Brave New World

A/N: Thank you for the wonderful and thoughtful reviews. All were greatly appreciated and inspiring. I am sorry for the delay on this chapter it\'s been a rather busy week. There will be more Harry/Blaise in the next chapter.



Hope you like.



Rated: M



Disclaimer: I don\'t own the characters or concepts related to the Harry Potter verse. No profit was made from this writing.





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Chapter Fifteen



When Neville walked back into the Gryffindor boy’s dorm after lunch, he was mildly surprised to find Harry sitting on the edge of his bed surrounded by all the clothing he owned and the armoire normally containing those clothes bare. He had noticed the other boy missing from the afternoon meal but it wasn’t unusual for students to pass on the Sunday lunch if they wanted to sleep in. Ron and Hermione had been at the table, unusually quiet.



Neville noticed the two had been especially distant from Harry since Hermione’s birthday and concluded something must have happened between Ron and Harry when they had stood to the side speaking with furious gestures and words that no one could hear. In fact, Neville heard Harry didn’t sit with them during the classes they shared on Friday, sticking to the back of the class and exiting immediately after the bell rang.



Whatever the problem was the trio hadn’t resolved it by the weekend either. While the three didn’t spend all of their time together like they used to, this time Harry had avoided them all together.



He could tell by the way Harry hands tugged on his hair that he was frustrated about something. Only, what did his clothes have to do with it.



“Is something wrong, Harry,” he offered tentatively not wanting to intrude on the other’s privacy. Harry must have been deep in thought because his head jerked up, startled, just as his wand was slipping into his hand. The movement was executed with perfect ease, as if Harry had done it many times before.



“Neville!” He looked a little sheepish as he put the wand away with a flick of his hand. “Sorry, didn’t see you there mate.”



“No worries. I didn’t want to disturb you but you looked like you had a lot on your mind and I just wanted to know if there was anything I could do to help.”



“No, there really isn’t anything you can do unless you can get me a complete wardrobe in time for my meeting with the goblins from Gringotts in the next hour.”



“Well, I can’t get you an entire wardrobe, but you’re welcome to anything in mine that fits.”



Harry frowned and Neville could hear the thoughts rushing through his head. While Harry did have a growth spurt this past summer, so had Neville and he was much taller than Harry’s mild five foot ten inch frame. The only Gryffindor who rivaled him in height in their year was Ron. Not only was Neville taller but he was broader through the shoulders in chest as well. All those weeks spent toiling in the Longbottom greenhouses had begun to show fruition this summer. Whereas Harry had a leaner form, whipcord thin but lined with taut defined muscle.



“Thanks for the offer Neville,” Harry sighed, “I probably should have ordered something from Gladrags while I was purchasing Hermione’s gift.”



“No really,” he walked over to his own personal armoire and swung the doors open wide. “I can help if you like. Whimsy?” He snapped his fingers after the summoning and less than a second later, the house elf appeared in the room.



“What can Whimsy do for Master Neville?”



Contrary to Hermione’s belief that all house elves were abused slaves, Neville could state with complete sincerity that his family had never treated the loyal creatures with anything less than the respect they deserved. Whimsy proudly wore the house of Longbottom colors as she had for as long as he had known her. Instead of the usual tea towel, her toga styled dress was a rich navy trimmed in silver along the edges with the Longbottom coat of arms just below the right shoulder.



“Whimsy, I’d like you to meet my friend Lord Harry Potter. Harry, this is my valet Whimsy. She’s been with me since I was eleven years old and I’d be lost without her I believe.”



She preened under the compliment, not offering any rebuttal, for his words had been the truth. Though this was the first year he was allowed to bring her to Hogwarts, Whimsy had been a constant companion during his difficult transition years when he began learning to take the reins of his house. As a result, her English was better than the typical house elf and she was much more outgoing.



“Hello Whimsy, it’s very nice to meet you.”



“Whimsies honored to meet the great wizard Master Potter, sir. Dobby tells us house elves all ‘bout how the great Master Potter helps free him from bad Masters.”



“Dobby’s a good friend of mine. And please you can call me Harry.”



Harry reached out a hand for her to shake in greeting which made Neville grin. Whimsy looked at it in surprise, as most people weren’t likely to offer a servant their hand in greeting as an equal. This was merely another aspect of Harry’s character that endeared him to so many. She looked to him for permission and of course he granted it. Slowly she reached out to grasp Harry’s hand with her thin fingers to shake and smiled.



