He'd learned his lesson and had taken multiple calming draughts before leaving the dorm early Saturday morning, and downed one more for good measure before turning into the second-floor corridor, making his way to the gargoyle in question. There were hundreds if not thousands around Hogwarts but going by Draco's instructions, "the" gargoyle was probably the largest and most impressive one in this hallway. He'd gotten dressed and put himself together with almost clinical coldness this morning, and with the calming draughts he was as prepared as he was going to get.
Today was no place for emotions. He had to get this done, he had to obtain an insane amount of information in only a couple hours, and he could not back down or chicken out like last time when he'd read his parents will. He was going to be surrounded by Slytherins who would think nothing of a blank face and calculated questions.
Well, Draco would, but more importantly he'd understand why Harry was acting this way. Maybe he'd even cover for him.
He was only half surprised to see Snape standing with Draco, and he didn't even bother trying to hear what they were talking about, nor see the sneer he got from the potions master as he got within range. He didn't have time for it today.
"Lemon drop." Snape told the Gargoyle who jumped aside, and he followed Draco's lead up the moving staircase.
The office they entered was… actually insanely impressive. Round and refined in its decoration, coated in books, crazy looking magical contraptions, and paintings that all seemed to be asleep.
"This is the headmaster's office. Touch nothing and speak softly—don't wake the paintings. You must be back in three hours so the Headmaster will not know you were gone." Snape commanded in a near-silent hiss, almost to the point Harry wondered if he was hearing parseltongue instead, but as he was saying it mostly to Draco and the blond nodded dutifully, he figured not.
They were ushered quickly to the fireplace, where Harry immediately realized what was happening. He'd only used the floo network once before to get to Hogwarts but he didn't actually know where they were going. He did know that pronunciation was absolutely critical though, and the thought of accidentally somehow getting separated from Draco at this moment set a cold chill over his shoulders despite the calming draughts. One panicked glance at Draco was all the blond needed though, to grab him by the arm and hold on tightly as he took a pinch from the jar Snape offered him and tossed it in.
"Malfoy Manor!" he hissed, and dragged them both into the fire without another word.
Harry did not like the floo network much. It was a whirlwind and not in a fun way riding a broom was, but simply just dizzying and he got a huge amount of soot up his nose. Thankfully his contacts being fire-resistant also seemed to include ash and dust-resistance so he could see almost unnaturally clearly, but that only meant he could see the spinning, dizzying colors in such a sharp contrast it made him sick. He squeeze his eyes shut and clung to Draco for dear life as they spun—and then suddenly it was over and it was only Draco's hands on his arms holding him upright that prevented him from taking a spinning fall onto the glassy marble surface below them.
He coughed from the soot and Draco stood up sharply, Harry copying him immediately as he realized where they had to be.
Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy had on travel cloaks and stood at attention while the two boys appeared in front of them, clearly prepared. He hadn't asked but Harry had assumed they'd be coming too… Draco was inherently not quite as independent as he was, being an orphan with horrible guardians after all, so it wouldn't be weird if a twelve-year-old's parents didn't let him go into town to meet with bank officials alone. Even if it wasn't Draco's business exactly, he was just accompanying a friend for it, it wasn't… unusual. Logically Harry knew that and had expected it even if it still felt very weird for him to have adults he didn't know that well following him for what he thought was probably going to be a personal conversation with Axeclaw. It wasn't a shock though, even if it was blatantly uncomfortable. He could deal with it, probably.
What he had a harder time with though… was that by Draco's explanation of the plan he'd kind of thought Mr. Malfoy was the one arranging it and had had half a shred of hope Mrs. Malfoy would take after her son and prefer to sleep in rather than accompany them to the bank at the early hour. No need for both of them to come, right?
It was really a rather stupid hope to have though, in hindsight.
"Good morning dear. Harry." Mrs. Malfoy nodded politely in greeting to them, and Harry felt obligated to nod back with a low 'good morning' of his own. Draco seemed to relax a fraction though and greeted them a bit more warmly.
Right… they were his parents who he trusted and loved.
He was comfortable.
Harry was the one who felt like his clothes were made of something slimy and gross for how stiffly he knew he was standing.
"How much time do we have?" Mr. Malfoy got down to business without hesitation.
"Three hours."
"Let's not dawdle then."
"I did it last time since we didn't really have time for you to mess it up, but you could do it yourself if you'd like. It's just Gringotts, but pronunciation is everything, or you could end up in the wrong place." Draco turned to him and lifted a fancy looking jar off the mantle to offer him, but Harry just shook his head tightly and leaned closer.
"I think I'll leave it to you for now." Now was not the time to get lost and while he didn't know if going by floo was physically worse or better as a side-along rider, mentally it was definitely preferrable.
Harry was thankful that Draco didn't even hesitate or pause to give his admission of weakness any more attention or importance than necessary as he took a pinch and tossed it into the fire. Harry just hung onto his arm closely as they spun once more into the fire.
And suddenly they were in Gringotts, Harry coughing a bit as Draco dusted both of them off, flourishes of flame behind them announcing the arrival of the Malfoy elders too.
"Mr. Potter." A familiar voice interrupted his coughing and he perked up, relief at seeing someone he felt was an ally instantly making the fact Mrs. Malfoy was walking up behind them slightly better.
"Axeclaw!"
The goblin nodded curtly to him with what was probably a scowl, or the goblin-greeting-scowl equivalent, clearly having been expecting his arrival since he too was positioned as if waiting in front of the fireplace in the lobby. "Mr. Malfoy requested a blood test to be arranged on your behalf, but I would need your confirmation this is true. Under oath, to ensure no… tampering." He got down to business.
Harry, now that he was well aware of the concerns of things like confounding charms and the thrice damned Imperius curse, had seen that coming.
"Sure."
"Follow me then." He turned on his small heel and walked away, not questioning the presence of the Malfoy family who followed suit. Harry was sure if he asked to go alone then Axeclaw would side with him but… he didn't. While he wanted nothing more than to have this conversation alone, he equally didn't want Draco to leave his side and there was no non-awkward or offensive way to tell his parents to get lost while keeping his friend close. Given Draco's general attitude towards goblins in the first place, there was a solid chance one or both of the Malfoy elders might not even let him leave their sight to be alone with a goblin in the first place, Harry being there or not.
He resigned himself to this extremely awkward meeting. By the letter hidden in his robe pocket, he'd already kind of prepared what he was going to do in any case, might as well grit his teeth and just do it.
Axeclaw lead them down several of Gringotts's truly impressive hallways, past the office they usually met in and to another room that looked very similar, but lacked most of the traditional office furniture and all the bookshelves the goblin had in his actual office. There was only one chair and a large circular table with a huge sheet of paper laid out on it, golden runes etched into the dark wood edges. Axeclaw simply snapped his gnarled fingers and three more chairs appeared— Harry knew about goblin magic but had never seen it, and as cool as that was he was too preoccupied to even care right then.
"Depending on how far back you would like to search your family tree, this process should take a relatively short amount of time. The more detail and branches you'd like to research the longer, of course. There is a fee of 317 galleons."
