is protocol to give every witch and wizard a monthly update on their finances starting at the first of the month after turning eleven. You have never received any letters from Gringotts up to this day?" Larkoff asked.
"That is correct, Mr. Larkoff." Harry sat as straight in his chair as possible, and took a deep breath. It's fine. Everything's good. Larkoff is his account manager, and he's overheard a Ravenclaw once say something about how Goblins, who are account managers, want what's best for the account they're managing, and therefore the owner of said account.
"Then I believe it is time to have a look at your accounts' records, shall we? Before that though, protocol demands that we do a heritage test, to make sure that you actually are Harry Potter, and not someone who's posing as him." The test required him to spit into a little bowl with a liquid in it, and the liquid was then poured onto a thin stone plate, and then edged itself into neat writing. Harry bit down the urge to ask about how that worked.
Hadrian ("Harry") James Potter-Evans
Born 31 July 1980
Parents:
- James Potter (27 March 1960 - 31 October 1981)
- Lily Jane Potter-Evans née Evans (30 January 1960 – 31 October 1981)
Godparents:
- 1. Sirius Orion Black (3 November 1959 – / )
- 2. Alice Longbottom (14 February 1960 - / )
- 3. Frank Longbottom né Crane (31 December 1960 - / )
- 4. Raine Jaden Falcon (7 February 1964 - / )
Former Magical Guardian(s):
- Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore (21 August 1881 – / )
Emancipation:
Pursuant to the legislative decree dated the 31st of October, 1994, Hadrian ("Harry") James Potter-Evans is formally emancipated, as the Goblet of Fire's designation of his status as a Triwizard Champion necessitates the recognition of adult status for all participants.
Residency:
According to the most recent official records, Hadrian ("Harry") James Potter-Evans is currently without a permanent residence, and his current place of habitation remains unspecified at this time.
And damn if that wasn't a lot to unpack there.
First of all, he was not aware that his name wasn't just Harry, but apparently "Hadrian."
Secondly, he wasn't aware that he had a double name. "Potter-Evans".
Did that mean that the Dursleys lied to him? They've always called him Harry, so why wouldn't he believe that his name was Harry? And anyways, they'd never call him with a nickname, it had taken them a lot of time until they made the transition from 'boy' or 'freak' to Harry. Maybe they didn't know either?
But no, that couldn't be. They've shown him the documents stating him as their fosterchild. And the name 'Harry Potter' stood there, at the top. Maybe they actually didn't know?
And 'Potter-Evans'? Aunt Petunia's maiden name is Evans, so logically Evans must have been his mother's maiden name. He never knew that she kept it and simply got a double name after getting married to his father. But if the official stoneplate with his heritage test said that his name was Potter-Evans, then it must be true. Goblin magic was a different kind of magic than the one wixen practiced. Not many wixen have had the priviledge to learn or study about the small folk's magic, and if they did, they were usually sworn to secrecy. Which meant that it must be true.
His full name was Hadrian Potter-Evans.
Thirdly, he wasn't aware that he had more than one godparent. Apparenty, he had four. He knew that the Longbottoms couldn't possibly take care of him, with them being in St. Mungo's, and Sirius had been in Azkaban, so he was also not a possibility, but who was Raine Jaden Falcon?
Were they a friend of his parents? The plate says they're still alive, but who were they? Where were they? And why wasn't he taken to them? There must have been a reason for his parents to appoint them the position as his godparent, right? Maybe they weren't available at the time?
Then a thought struck him. They must have been in hiding. Times back then were dark and dangerous, so any smart person would have gone into hiding, especially when being in contact or as close to his parents as they might have been. And maybe they heard that he was put with the Dursleys and thought that everything was fine? There were so many questions about this person, and Harr- no. Hadrian made a mental note to try and get into contact with them.
Point number four, Dumbledore was his magical guardian. Why had he never said anything? And why had he never shown up? Especially since Hadrian had had magical accidents before he turned eleven. He was pretty sure a magical guardian was there to teach him about stuff like that. Why keep him in the dark? Why keep him ignorant, feeling like the abomination the Dursleys always insisted he was?
Hagrid had also told him back when they first met how Dumbledore had asked the half giant to fetch Hadrian- as if he's a dog fetching a toy- and to deliver him to Little Whinging.
Which meant that he was the one responsible for putting him with the Dursleys, instead of this Raine Jaden Falcon person, and wow, that was most likely the second worst thing that had happened in his back then very short life. He didn't know for sure, but he was ready to bet that Falcon would have treated him better than the Dursleys.
Point number five, he was emancipated?! Sure, it made sense, now that he thought about it, but that could actually come in very handy, ignoring the circumstances with the Death Tournament.
The ministry had literally put in place a law, stating that a Champion of the Triwizard Tournament must be an adult. Which meant that when the Goblet of Fire spat his name out, it recognised him as an adult. And the Goblet of Fire was an ancient and very powerful artifact. Dangerous and strong magic. Harr- urgh- Hadrian (he really needed to get used to calling himself by his actual name) doubted that any wix would try to defy that.