“Dobby is right ‘bout Master Harry. Hes great wizard. What can Whimsies do for Master Neville and Master Harry?”



“Well you see Harry here has an important meeting with Gringotts this afternoon. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have the appropriate attire. I offered him the use of my dress robes but they’re going to need some alterations, so I was hoping you might be able to help.”



“This I’s can do.” The little elf nodded eagerly. “First,” she frowned at the clutter on Harry’s bed, then snapped her fingers sending the clothing back into the armoire on its proper hangers and folded neatly on shelves. “Better.”



Harry grinned, “I suppose that was a bit of a mess. Thank you Whimsy.”



“Now lets see.” Whimsy was already tapping the side of her face in deep contemplation at which Harry blinked nervously at him. “Come, come, Master Harry. Yous must stand straight now.” She snapped her fingers and her measuring tape appeared and began its furious assessments of Harry’s body. During this Harry looked both amused and startled, especially when the quick snapping tape gauged his inseam. All the while Whimsy hummed her usual nonsencial melody she used when deep in thought.



Finished, the tape snapped together and disappeared. “I’s think dark green suits Master Harry.”



From the back of his armoire floated dark forest green dress robes that Neville had only worn once. The Longbottom coat of arms was removed with a wave of Whimsy’s hand as were any wrinkles the cloth had obtained while hanging up. The luxuriant material was trimmed in black at the collar, cuffs and tail.



“Master Harry, yous like these?”



“Yes, of course,” Harry admired the robes honestly. “But Neville, those look terribly expensive.”



“They’re fine. Whimsy always picks the proper outfit and if she chose these then be my guest.”



“Alright,” he relented though Neville could see his pride was having a difficult time accepting. “Thank you Neville and you too Whimsy.”



“Oh Whimsies not finished,” she chirped happily. “Not at all.”



What proceeded provided Neville with the best amusement he’d had all day.



With a snap of her fingers, Harry was quickly stripped down to his underwear making him release a girlish squawk of dismay. He looked like he wanted to cover himself but knew Neville would laugh even harder if he attempted such a feminine movement. Whimsy began her usual humming, casting quick cleansing charms over both Harry’s body and hair. This had his eyes wide in disbelief behind his glasses.



“She buffed my nails,” Harry glanced down at both his hands and feet, and then back at Neville with such incredulity, Neville fell back across his bed holding his stomach as he cackled.



When he could finally catch his breath, Neville sat back up and waved off Harry’s concern. “Just relax, it will be over before you know it.”



“And my teeth,” Harry blinked as he ran his tongue over them.



“All part of the process.”



“She doesn’t do this to you every morning.” Harry bit his lip, his face clouded with caution. “Does she?”



“No just on special occasions. Business meetings, balls or the such.”



“I didn’t know personal house elves were allowed at school.” Harry sniffed discretely, then lifted his bare arm to sniff again. “Sandalwood?” he muttered finally.



“Students aren’t. Heirs to Ancient and Noble Houses, or Lords themselves are. It is part of the arrangements the founders made for the thirteen Houses when the school first opened.”



“The founders weren’t apart of the Ancient and Noble Houses?”



“Though powerful and treated with reverence, no they weren’t. The thirteen Houses were there long before the founders.”



“I guess I haven’t gotten that far in my reading,” he shrugged.



“The convergence of the thirteen is dated back to Merlin,” Neville explained. “Though each House can trace it’s origins further back, it wasn’t until the time of Camelot that we were brought together. Can you guess why?”



“As a balance to the Knights?”



“Yes. The sisters of Avalon sought balance as the world was changing. The muggles were gaining religion and moving beyond the guidance of witches and wizards. The thirteen were brought together to ensure that magic remained true to the Divine and the old ways were never forgotten.”



“Trousers,” Whimsy mumbled breaking the thread of the conversation. A pair of dark green trousers appeared on Harry with a snap of her fingers. “No,” she bit her lip and they were gone again. “’Haps Charcoal.” She snapped but before they were on more than a few seconds, “No.” A quick snap and they were gone again. “Black, yes, black.” She nodded eagerly after they appeared.



Another snap and the trousers were altered to fit Harry’s smaller proportions. The black flat front trousers molded to Harry\'s slim frame much better than they ever had to his. Harry twisted, looking down at the trousers giving Neville a quick glimpse of something red on the back of his neck. Before he could ask, Whimsy had covered him in a t-shirt.



“Now shirt.” Harry went through the same process until he was finally given a black shirt in the same shade of sable as the trousers he wore.