That's actually pretty damn expensive, Harry realized, but it made sense. If everyone could just do this then he was sure there'd be a lot of blood-purity conflict cleared up immediately. There was probably status in having the galleons to drop on knowing your bloodline in the first place, hence why people like the Malfoys took such pleasure in flaunting it.
In any case, money was not on his list of concerns right then, not about this. In fact it didn't even rank.
"That's fine." He agreed easily. "I can't tell exactly how long it'll take to find what we're looking for."
Axeclaw didn't even ask, which he appreciated. "Very well. You must agree to the blood test the same way you agreed to inherit the Monroe name."
He saw Mr. Malfoy turn to look at him, and could almost feel the raised eyebrow he was getting, but ignored it. The question triggered several different concerns about this process he hadn't realized he should be worried about that were frankly higher in priority then what Draco's parents thought about him or his family names.
"Is it the same ritual? Or similar."
"No."
"Is it going to hurt the same amount?"
"No, I am told this is less painful to humans." The implied weakness of mankind was clear, but Harry was willing to take that hit. It was probably true in any case, he wasn't too proud to admit goblins were likely way tougher if these rituals of theirs were common and easy for them—inheriting the Monroe name had in no way been pleasant or easy for him and he wasn't going to lie and say otherwise. There was just no point to it.
"Is it going to cripple me for any amount of time? Considering I am human, twelve, and have a magical block on for medical reasons right now." He reminded his account manager who he had a suspicion did not care if he was five or ninety-five. Which he often liked, but even Harry was well aware of his limits and how potential human limits was not even a thought in the average goblin's mind, much less a consideration when doing business.
True to his suspicions, Axeclaw placed one slightly unnaturally long finger on chin as if that had not occurred to him before. "The procedure only requires a sample of your magic that is quite small, so a block should have no impact. I could not say how your age would be an influence although infants have had this ritual done in the past in cases of urgent identification, with no ill effects so far as I'm aware. I also could not say what threshold would cripple you, but I suppose there is a potion that would cure you of the effects of the ritual. It can be provided for a fee. Two galleons I believe, but I will verify."
If there was a potion to cure me of the effects of the inheritance ritual and they just didn't tell me about it, I'm going to be pissed.
He kept those dark thoughts to himself though—it wasn't like he could change it now. He gave up with a sigh.
"I would like that, please. And in that case: I would like to request a blood test."
"Very well. You agree to the ritual?"
"Yes."
"Then please take a seat, I will collect the materials prepared for it." He left shortly and Harry reluctantly slid into one of the chairs, with Draco and his parents wordlessly following suit.
"What's with the questions?" Draco immediately asked as soon as the door closed behind Axeclaw, glancing around the room curiously and noticeably less tense then Harry himself was.
He patted his friend on the arm tensely. "Draco seriously, never agree to a goblin ritual without questions."
"Uh… right."
"Listen to him, Draco." Narcissa chimed in sagely from slightly off to their side and by Draco's dismayed expression he seemed to realize how serious the threat was. He turned back around with a critical look in his eye.
"Harry what exactly did that inheritance ritual entail?"
"I'm not telling you that, you'll get mad at me."
"It was before I ever met you!" Which was not technically true but Harry didn't bother correcting him.
"That wouldn't stop you." He huffed.
"I knew you had taken on the avenged line, Mr. Potter, but wasn't aware it was official." Lucius now spoke up, and Harry was abruptly aware that this was like… small talk with his best friend's parents. He'd already talked plenty with Mrs. Malfoy and had seriously regretted it, so it set him right on edge. Of all the things he'd been planning for today, small talk had not been in his contingencies.
The worse part about small talk though was that you couldn't exactly avoid it, and given Draco was just looking inherently curious right now, he felt even more trapped and obligated to engage. Ugh.
"I… did agree when Axeclaw asked me about it without asking any questions first. Lesson learned." He admitted, looking mostly at Draco for his answer, who seemed genuinely interested. "I don't regret it though."
"Do you know anything about the Monroe family?" Draco turned with that earnest curiosity to his father—and Harry immediately panicked that it was too much information to spill but…
But it was clear Draco's default was to ask his parents when he didn't understand or wanted to know, and they were right there so why wouldn't he? He had no expectation that they wouldn't know or wouldn't answer him. He trusted them.
Draco was… very comfortable, sitting there between his best friend and his parents who he loved, so of course he had no reason to hold back or hesitate. If he could read the room he might have picked up on Harry's tension better, but… ah, that was not meant to be when the spoiled boy was sitting there easily between the people who'd done the spoiling.
He took a deep breath and tried to think logically about it—he couldn't fault Draco of course although he'd be bringing this up later, but logically… this was actually a good way of getting info. If Mr. Malfoy knew something and was just answering his son, he wouldn't actually know what Harry was gleaning from the information, which would keep his privacy some. And Harry had to assume, given they were full grown Slytherins, that they didn't fully realize Draco was asking out of his own curiosity and not because Harry wanted him to—he was sure his expression made it abundantly clear that he would prefer Draco stop talking.
Whether Mr. Malfoy noted that or not, he gave nothing away as he answered.
"They were Ancient and Noble, of course. I never met any of them before they died out but it's said they had a good commerce base and plenty of researchers in their line. They were quite small most of their history, tended to marry pureblood when they did marry but had a bit of a reputation for being single or childless on the most part which probably didn't help their chances of survival." Harry actually appreciated how clinically he was talking, as if only imparting information to Draco as if this wasn't pertinent to Harry's history (adopted as it may be). He actually preferred it this way though. "I wouldn't call them light or dark; they were probably better described at dark grey but in reality they cared very little for any sort of politics or even other families. Even their own family actually, as they were mostly individuals rather than a clan. They traveled a great deal, so while Britain was their base of operations they had very little actual investment here so never made much impact one way or another. What investments they did make were not very profitable, I don't think it brought them much success in general."
He sniffed a bit in distain, and Harry liked that he was expectedly more oriented around their alignment and their wealth then anything else. It was no surprise coming from the Malfoy patriarch and actually he hadn't know any of that before, so that was… good. Not personal by any means, but solid information on the Monroe history.
"And you like them then?" Draco asked him just as genuinely curious.
Hesitant as he was to speak, speaking up in defense of his adopted ancestors was suddenly not hard at all.
"Absolutely. I have no connection to the Potter name as I can't get into their vault until I'm of age to learn a damn thing about them, but I have been to the Monroe vault. I mean it's nice to hear people who knew them talk about my parents, but it doesn't really mean anything to me as it's all just their takes on who they were when they were kids—not like they actually lived long enough to be my actual parents. It's not like what the Monroe name means to me now that I could physically hold parts of their history, read their journals and such. Feels like I know them more if that makes sense."
"I guess?" But Draco, who from the day he was born had an ingrained sense of inherent pride in his family name and blood status and could still not imagine a world without his parents, very clearly did not understand.
And that was okay—Harry surprised himself by being legitimately happy Draco couldn't understand something like this instead of pettily jealous or something more expected of himself. He patted his friend's arm a bit tensely again.
"You've been to their vault though, that's good."
"Yeah. It's way more valuable in the kind of history that's in there then anything else though."
