The warming of the Dursleys' attitude toward Harry had deepened so much that Vernon and Petunia offered their green-eyed nephew to move into the guest room so he would not feel disadvantaged compared with his brother, but Harry categorically refused, explaining his choice by saying that he spent little time at home, and kept his things in a trunk with five sections, brought by the house-elf Dinky from his last visit to Diagon Alley.
With the help of his elf, Harry, without notifying any of the school professors, visited Gringotts. His doubts about whether he was truly the heir of the Potter family or of some unclear surname called Riddle, the boy decided to clarify alone. Informing only his aunt that he was leaving on matters concerning his parents, he, having put a new silk robe over his Muggle summer shorts and T-shirt, grabbed the house-elf by the handle and, a moment later, appeared in the foyer of the wizarding bank.
"I beg your pardon for my surprise, did you doubt it, Mr. Potter?" the goblin roared in fright, suddenly changing, because of the angry gaze of the boy's blazing emerald eyes, the shade of his face from greenish to blue with purple spots. "Please, wait here while I summon the attorney of your surname, clerk — his name is Kolbrukh. He will bring you all the financial reports, ledgers of the movement of your capital, and answer all your questions."
The small sharp-nosed creature, dressed all in black, resembled an oversized beetle with its thin crooked little legs as it hurriedly ran to the door. After its departure, the young wizard fell into thought:
"So, it does not matter who owns the body — the one who has been in it since birth or someone else, having driven out the original, so to speak, owner. Nor does it matter that the invader created copies of the soul and stuffed them here and there, as in my case. Well, I have already gathered and united three of my parts into myself, but I feel — this is not the end. And what was I thinking back then? What a fool you were, Thomas Marvolo Riddle, believing in the kind smile of a depraved old man!"
The boy looked at the silver dagger, with the tip of which his ring finger had been pricked so that several drops of Potter blood flowed into the crystal cup with a transparent potion. The blood changed the color of the potion, making it ink-blue. The self-writing quill, dipped into it, absorbed everything into itself and began writing all the information about the owner of the blood on clean parchment.
There was a title, but only not through the line of Godric Gryffindor, but through the line of Salazar Slytherin. Now that was a surprise, the father's family — a zealous Gryffindor — was related to the Founder whom he despised! If James Potter were alive now, he would be howling like a wolf in horror, heh. And this definitely meant that it was not because of the victory over Voldemort on that fateful Halloween night that Harry possessed Parseltongue and could speak with snakes.
There were also vaults sealed back by Harry's grandfather, which his father — the daredevil James — had not been able to open, dying before he reached the required age. These vaults could have waited, but those whose contents the young heir already had the right to use caused their owner considerable concern.
Because into one of them — the Target one — someone had been sticking their long thieving little hands.
Suddenly, the absurdity of the arrangement of things amused him, and the room in which the young wizard's heredity examination had taken place filled with ringing, pealing laughter.
"The Boy-Who-Lived, as if! — he thought, barely catching his breath — He did not live, he did not live at all, but went off on a new murderous adventure ...ahaha ...
together with his parents, and here I am, and I am the one who is called Harry Potter. I am him by blood, by heredity! Die, Dumbledore, you will not be able to do anything, this time, to interfere with me, the Wizarding World will not help you."
The entrance of the attorney — a bald goblin, even more resembling a beetle — loaded with a heavy-looking book, stopped the sudden hysteria of the boy stunned by his conclusions.
"What are you so happy about, Mr. Potter?" asked the green-skinned creature.
"About how your head will fly from your shoulders, my good Kolbrukh, when we see whom you let into my Target vault," the hero of the Wizarding World replied, and his sudden grin made the sparse hairs on the large skull of the shaken goblin stand on end.
Suddenly, the future, for the goblin who had neglected the rules of the wizarding bank and his Clan, seemed clouded with storm clouds and, most importantly — seemed frighteningly short.
Dinky's presence on Privet Drive, after the initial fright and stupid screams, turned into the happiest event for the family. The elven magic of the house-elf bound to his master created an impenetrable shield not only around the house in which Harry Potter now lived, but also around each of the relatives.