The final results made for a stunningly handsome Harry Potter. Whimsy dressed Harry in a waistcoat of forest green with a classic notched collar and conservative cut that suited him perfectly. A Windsor knotted necktie of green with pale white and black diagonal stripes completed the ensemble.



“You’re looking well, Lord Potter.” Neville smiled at Harry’s astonished expression as he gazed at himself in the full length mirror. “Very dapper.” From the tips of the high buffed black dragon hide boots to the gleam of the square shaped steel that peaked out at his cuff, Harry was every inch the Lord he was born to be.



“Almost done, Master Harry.” Whimsy rocked back and forth on her heels eagerly. She always had enjoyed her work.



A quick snap and Harry’s messy hair was now stylishly tousled, leaving the new length to shape his face from the left side part and taper off at the base of his neck. “That’s definitely an improvement.” Harry grinned at his reflection.



“Might Whimsies borrow Master Harry’s spectacles to repair?” She held out a tremulous hand, not knowing how Harry would respond to such a personal request.



“Sure Whimsy,” Harry slid the glasses off and placed them in her hand without much fuss. A moment later the normally circular frames were no longer plastic but a thin black wire frame with a softer rectangular shape.



Neville never would have guessed how much shifting the contours of Harry’s glasses would age his face. Or perhaps like so many others, he had only been able to see the young soft face of the eleven year old that joined the Wizarding world for the first time and not the man Harry had grown to be.



Even Harry seemed startled by the transformation. He reached a shaky hand out to the mirror, touching the reflection once before moving away as if not daring to believe the man staring back was himself.



“Is Master Harry upset with Whimsies?”



“No!” The response was short and Harry caught himself, turning to Whimsy with a gentle smile. “No, not at all Whimsy. I guess I just wasn’t expecting it. Thank you, you’ve done a wonderful job. I certainly couldn’t have pulled this off by myself.”



“Yous most welcome, Master Harry. Can Whimsies help with anything else, Master Neville?”



“No Whimsy, thank you again.”



“I’s happy to help Master Neville.” She gave a short bow and disappeared with a snap.



When they were alone, Harry released a long heavy sigh. His brows had drawn together into a frown as he continued to look at the man in the mirror. “Something wrong?” Neville asked.



“I think I’m coming to understand Ron’s insecurities.” Harry raised a hand looking at the drape of the robes across his arm and chest. The rich fabric, the elegant detailing were expected of a Lord of an Ancient and Noble House. Something Ron would be jealous of and then take out on Harry.



“Ron has lots of issues he must deal with that have nothing to do with you Harry. It doesn’t help that he doesn’t respond well to change. There isn’t anything you can do about that. It’s something he has to work through on his own. And it isn’t your fault that you were born to a greater purpose no matter how Ron feels about it.”



“I think it’s very difficult to stay friends with someone like me. I’m surprised we haven’t had more troubles, especially after fourth year. Didn’t really resolve those problems, did we. Just pushed them aside because we wanted to be friends again.”



“A true friend would never ask you to deny who you are Harry. And I’m not just talking about the Boy-who-lived stuff. There is a lot more to Harry Potter than that.”



“Lord Harrigan, you mean? I can barely wrap my mind around it Neville. How do I expect Ron to?”



“There comes a point in all of our lives when we must grow up and recognize the responsibilities that come with adulthood. Ron hasn’t reached that point yet, so it’s hard for him to accept that you have.”



Harry said nothing but Neville knew he was considering Ron’s immature behavior recently at Hermione’s birthday party.



“There is no set age a person matures. Even though Wizarding law grants us the privileges of adults at seventeen, most wizards and witches never leave their parents home until well after they’re employed and have the funds for new homes, or are married.”



“And with Mrs. Weasley, I’m sure that’s even longer than normal. She means well but I’m not even her son and sometimes her mothering is overwhelming. I can’t imagine how the others take it. But I guess with Ron being the youngest son, he’s probably enjoying the attention now that his brothers are gone and it’s just him and Ginny. Asking him to grow up a bit now might be unfair.”



“You’ll find Mrs. Weasley’s attitude in many Wizarding families, especially toward witches who are to make prosperous marriages and heirs. Ron’s going to have grow up at some point whether he wants to or not.”



“I guess I feel like it’s one more reminder that I’m different. I hate that Dumbledore kept this a secret. I have nerves twisting in my gut and I\'m starting to think maybe he was right. Maybe I’m not ready for this.”