"As is the case of most Ancient and Noble houses." Mrs. Malfoy chimed in smoothly, catching her son's attention.
"How so?"
Whether she was actually going to answer that or not, Harry didn't know as the door opened again and Axeclaw returned pushing a small goblin-sized cart with several items laid out on it. With a sinking in his chest he did note the large silver dagger on a delicate silk cloth—he was starting to realize everything goblin-magic related required blood which was… well.
He was starting to really not like bleeding. Actually, he was more unnerved by how used to bleeding he was becoming.
"The process is simple: I will need a dose of your blood and the runes of this table will automatically sample your magic as well. The blood will act as ink and fill out this enchanted parchment with your family tree; we will keep it here in your vault for safe keeping and will be provided a copy free of charge. Any additional copies requires a fee, to be determined based on the size of the tree you wish to create today." The goblin explained as he went about his work, placing a fine silver bowl the size of a teacup with fluted edges on the edge of the table to the size of the parchment, taking a piece of what seemed to be charcoal and marking a haphazard 'x' in front of where Harry was sitting, and waving his hands in a complicated pattern that immediately made the paper flutter a bit as if a breeze had rushed by in the otherwise still room.
He then lifted the knife and either Draco hadn't noticed it before or just hadn't realized what it was for as he tensed up. Harry just patted him on the arm with a silent sigh as he stood and went over to the bowl that Axeclaw was referencing.
"It will need to be enough blood to fill this vessel and the mark will scar. It does not matter where I take it from." He declared and Harry scowled for a second considering yet another scar.
At this point I need to just get over it.
His not-so-invisible cloak often fell over his hands these days, and he wasn't sure if that was something his subconscious was doing since the magical fabric seemed to just know what he wanted it to do most of the time. Either way it meant his now very-scarred hands were not always on display… and at this point it didn't matter if there was another one in amongst all the much larger and more gruesome gashes he'd already collected there. His hands were just screwed at this point, he supposed.
Wordlessly he pushed up his sleeve and held out his non-dominant hand, palm up.
Axeclaw stared.
"… that is very poorly done house elf magic healing, is it not?"
Harry tensed up, not having expected the goblin to just know on sight what had happened to his hands, but he supposed that was pretty stupid.
He could almost feel the elder Malfoys' eyes drilling into his back, and the hairs on his neck stood straight up.
"It's fine." He got out bluntly, if not breathlessly, less for Axeclaw's sake and more for Dobby's honestly. "I don't care about it at all, and kind of just want to get this done for today."
He met the goblin's eyes and despite having no idea how to read his snarl expression, he knew he'd get the message of just move on for now. If he wanted to say something on it, he could do it later.
With less of an audience at that.
Axeclaw unfortunately moved on wordlessly by taking his hands and slicing into it without hesitation.
It stung to an unbelievable level that quickly turned into something like fire racing up his wrist as the blade cut much deeper into his skin of his palm then he was expecting it to, and Harry forced himself not grind his teeth together but instead take deep breathes and try to center himself. Yeah it hurt but it wouldn't soon, so he just dealt with it by clenching his other fist so tightly he felt his fingernails pinch into his skin there sharply.
His cut palm was immediately just a pool of bright blood, and Axeclaw guided his arm to be over the cup, tilting so the free-flooding wound began to pour like a kettle filling a teacup with the world's most gory drink.
My hair really is the color of blood. He noted absently, fixating on the color to be able to keep his composure despite the pain and finding it simply fascinating on some morbid level. Or maybe it was the blood loss because despite it being a teacup-sized vessel, it was still bigger than the average china set and when it was about halfway full he felt the odd coldness and slight dizziness he now knew meant the start of blood loss.
Not a good day to realize he recognized those symptoms.
In what was probably only a minute but really felt much longer when you were watching an open wound that was magically not clotting somehow drain your life away, but eventually the cup filled until it was only a couple millimeters from the top—and the runes around the table glowed.
Harry was not prepared to have a piece of his magic sampled, but he felt it when it cleaved down and snatched a chunk from him. There was no way to described the pull, as magic wasn't real it was just… a part of him. Like his soul being yanked at sharply, he almost didn't feel the tiny piece that got taken but he did feel this force he couldn't quite name jolt inside and outside and around him and then settle back into place and it left him positively nauseous. Like an instantaneous dose of the world's worst car sickness that only lasted a split second before disappearing, but left you with this echo of awful sick in your throat and a constricting pounding feeling in the front of his skull. Like both his stomach and his brain were now both in his sinuses and he was about to spew them if he didn't take some deep breathes and close his eyes against the harsh light of the slightly-spinning room.
He felt the pain in his hand suddenly disappear and blinked his eyes back open to see not only the cut on his hand suddenly gone, but all the blood cleared apart from what had made it into the now-full cup. He had to blink a couple times as he pulled his hand back close to him, rubbing his palm distractedly as the black dots cleared from around the corners of his eyes.
He felt cold, and nauseous, and abruptly more tired then tense.
But it was very manageable, and in a couple seconds he'd gathered himself to turn around and find his seat again—a very pale looking Draco not watching the table at all but watching him intently, hands hovering like he wanted to do something despite that being rather useless.
"You alright?"
"I'm fine."
"You're pale as a sheet."
"I'm missing a chunk of blood Draco, that's normal I'm pretty sure."
"You-!" Harry was sure whatever scolding he was about to get would be both severe and worthless considering the situation so he grabbed Draco's hand to shut him up as he turned back to the table where everyone else was clearly looking.
And was both mildly startled and impressed by the writing that seemed to be coming to life as if written by a ghost. The base of the newly forming tree was his name, which had appeared directly under the small 'x' Axeclaw had drawn, and then the names began to branch upwards.
Harry James Potter Monroe
Lily Jade Potter, nee Evans --- James Henry Potter
Mary Olive Evans, nee Conrad --- Robert Leo Evans Euphemia Zion Potter, nee Black --- Fleamont Arcturus Potter
The names began to sprawl out across the paper as if written by invisible hands, not necessarily fast but quick enough that he could only just barely read the full name as it appeared before the next name was halfway done appearing. As the two sides of the tree quickly began to branch out and several names began appearing at once, he was forced to give up and just take it all in as it appeared. It was his tree though, when he got his copy he could pour over it all he wanted later.
Today, they were looking for something.
What exactly it was… he belatedly realized maybe it was a good thing Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy were here because he didn't even know if Voldemort had a last name much less what it was, and barring something like "Slytherin" appearing, how was he supposed to know the name they were looking for when he saw it? And it couldn't be that easy, Voldemort came to power by his claim he was the only Slytherin descendant, so if anyone had proof to counter they would've. And the Potter family having a "Slytherin" in the family tree would've been huge, at least at one point in history that someone like the Blacks or Malfoys never would've just forgotten. Harry could not believe no one in the entire Potter history hadn't noticed—or maybe that's what Draco had suspected and they did have a connection, just hid it or… something.