Later, the living quarters on Privet Drive sparkled with cleanliness and renewal, which the house-elf took up on his own and with passionate ardor. Petunia, inspecting the pharmacy-like order in every corner of the house, practically danced, torn apart by delight, opening and closing the doors of the pantry, freezer, and attic.
There, in the attic, a couple-three suitcases were found with charms of concealment and a key placed on them, which Harry examined with special sight and opened with a droplet of blood in the evening, before beginning the ritual of protecting the house.
They took up the protection after uncle's arrival. In the family, it had become usual not to undertake anything serious without the calming presence of the head of the family.
After dinner, the suitcases were placed one after another on the large kitchen table, and the boy opened them. Inside the first, spatial expansion charms had been placed, and in it stood rows of magical books in the volume of an extraordinary library, of both the light and dark directions of magic. Although the boy's eyes lit up in anticipation of studying this wealth, he decided to postpone acquainting himself with this well of knowledge until a later stage.
No expansion charms were observed in the second suitcase, but all its inner space was filled with banknotes — pounds, American dollars, West German marks, francs.
"Well, this is... yeaaah..." Uncle Vernon wheezed and tugged at his mustache, bending forward to better examine and estimate the amount of money in the suitcase. "And James, it seems to me, could not have been called a poor man. And all this time this wealth was in our attic, while we labored over every penny! But why were we not told about these suitcases — then we would have lived more calmly and would not have had to economize in order to survive on one salary! Pet, dear, you truly knew nothing about this?"
"No, no! What are you saying? If I had known, would I have allowed myself even once to think badly of my sister, deciding that she had thrown her son on us as a burden, without even thinking about our child?" his wife exclaimed, gasping for air, choking with indignation. The nephew's green eyes pierced into her face — she was sure that he was looking for traces of spells among the swirls of her aura. "Harry, do you think our memory was cleaned up?"
"Most likely — there was such a thing, but not in this particular case, because nothing is visible on you. I think you were not notified and you truly knew nothing. But let us open this flat little box by the wall of the suitcase."
In the box were found Harry's documents both in the magical and in the Muggle world — birth certificates, medical books with records up to the 29th of October of the year '81. In two paper envelopes were documents about the financial state of James Charlus Potter and Lilian Evans-Potter both in Gringotts and in Barclays Bank Barclays Plc. (pronounced Barclays) in London. Having read the contents of the documents and seen the listed sums, Vernon's eyes rounded, the color drained from his cheeks, and his forehead was covered with cold sweat:
"Why, Harry, you are a rich man, richer... richer... What does this word mean — ga-lle-on? Are those what — ships?"
"Nope," the boy answered him, "that is wizarding money. Last summer one golden galleon was worth 8 pounds, but pureblood wizards are real fools, goblins lead them around by the nose and stuff their purses with money." Seeing the question in his uncle's eyes, he explained, "If one needs to assess the gold in a galleon coin as metal, it will be worth 4-5 times more."
"Ha!" Vernon's mustache twitched, and he shook all over from laughter pressing from within. "Ahahahaha ..."
"Dad, something is jingling in this little pouch," Dudley interfered, shaking a small black velvet purse.
"Do not open it, it belongs to your brother, only he can safely open his things. Without his permission do not dare touch anything," his mother slapped his hand, and he let go of the purse.
Inside were found golden keys — both small and large, and some medallions. The house-elf summoned to sort this out, with tears in his huge eyes, announced to the "Great Master" that, in the end, the keys to the vaults and portkeys to the homes of the Potter family had been found, and he would be able to get into them in order to finally reunite with the other house-elves.
"How happy they will be that the Master has appeared, that he will appear at the Houses, and they, the house-elves, will have work, care, and restoration of the magic of my brothers," the devoted servant shrieked. "And after that the elven circle will bend this spawn of filth out of your forehead, Master Harry Potter, sir."
The Master in question only blinked, bulging his eyes and holding his breath, looking at his servant.
Filth in the scar? But, surely! .....
The next day, immediately after Dinky's midnight visit, Harry Potter visited the wizarding bank Gringotts alone, incognito for all outsiders.
After his departure, the number of clerks working there decreased by one. The clan of goblins servicing the money circulation of the entire Wizarding World could not allow a traitor to have wormed his way among the bank employees who steadfastly defended the clauses of the agreement with the Ministry of Magic.
Betrayal was punished only by death.
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