And lastly, even that stone plate acknowledged that Privet Drive #4 wasn't his home. That was both freeing and sad at the same time. Maybe fate wanted him to get the fuck away from there. He could hope.
Larkoff went over to the wall and took out a folder, giving him time to read through the data and most likely adjust to all the new information. He was pretty sure Goblins could read minds at this point, because they never once doubted him. Of course, he was always telling the truth, but still.
The folder was thick. And if he says thick, then he means it. The book about Nicolas Flamel that Hermione had given them to read through and called it 'Light Reading' actually was light reading in comparison to this folder. It was leatherbound, and at least as thick as his entire forearm.
Hadrian had a feeling he'd be there for longer than he thought he would.
Larkoff proceeded to guide him through all the data, statistics and clarified on any questions he had about certain things he simply had no clue about, partially because he was only 15 and hadn't had anything to do with finances since elementary school maths and he lacked the common knowledge that most adults apparently had about finances.
What came as another surprise was that he had multiple vaults.
The name Potter was seemingly a Noble and Ancient House, and his mother descended from a long line of powerful witches and wizards of the name Silverling, not Noble nor Ancient, but very rich nonetheless. Apparently his mother's mother was a squib, who married a muggle, and only his mother got the magical genes passed down and they skipped Petunia. Lily's grandparents on her mother's side were purebloods, according to the archives.
That meant that he had the Trust Vault his parents opened for him, the Potter Vault (which was a family vault, which, under normal cirmumstances only opened for someone at 17, but since he got emancipated he could access it now already), and the Silverling Vault, aswell as the Silverling Trust Vault and lastly a seperately opened trust vault after people started sending him gifts and donations after he 'defeated' Moldyshorts.
And his mind was absolutely blown with just how much he had inherited. Every single item was clearly written down and documented, and the list of that was the reason why the folder was so thick. And that was only the folder about everything inside the Vaults in Gringotts. Larkoff had offhandedly remarked that he had known his parents and his grandparents, and knew that there were buildings and other things in his ownership, but it would take too long to go through all of that in one day.
His Account Manager then tested out why he wasn't receiving any mail, and found something on his core magic that prevented the letters from arriving. He advised Harry to seek out a professional Healer as soon as possible to get checked out while he was at it. If something was interfearing with a being's core magic, no matter the race, then that was incredibly dangerous and shouldn't mess with the core for longer than absolutely necessary.
Larkoff then proceeded to call back every Vault Key that was not in Harry's possession, invalidated them, and forged completely new ones. He also gave Harry a stern lecture about never giving his keys to anyone, not even for safekeeping, and then gave him a weightless pouch that could hold up to 1000 galleons.
He then went with him to the Potter Trust Vault, where Harry did what he had originally came here for, withdrew 500 galleons for the foreseeable future, and then was promptly dismissed and told to come to Gringotts in person at least once every month, until the mail-issue was resolved.
Now armed with a ton of quite frankly a bit overwhelming information, he went to the Floating Cup Café in a side street of Diagon Alley and sat down to process all of that, before moving on to search for an establishment that would be willing to host him for about two months.
The Goblin's rough and gravelly voice echoed around in his head the entire time: "Mr. Potter-Evans, I believe it is crucial for you to know that the Goblin Nation believes you. We know when someone is lying, and you definitely are not. He-who-must-not-be-named is back, and dangerous times have come. We are not bound to most of the laws of the Ministry of Magic, so if you ever need assistance, contact me immediately."
That had also been why they hadn't announced his name in the entrance hall. While Goblins themselves were neutral in wizarding wars, they absolutely hated what negative influences Voldemort's last reign of terror had had on the flow of money, which basically meant that they were on his side.
And oh, how he needed to hear that. Hadrian nearly had nearly broken down right then and there. Sure, he had Ron and Hermione, and maybe even Sirius, but other than them? He'd been alone. Just like he had been at that graveyard.
Shaking himself out of it and taking a deep breath, he took a bite from his pizza-cupcake. He'd spent almost four hours with Larkoff, and the sun was setting. He wasn't sure if he'd find a hotel or an inn or something for the night in Diagon, so if push came to shove he'd just crash at one of the capsule hotels in Muggle London.
He quickly paid for the food and went over to the nearest hotel. The receptionist was really nice and didn't recognise him, and he managed to check into a single room in Hotel Phoenix, an upperclass hotel. It had pretty good security, and they accepted walk-ins if they paid for the night in advance, which he did.
Since it was already pretty late and the lady had admitted that it was nearly the end of her shift, they agreed that he'd put down his information sometime tomorrow during the day.
He quickly took a shower, before getting a snack from the 24 hour snack-shop in the lobby, and then went to sleep.
Today had been a long day, and he was absolutely exhausted.