After all, his grandmother Euphemia was apparently a prominent Black by this tree and she'd married a Potter, which going by Daphne's lessons was one of those things pureblood families flat out ignored, as it was still "acceptable" by blood purity standards but the conflict between the two family alignments (one being extremely dark and the other extremely light) meant it was not as perfect as it should've been on paper. Some other black sheep somewhere who married someone no one mentioned, someone else who had some kind of connection…
He didn't know what he was looking for so it was more a relief and less an invasion of privacy when he saw Mr. Malfoy clearly examining the names himself. Still weird but also a comfort in some ways. It was also kind of a relief that he did not seemed shocked about any of it, though that might be a mask.
It was a bit belatedly as the names continued to branch at a slightly slower pace now, that he realized not all names were the same. Or, they weren't being written in the same ink: some were so heavy handed they were almost too bold to properly read, others were so faded he could just barely make out what it was trying to say. His own name and several close by him were in clear pitch black, while most of the tree now that it was becoming more of a tree in fact, was written in dozens of different colors. Not only that, but each name had this little halo of color around it as if it were glowing, and the shimmering in it made him think if they turned the lights off, they really would start shining.
His father's side was… frankly, huge. Actually it was most of the tree now that it actually looked like a tree, but his mother's side was… way more linear. Which wasn't so surprising as the whole pureblood thing meant families in history were definitely intermarrying and creating thick bushes of branches instead of linear lines, but he found it hard to believe his entire maternal line had consisted of only children for what looked to be centuries.
In fact… he knew it was wrong or at least edited, because Petunia and Lily had been sisters. There were two faint lines coming off Mary and Robert Evans' connected names, one of which lead to Lily Potter, nee Evans, and the other… which faded as if it'd run out of ink until there was a ghost of a name there but even him knowing it probably read 'Petunia', he still couldn't read it.
"Is this sufficient or would you like to go back farther? We would need another dose of blood to continue." Axeclaw broke into his thoughts, and one glance at Mr. Malfoy who said nothing, he just nodded. He didn't recognize most of these names anyway, and nothing gave away any clue as to who he could've inherited parseltongue from.
He scanned… seeing things he did recognize and had questions about, but nothing that meant anything about snakes.
"Let's go back farther," He agreed, holding out his hand again and wincing as he blade cut into his skin one more time.
It took much longer to gather himself this time, and despite the cut being instantly healed, Draco's cold skin holding his hand tightly as he sat back down on slightly shaky knees was actually a huge relief. The ink didn't wait for him this time, it simply took the new blood to revitalize the momentum it had so by the time he could breath normally without the fear he was about to puke on his own family tree and refocus on the paper in front of him, dozens of new names had appeared and he struggled to take them all in.
"Why are some faded? And the colors…?" He managed to get out in the silence while they waited for the names to keep coming, and Axeclaw just tapped the desk unhurriedly.
"A blood test of this nature is to gauge whose blood you have inherited. Just because you are a descendant of some does not mean you are born with that blood strongly within you; this blood test will likely look nothing like that of your parents had they taken one, nor your children should you have them." He explained.
It was a genetic chance, is what he was saying. Harry didn't know much about it, even the muggle genetics part of it, though he'd heard of it before, but knew there was a science behind why brown-eyed parents didn't have blue-eyed children, or how a grandchild could have some feature neither their parents did just because their great grandmother did once. Or something like that—seemed like muggle science nailed that one just as well as magic could.
"This shows whose blood you have inherited strongly, and those you have a distant relation to, but not as strongly. Those written in more concrete ink are strong ties while those who are greatly faded are quite distant, barely traces in your blood but still there. If they are not present, you've inherited none of their blood."
"And the colors?"
"Magic, versus physical blood." Harry was a bit surprised at that… but as he gazed out at the complex web in front of him, a lot of the names on his father's side were a rainbow of colors, while his mother's had approximately zero colors aside from Lily Potter herself. So, that held up at least. "Black is physical blood, actual genetics as muggles put it. Any color is a certain vein of magic, although you'll find most purebloods are a cacophony of many types of mixed magics, so it means less." He explained uncaringly.
His father's name was pitch black, with a glowing hue of many subtle colors Harry could pick out, though red was definitely the most defined. The red-cast rainbow could be traced throughout many of the Potter names listed above him, which was pretty cool to watch…
His mother's name was pitch black too, with a cast of lighter bluish-green, but all the names above her were solid, nearly bolded black.
"So since my mother's ancestors were all muggle, they had no magic for me to inherit and no colors."
"Correct." Axeclaw tilted his head as he examined the part of the tree Harry himself was looking at. "Given by this, you have inherited that familial line far more intensely than your paternal side."
He did NOT like the implication he was more heavily related to the Dursleys then he was to his father's parents… but was quickly soothed by the reminder that faded names meant he actually had none of their blood, magic or otherwise. He couldn't see Petunia's name even though he knew it should be there, which meant… in the eyes of magic and whatever blood he had in his veins, he wasn't actually related to her. Not technically at least.
Which you know, best news he'd heard all year.
What was still a bit unsettling about his mother's line though, was the linear pattern he'd noted before. Most siblings, if ever there were ones, were faded lines instead of names if even he could see those faint lines at all. There was thick bold ink over his and Lily Potter's name, then his grandmother Mary who married a Robert whose name was… well it was clearly there, but it was incredibly light, and in fact the little "t" on the end was almost illegible. Mary's mother, Diana Kelly Rockworth, also had a thick line but her husband Richard was also so light and half faded that Harry wouldn't have known his last name if Grandmother Mary weren't a Conrad. The thick bolded writing followed a very blatant line for Diana's mother, and her father, and his mother, and her mother, and her father and… and so on.
Everyone else outside of the line pretty much just wasn't there for how translucent they were, and as they passed two centuries back, Harry stopped being able to see the spouses marrying into the line at all, like they didn't even matter.
He was caught up in this weirdo event and wondering if this is what most muggle lines looked like, that he snapped his head to the side a little too hard when Axeclaw spoke again, breaking him out of his thoughts as he pointed out another section of the tree. A section Harry belated realized wasn't actually connected to the main tree at all.
"As it relates to you inheriting the Monroe line, this is where that can be seen." He motioned to the right area and Harry lit up to see the branching names of many, many Monroes in their whole other tree. Looking carefully he could see some places it touched his own main tree, which wasn't shocking if they'd been purebloods, so that was cool.
Even cooler was that they were all basked in a glowing, orangey-amber-gold like hue, and despite their names being written in flat red meaning he shared not one drop of physical blood with them, his own name was nearly eclipsed with the same exact color. He thought he was getting that from the Potter's red but it was clearly more Monroe than anything, and honestly… that made him extremely happy. He got a full dose of their magic, and as a wizard that was far more important to him.
He immediately tried finding Dell's name, but nothing jumped out at him. She was alive around the 1600s so she should've been coming up… he just didn't spot her. He did however see a William Sayre which… rang a bell somehow.
How do I know that name?
He scratched his brain trying to recall, but nothing came to mind. He definitely knew that name though just… where had he…?
He was looking down trying to remember, back towards the base of the tree by his own name, and was suddenly very distracted by two names written underneath the tree itself, not outwardly connected it seemed but written in solid ink. And they definitely had not been there initially, he just wasn't sure when they had appeared.
He was so taken off guard he barely heard Axeclaw ask if he wanted to continue. He wasn't sure how long they should keep going until they knew with more confidence they wouldn't find answers here, but… maybe one more time wouldn't hurt.
Immediately after it though he decided this was the last one because he didn't even bother looking at the names, he let Mr. Malfoy take over, just slumping into his seat and leaning his head onto Draco's shoulder until his vision came back into view. By the time he was sure he wasn't going to throw up and Draco had practically worried a hole in his hand from rubbing soothing circles over his palm with his thumb, the tree had nearly doubled in size. He highly doubted he was going to remain conscious if he did it one more time, to be fair, and information be damned he wasn't a masochist, thank you.
He was so out of it he didn't immediately react when someone inhaled sharply and Draco was suddenly pulling at his sleeve to force him to sit up more.
"Harry. You alright?" Clearly that wasn't the first time he'd said his name, and so Harry made an effort to sit up a bit more.
"What? Sorry I…" He shook his head slightly as if that could shake focus into him. "What is it?"
"I believe we found it." Mr. Malfoy intoned lowly, giving nothing away, but needing to stand up to lean over the table far enough to point at what he'd found. Harry, being nearly half his height, got up on shaky legs and walked around the table with Draco close on his heels to see what it was…
Liliana Slytherin
Only… it was at the very top of the incredibly linear muggle line that ended with Lily Potter, nee Evans of all people.
Uh… what? Is this stupid ritual making me hallucinate?
Even more so, because this Liliana Slytherin was written in pitch black, bolded ink, and not a drop of color anywhere to be seen.
Her father though…
Her father's name gleamed a very stark, pure blueish-green to highlight his magical signature. And it was much thicker and more potent, but it was identical to the color haloed around Lily Potter's name.
I mean… it follows the rules I guess but that means I am both blood and magic related to Salazar Slytherin. No, actually, his name is written in blue, which means I'm not blood related to him, just magic. Which frankly makes no sense but… I mean I didn't need the Malfoys here, even I could've spotted that if I weren't punch drunk right now…
Looking closer because really that was all he could do at this moment, he noticed there were several faint lines coming from Salazar Slytherin's name—he couldn't read any of them but Liliana, and he couldn't even read who he'd married, or at least who Liliana's mother was. The lines implied he'd had three children, though right now he only knew about this Liliana… who had no magic despite being the daughter of one of the most famous wizards in the world, and her children and her children's children had all be firmly muggle… right up until Lily Evans.
Maybe it was the ritual spells, but Harry felt like throwing up and laying down in equal measure.
"It seems Salazar Slytherin had three children, of which was always known. It was believed his youngest daughter to be infertile though, as she never bore a child. That is, as of this moment, disproven." Axeclaw observed to no one, probably for Harry's benefit mostly as it was obvious that was what they'd come to learn. Harry was also kind of annoyed by how unperturbed he was, although in hindsight there was no reason for a goblin to be concerned over the bloodlines of wizards, even if they were related to old famous wizards—humans were humans and goblins didn't particularly care about humans as a rule.
"Most likely because she was a squib apparently. She was probably cast out or kept her family name hidden at the very least, and if her entire line has been non-magical until Evans…" Mr. Malfoy said aloud as if he himself were putting things together, and either he was being generous or he too was rather shocked, to the point he forgot to watch what he was saying.
A thought hit him and Harry too blurted it out before considering if this was the right audience to ask it to.
"Does that mean my mother was a Parselmouth?"
There was a pause and Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy exchanged a very pointed look.
"…if she was, we never knew about it. Given our previous reputation, that would not be an unwise move on her part to hide it." Lucius admitted, and he seemed truthful surprisingly.
"Is this what you were intending to unearth?" That's right, Axeclaw didn't know what they'd been looking for, but he clearly knew now by his slightly waspish tone.
"Yes. I uh… it's complicated." He wavered slightly, but the goblin didn't even blink.
"Very well." He brushed it off, slipping the dagger back into its silk cloth and removing the bowl from the table as the writing finally came to a stop and it ran dry of it's gruesome ink to use. "Is that it for your blood test or is there something else you'd like to search?"
No, Harry had a whole list of questions. Probably more then just Axeclaw could answer to be fair, but… his eyes dropped back to the two names at the base of the tree, and maybe he was just tired or loopy from the spells but... he couldn't help himself.
"My… ah, godfathers?" He pointed, and everyone now turned to the two names written below his own, not touching his tree, but just as close as his parents.
Sirius Black
Remus Lupin
He'd known about Sirius but…
"How are they… I mean I'm not related to them by blood?"
"I believe you're related to Sirius Black in here somewhere—it's a rare pureblood who isn't somehow distantly related to the Black family tree." Axeclaw answered without issue, tossing a casual glance at the spider web of names in front of them but didn't look very hard. "They would be there out of magical inheritance more than anything. Note their names are actually navy I believe—it's a traditional color for godparents."
Not related by blood… and magical inheritance counted towards a magical blood test? Maybe I don't understand inheritance as much as I thought I did.
"Godfathers?" Draco repeated out loud, audibly bewildered. "Sirius Black is your godfather?"
Harry froze… but forcefully tilted his head slightly so it didn't look like he was frozen in shock or anything. He saw Mrs. Malfoy take a step forward and place her hands over her son's shoulders pointedly, and he looked up at her in confusion.
That's right… he hadn't told Draco about Sirius.
By his tone he clearly recognized the name—if he was Mrs. Malfoy's cousin he had to. Draco would be getting the majority of the Black inheritance someday after all because of Sirius being disowned/incarcerated, there was no way he didn't know the guy.
But he… Harry hadn't given away that he knew he'd had godfathers. Or godfather as Remus Lupin being his godfather was absolutely brand new news to him, but he'd known since last year about Sirius Black… and he'd fully intended on asking Draco, maybe even asking him to ask his parents…
But that was before. He'd procrastinated all last year: he'd fully meant to bring it up to Draco but he… hadn't, because he didn't really want to face it. And then suddenly it was the end of the year and he'd missed his chance to have Draco ask his parents over Christmas or Easter.
And then very understandably it'd slipped his mind to ask Draco to ask his parents about it over the summer break, because he had only just managed to survive the end of term otherwise.
And then suddenly a casual interest in who his godfather was had been blown out of the water into something closer to a dire need, if it meant Sirius Black could get him out of Private Drive. By then Harry had a healthy distrust of one Narcissa Black and asking Draco hadn't even crossed his mind—he'd gone to Daphne instead.
He himself hadn't wanted to think about it, so he hadn't exactly told Draco about… this.
So… yeah, this was awkward.
He made a snap decision, and played dumb.
"Who is he? What happened to him?" He directed his questions at Axeclaw, very impressed with himself by how believable that sounded. Then again he really was feeling ill right then so sounding so desperate wasn't that hard.
Axeclaw met his gaze at the question, and obviously knew he was lying. He'd already asked that a year ago and Axeclaw had already well explained it, but frankly the account manager didn't care and it wasn't like you could read a goblin's snarling expression to notice any hesitation or surprise either.
Surprisingly though, he only opened his mouth to answer before he was cut off.
"Sirius Black and Remus Lupin were friends of your father." Mrs. Malfoy was actually the one to respond, and Harry was forced to turn to look at her and prayed to whatever deity was listening that she bought his blank expression for what it was and couldn't tell he was lying. "Sirius… your godfather, is my cousin actually. I was a Black myself before my marriage."
"Why… if they're my godparents, where are they?"
The Malfoy parents exchanged looks once more, and Harry really hoped that meant they were buying this.
"I might explain the absence of a Mr. Lupin." Axeclaw chimed in, his tone positively professional but the helpfulness implying he was not thrilled about being cut off and wanted his stage back. "He was very vehement in finding you and taking you after your parents' deaths, however creatures such as him are forbidden from adopting children. I was present for the court hearing he managed to get and it was not pretty—many look down on creatures such as him and he was essentially laughed out of the Ministry for his attempt."
"Creatures?" Draco chimed in curiously, and Harry was facing Axeclaw so they didn't see his expression, but he knew, and he knew Axeclaw knew that he knew, exactly what he was about to say.
"He is a werewolf." The goblin announced blankly.
"Really!?" Draco reaction was… more nervous than anything. He was clearly taken aback and not happy about that news, but one glance at Harry for his own reaction and he seemed to seal his jaw shut and pretend to be blank faced again.
Harry knew him better then that though. He didn't much like that news.
Most of last year Draco had acted as if he was censoring himself, and Harry knew it was because he was trying to un-learn a lifetime of dark alignment and not saying things like 'mudblood' or the like around him. They'd since moved passed that and it had honestly meant a lot.
It was not great that Draco seemed pre-disposed to be prejudiced against a potential godfather of his but… he was censoring himself on his own so… progress?
Best tactic though was to keep playing dumb. Because he wanted to hear Draco's parents' reactions too—and if they'd spent his whole childhood spitting anti-werewolf rhetoric, like Harry had a feeling they had, then… well, Harry had to at least know what he was up against here.
"That's a bad thing?" He feigned obliviousness, though thanks to Daphne he was already well aware what the wizarding world thought about werewolves. What he was really after was the two people behind him thought, so he "innocently" turned from Axeclaw, to Draco who almost didn't even meet his eyes, and then back at Mrs. Malfoy in particular.
They'd had tea together after all. Why wouldn't she answer his innocent question?
Despite whatever else she might've been thinking, her smile seemed to be complimenting him somehow.
She didn't respond though, and after a beat of silence Axeclaw answered instead.
"Werewolves are considered dark creatures. As if the Ministry would give their savior to a dark creature so soon after the Dark Lord fell." His tone was blank but Harry was clever enough to notice the implied derision. He was sure a lot of the worst of humanity called goblins dark creatures too, so it wasn't exactly out of place. "Despite the magical inheritance there, the Ministry never even acknowledged him as your godfather, so he really had no claim even though the attempt was made."
Clearly… Remus Lupin definitely was not in his parents' will as his godfather, and if what Axeclaw was implying was true and the Ministry's bureaucracy (their ignorance and bias) could not only overwrite but ignore magic in favor of their paperwork when it didn't suit their prejudices, it was likely his parents couldn't legally file a will with Remus' name on it like that. They'd had no choice, but they'd done it magically anyway.
What struck him about this conversation though… was that this Remus guy had tried.
If Harry had been harboring any resentment about where this man had been all his life, despite the nonsense werewolf prejudice, he found himself forgiving the man he'd never met a little. Despite a childhood with the Dursleys… all those horrible memories…
Remus Lupin had tried.
And… he'd failed, apparently.
Being 'laughed out of the ministry' as Axeclaw put it was a wince-inducing thought for sure but…
Someone had tried, for him.
And given up, which was less amazing, but still.
Harry could count on one hand the amount of people who'd ever gone to bat for him, and he was thrilled that it sounded like there was a legitimate chance this Remus Lupin would be one of them.
He wanted me.
The thought was almost intrusive in nature and he felt his breath catch in his chest.
With everyone else dead or unable to help me, all that time ago he'd wanted me.
The Dursleys… didn't.
They never wanted me, not for a single second and they made that abundantly clear.
But Remus had.
The unfairness of it all, the fact someone had wanted to take him in and been denied in favor of those who vehemently hadn't and then spent his entire childhood blaming him for that decision he'd had no part in… that was a whole other can of worms. The injustice about why Remus had been denied was another issue he just didn't have the emotional capacity to confront for today.
He'd grown up thinking he was a very unwanted child, and today he was learning that had in fact not been true at all.
Someone had wanted him.
All details and reality aside… that made his chest feel oddly tight.
He'd spent too long in silence though, he knew he still had a charade to wear and glanced up, again back at Mrs. Malfoy as she'd brought it up first, after all.
"…what about Sirius Black then?"
She straightened up a bit and nodded once. "The prevailing theory is that he was the one to sell your parents out to the dark lord. He is in Azkaban for that, as well as the murder of a dozen Muggles and yet another of your father's friends—Peter Pettigrew."
"Oh." He purposefully sounded crestfallen… but honestly he didn't really have to pretend. That was still insanely depressing to hear no matter if he'd heard it a couple times before.
A joyous surprise though, was Draco picking up on a piece of that and asking the real question at heart here all on his own.
"Theory?" Draco chirped towards his mother, and Harry realized as the two adults exchange yet another loaded look, that this might be a clue he hadn't had before.
Either Sirius Black was innocent and wrongly convicted, insane, or he was evil. Definition of evil aside, the Malfoys had been dark back during the first war.
Mr. Malfoy had been a death eater.
And no, I am not giving that too much thought today, I'll go insane. He scolded himself.
What was important was that, while they probably couldn't speak to if he was insane or not, they might know if Sirius Black was innocent or evil.
After all, chances were Mr. Malfoy knew damn well if Sirius Black was also a death eater.
He wouldn't say that outright obviously, but whatever reaction he had…
And going but the lengthy look he was exchanging with his wife, it was quite the bit of unsaid history he was hiding.
"He was never given a trial. Given the timing of it all, I was not in the position to call for such a thing." Lucius finally admitted, mainly towards Draco's inquisitive eyes, his voice smooth with no hesitation despite the long pause. "Not that I cared to."
And despite being kind of rude to admit he hadn't cared that Harry's only magical relative might've been incarcerated in hell wrongly, frankly the honesty was oddly refreshing in a way.
"I did, however. Annoying as he was, he was my cousin. There were definitely worse relatives in our family to have that title." Narcissa frowned, kind of taking Harry off guard with this random bit of information. "But Lucius was right, it wasn't worth risking our own family since we had no proof either. And Draco, you'd just been born, we had more to worry about than what Sirius did or did not do. It's not an excuse of course, just a fact. I do not regret being implicit, as my own family came first." She delicately tucked a piece of Draco's hair behind his ear almost fondly as she explained, and Harry knew this random confession was more for her son, so that Draco didn't think poorly of them more then anything for Harry's benefit.
And honestly he was fine with that.
He was more wrapped up in the realization that he might've misjudged Slytherins a bit. Either she was lying, or she was using honesty like a weapon to throw them all off, and worse is that even if Harry knew that he still didn't know what she was trying to throw him off the trail of.
Or… she really was telling the truth… and then that would mean… what?
It was… very believable, this explanation. Which only made it that much more confusing—why would she suddenly confess that? If he were a full Gryffindor he would hate her for condemning someone, much less someone who should've been close to him, for such selfish reasons. Was she banking that he understood Slytherins enough not to condemn her? Did he even understand Slytherins enough to recognize her intentions were understandably selfish, or did he hate that? Or was he just so thrown off by her being so randomly honest about it to get upset right now, but he would later? Did it even matter?
Was she not aware he already kind of had condemned her?
What is she playing at?
He didn't know what expression he was wearing, but he suddenly realized Mr. Malfoy was smirking at him and he immediately dropped his attention back to the table where his family tree was written—or at least pretended to.
That's right, I already don't like her. Don't think too hard on it.
"Is that all for today, Mr. Potter?"
Harry glanced at the time and realized they did have a bit more time before they needed to be back at Hogwarts, and the letter in his pocket suddenly got a bit heavier as he remembered the other things he needed to ask. He could just hand the letter to Axeclaw and it would tell him about Dumbledore probably being the one to cast the mail ward and such, but everything else… he kind of needed an answer, and he wasn't going to get another chance to speak face-to-face with the goblins until Christmas easily, if that since he wasn't sure he'd be allowed to leave the castle without an adult (and more importantly without Dumbledore knowing he was going to Gringotts specifically).
He didn't want to give away any more information then strictly necessary though, not in front of the Malfoys at least. He'd already told Draco though so…
Wait, finances. Mr. Malfoy at least would appreciate if it were just about finances.
"Uh, I did have a couple questions actually, on my last statement. But ah… I think you said you had a potion to stop the aftereffects?" He hinted, and the goblin nodded.
"Correct, I will retrieve it; should only take a moment." He gathered his tools and began pushing his cart out, Draco dragged him back from the table to force him to sit again.
"Seriously, are you okay?"
"Honestly no, that super sucked." He flashed him a weary grin and the blond made a face. "But there's a potion to fix it though so don't worry so much."
"You're an idiot." He deadpanned, choosing not to sit beside him but stand in agitation. Which matched his father who also chose to continue standing although with a lot less tension in his posture.
"I am impressed you're taking an interest in your finances at such a young age, Mr. Potter." Lucius commented in something like approval and Harry did not know how to take the compliment.
"Ah… thank you sir." He shifted a bit in his chair. "I thought it… relevant."
He had kind of hoped they'd take the subtle hint to excuse themselves while he talked privately with his account manager but either they missed it (not likely) or they were willing to commit the social blunder of ignoring how awkward them listening in on this would be in the name of gathering information. Not that he could blame them.
Or maybe it wasn't weird for adults to oversee children when they were attempting to do adult things.
Not that he'd know, what responsible adults actually did. Maybe he was imagining things.
He wasn't imagining how awkward this was though.
And either Draco had been getting so much better lately but apparently getting too comfy with his parents right behind him made him forget every lesson in observation he'd ever learned because he was being pretty damn oblivious to Harry's tension.
"Is this about what you mentioned earlier?" He asked curiously.
I'm going to hit him when we get back to Hogwarts and I don't thinkhis mother will hex me for it.
Harry gave him a look but he just blinked wide grey eyes back balefully.
"What? What's that for!?"
"I don't believe he wants us to know what it was he mentioned, dear." Mrs. Malfoy sounded very amused as she clued her son in, and Draco blinked in surprise again, looking between his parents and Harry as if only just realizing several things.
"Oh… but that…?" He tilted his head. "Should we leave then?"
"Draco." Harry had to lean forward and put his head in his hands, and he heard Mr. Malfoy actually chuckle under his breath.
"What!?" Said oblivious blond demanded, knowing he was at the butt of the joke but not what the joke actually was.
"It's a wonder Blaise hasn't eaten you alive yet." He snarked back, and Draco's face flushed a bit pink in frustration. Harry just fully gave up because at this point there was no point, he might as well just come clean. Also he was tired and his headache was getting worse so he just couldn't bothered. "I kind of wanted to talk to Axeclaw alone but I going to take a guess that either adults don't often just let children talk finances with account managers alone very often, or to leave would be a waste of potential information. Or both." He sighed bluntly.
He saw Mr. Malfoy smirking again as he resumed "looking" at the parchment on the table like he wasn't fully listening in.
"Oh." Draco stared at him, brow furrowing slightly as he took that in. After a pause though… "If you wanted the conversation to be private, we would leave." He announced, speaking for his parents who both seemed to pause and glance at him for it.
The best part?
Draco was telling the truth.
And for Harry it pulled out the first genuine smile from him in what felt like a week, even despite his growing headache.
"And that Draco, is why you're my favorite." He told him matter-of-factly, and Draco did a double take as if wondering if he'd missed another social clue somehow. Harry just smiled widely at him, but he wasn't about to make Draco put his money where his mouth was and attempt to get into a power struggle with his own parents. Clearly they wanted to stay, and if Draco demanded they leave… well.
Harry was not going to be the reason for internal Malfoy family conflict.
He took mercy on his friend and just continued. "It's alright. And yeah, it's about the things I mentioned earlier—I saw them on my statement and didn't know what they were for." He lied, praying Draco at least took the hint that he didn't want the adults present to know he'd seen his parents' will.
Thankfully he seemed to at least catch that and nodded, tilting his head. "I did suggest it before though… my parents might know." He nodded, looking at his dad specifically who looked up as if just hearing his name, like he hadn't been clearly eavesdropping.
"About what specifically?" Lucius nodded openly.
There was really no point in hiding it anymore, and Draco was right, Mr. Malfoy was probably the guy to ask so far as properties went at least. Harry hid his grudging sigh—the end was near so he just needed to get his information and back to Hogwarts as soon as he could. He'd deal with the breech of information to untrustworthy parties later, once his more imminent need for truth was sorted.
Axeclaw took that very moment to walk in, a large scroll of parchment in one hand and a capped potion in the other;, Harry acknowledged him with a nod and then turned back to the Malfoy patriarch for his question.
"Well… I saw I had a lot of properties, or inherited them, but the one I wasn't able to find any information on was something called Longsgate." He admitted. "I just wanted to know what it was."
"It is indeed a property, and a rather infamous one in some circles." Lucius agreed, but didn't seem that interested.
"So far as it concerns your account, Mr. Potter, the property was actually willed to the Mr. Lupin we just discussed," Axeclaw cut in, his 'helpful' tone back telling them he wasn't happy to be left out of the conversation when he was only gone a minute. Given the annoyed snarl Harry got when he was handed the potion by the goblin in question, he also knew this was stupid questioning since he knew Harry had read the will. This was all just wizarding games he didn't care for.
Harry cared though, when he saw the outright surprised look on Mr. Malfoy's face, and glancing to the side realized Mrs. Malfoy looked similarly taken off guard.
"Really? It was willed to Lupin? Surely the Potters knew though."
"Knew what?"
"As a werewolf he is not permitted to own property, nor receive inheritance of any will." Axeclaw explained, clinically in his facts but the brutality of that information hit Harry hard.
But wait… they wouldn't put his name on the will because werewolves can't adopt children, but they would let my parents will him a property even though he couldn't accept it?
That has to mean…
Mrs. Malfoy stood now to stand by her husband and saw his expression, nodding once at him. "Indeed. No matter if the Potters willed the land to him, the ministry likely seized it immediately." She confirmed what he already suspected, and it was yet another reason to hate this wizarding government.
They let his parents make the blunder and approved the will that way just so they could take the property the second they died. If they rejected Remus as his godfather because of what he was, they definitely knew he couldn't inherit property and they'd done it anyway.
Most of the 'wealth' of ancient and noble houses was their assets instead of their gold—their books, artifacts, land. Legal or not Harry saw this as outright theft and it pissed him off.
Or… he was about to get pissed off before Axeclaw brandished every single one of his wicked sharp teeth and Harry realized that the goblin was actually grinning.
"Indeed it is unfortunate news. Especially when you consider the nature of the Longsgate property." He sounded far too chipper and not only did it freak Harry out but the Malfoys actually looked disturbed through their masks too. "Several generations back, a rather eccentric Potter patriarch of the day decided he wanted his descendants to have the chance to test their mettle against unique, exotic, and dangerous beasts. Hunting wild magical creatures was much more popular in centuries past and laws on protected species not yet in place, so he feared many of the greatest offerings of nature would be hunted to extinction. And in fact he was very correct as many dozens, if not hundreds of species since that day have been entirely wiped out, or nearly so as Longsgate remains one of the only places many species still exist, even in such few numbers. In his concern of this he spent his lifetime seeking out and capturing a wealth of creatures, and creating what is in essence the world's most dangerous zoo."
Harry's eyes widened. "That's Longsgate. It's a zoo?"
"Well. A zoo implies cages, caretakers… any amount of security at all." Axeclaw did his sharp grin again and Harry felt a chill run up his spine—in a good way this time. "My understanding is that Mr. Lupin only set foot on Longsgate long enough to 'claim' his inheritance before removing himself from the property. From what I hear most of the ministry officials who went to… seize the property, were never found. Although a rescue mission into Longsgate is not something many volunteer for so I don't believe anyone looked too hard for them."
Harry couldn't help but grin.
Okay, my parents were awesome.
"I suppose that is… fitting." Mrs. Malfoy seemed a cross between genuinely impressed and judgmental of the extremely Gryffindor vengeance tactic that was, all the while trying to pretend she was not impacted at all.
"At this moment Longsgate exists in this… limbo. Mr. Lupin officially inherited it, although legally he has no right to it. The ministry was not able to seize it though so legally it can still be tracked and reclaimed by the previous owner—meaning you as the sole member of the Potter family. With the proper paperwork, that is." Axeclaw explained.
Harry caught on the pointed use of the word legal.
"Magically though…?"
"Magically both you and Mr. Lupin share ownership. It's a unique property as it can't exactly just be gifted away; the original creator of it ensured only someone with the Potter bloodline would be able to access most of it and the associated enchantments ensuring that have not been undone despite what laws have or have not been put in place since the property was established. There was the magical inheritance done when it was willed to Mr. Lupin that is magically binding, however that does not remove the pre-existing magical inheritance claim you also have to it simply be being born to James Potter. The ministry could legally of course request Gringotts to undo said enchantments on the both of you, but they have not yet paid that fee."
Which meant the fee was probably exorbitant and they were far too cheap to bother just for some dangerous animals that'd sooner eat them rather then than actually be useful or valuable. They thought they were getting a some free real estate by stealing it from a werewolf and really just inherited a problem they weren't willing to even set foot on much less pay to upkeep. All this time Harry hadn't even known that this property was technically his (maybe the ministry didn't even know it was still technically/magically still his) and clearly Remus hadn't been living there so they were probably content just to let the property rot, happy in their knowledge they'd cheated a werewolf out of yet another thing even if they didn't even want it themselves in the first place.
Assholes, Harry promptly decided. Not that he hadn't already had his suspicions.
But it also meant Longsgate was probably unattended, and empty. And full of dangerous creatures of course but… that was good information to have. He didn't know what he'd do with it, but he liked it a lot.
"Any other questions?"
"Yes, just one… something else I didn't recognize and I've no idea what it is: the Eileen Prince Foundation?"
"It's a scholarship fund, for Hogwarts students. Your mother created it in honor of a friend of hers." Mr. Malfoy, surprisingly, answered almost immediately and when Harry looked at him he actually met his gaze instead of pretending to only casually know this information.
"A scholarship fund?" He repeated slowly, not having seen that coming. But he supposed it made sense… he… he actually didn't know how much Hogwarts tuition cost, he hadn't ever asked despite all the other things he'd paid attention to—not having enough money for something was thankfully not one of his many problems at the moment. As a premier school as Hogwarts claimed to be, it would make sense it wasn't cheap and that scholarship funds would only go hand in hand.
After all, given what he knew about the Weasley family then there had to be ways to support financially struggling families to give their children an education.
A theory which was promptly blown out of the water by Axeclaw.
"Indeed, the only stipulation to receive this fund is that the recipient is not a pureblood."
What does that… eh? I mean yeah, pureblood typically come from money but that's not always the case. I mean I can't think of an example right now aside from the Weasleys but… why would my mother make that the rule specifically?
Mr. Malfoy simply lifted his chin a bit. "Not that it matters of course."
Completely disregarding the glaring exception the Weasley family was. Which, if what Draco had told him start of last year was because the two clans didn't exactly see eye to eye.
Yeah, not the audience to get into the details.
"Do I need to do anything to keep it going then?" He turned back to Axeclaw, who inclined his head.
"I will assemble the proper paperwork required and owl it to you for you to decide what to do with it. It is not actually connected to the Potter account but was in your mother's name alone, so I was not involved with the details and the previous account manager who was the main contact for it has since died. It has stagnated in the years without someone tending to it but if you would like me to incorporate it into the Potter account responsibilities I would be able to do so."
For a fee, obviously.
"Please," he nodded, finally realizing that might be it and he still had an undrunk potion in his hand and the dizziness was only getting worse so maybe he should call it. "I don't have anything else for today—thank you Axeclaw."
The goblin nodded once as Harry uncapped and downed the potion he was holding without hesitating. True to his expectations it was awful—like pure lemon pulp with chunks of rancid peanut butter and poppy seeds poorly blended in.
The only saving grace was despite him having the urge to vomit from the taste and texture, as soon as he lowered the bottle and coughed out the horrible feeling on his tongue, his headache began lessening as if someone had undone the clamp on his forehead and a warm feeling flushed through him to the tips of his fingers and toes. Probably replenishing all the blood he'd lost, hopefully.
He still felt dizzy but it was way more manageable now, and the sudden relief of the tension and pain just made him flat out tired. To the point where he got the feeling he could probably take a nap once they got back to Hogwarts actually.
"A pleasure doing business as always, Mr. Potter." The goblin intoned, accepting the empty bottle back—along with the letter Harry had silently wrapped around it.