“He was wrong.” The last thing he wanted was for Harry to lose confidence in himself. “It doesn’t matter what Dumbledore’s intentions were. If you had been told from the beginning about your heritage, you wouldn’t be feeling nervous right now. You would be prepared.”



“Suppose you’re right.” Harry dragged in a deep breath and released it slowly. “I guess it’s time to back up my words with action.”



Three sharp raps on the door was followed by someone calling out, “Harry, the Headmaster is downstairs in the common room asking for you. Can I come in?”



“Sure Hermione,” Harry told the familiar feminine voice turning to wait until she came in. Her head ducked inside first, eyes widening in surprise as the door was opened further to allow her to step inside. She stared wordlessly as if she had never seen him before.



“Everything alright, ‘Mione?” Harry knew he looked nothing like the Harry Potter she was accustomed to and was having fun teasing her about it.



“You look different.” She finally managed after several more moments of silence. Her head tilted to the side and he couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face.



“Different bad?” He asked and she immediately shook her head.



“No! Of course not. Different nice,” she offered him a soft gentle smile of appreciation. “You look very mature Harry. What’s the occasion?”



He should probably keep the truth to himself a while longer, as he didn’t know if he could handle any surprise revelations this afternoon after Ron’s. He just hated lying to her. “I’m meeting with the goblin representative from Gringotts this afternoon.”



“Is that why Professor Dumbledore is here to see you? About Sirius’ will?”



“Not exactly,” he hedged. He knew she wanted to know but wouldn’t ask. Ordinarily, she would have, he thought to himself. She would have kept at him until he finally relented and spilled everything. Did a change of clothes make such a big difference?



“I’ll explain later, alright?”



Harry gave Neville a silent nod of thanks, earning one in return before making his way down to the common room. He would speak more to Neville again later when they were alone, pleased that he had found someone who could help him understand more about the Ancient and Noble houses from a personal perspective, not merely a book.



The common room was empty for the most part, except for a few students studying over in the corner near the fireplace. Harry was grateful Ron wasn’t around so he would miss seeing Harry in the expensive clothes. Though they had come to a small truce, Harry knew that another argument would not be beneficial to their already tremulous friendship.



“Good Afternoon Harry. You’re looking well.”



Dumbledore looked just as bizarrely fitted as usual, this time in turquoise robes with animated white clouds floating across them. Harry wondered if he truly enjoyed his strange attire or if everything he did held some deeper secret meaning even down to the robes he wore.



“Good afternoon, sir. Hermione told me you wanted to see me.”



“Yes,” Dumbledore gestured to the portrait that swung open for them to leave. “The representative from Gringotts and his associates have arrived. I’ve placed them in a small sitting room with refreshments while I retrieved you.”



“Thank you sir.” Part of him wished this could have been handled without Dumbledore’s knowledge or interference but he had promised not to leave the school grounds and he would keep to his word.



“I was wondering if perhaps you might wish someone to accompany you this afternoon. Myself or perhaps Professor McGonagall? I’m sure you’re feeling a little unsettled about the obligations you’ll soon be facing and another presence, especially an adult, can be reassuring.”



“That won’t be necessary.” Even if it were, the last person he would invite would be Dumbledore.



“Are you certain, Harry. Accepting the mantle of an Ancient and Noble House is no small undertaking. Guidance-”



“Should have been offered years ago,” Harry interrupted before the older wizard could continue. “I appreciate the offer Professor but I’ll be handling my family’s business now sir. On my own.” He emphasized, just incase the Headmaster held any lingering doubts of his position.



The sheer audacity of the man, Harry closed his eyes to cut off the remainder of that thought. If he continued on in that vein, he would lose his temper. He didn’t want to start this meeting unsettled. He needed to remain calm and have his wits about him to be prepared to face the newest challenges in his life.



Harry went though a few breathing exercises Leo had taught him that were usually a big help in reining in his temper. Perhaps later he would go to the Room of Requirement to train alone.



And he almost stopped in his tracks at the very thought of the Room of Requirement.



No. No. No. No.



He backed the memory off not nearly ready to face what had happened that night in the Room of Requirement between him and Blaise.



Blaise.



Bloody. Fucking. Hell.



His heartbeat literally skipped and then began to race. A shiver of something sensually compelling he had never felt before slid down his spine every time his thoughts turned to the Slytherin. The way Blaise’s mouth felt pressed against his, when never in his life had Harry even considered being attracted to another male sexually.



Not right now, he lifted a shaky arm to knead the heel of his hand into his chest lightly, as if that would calm the fervent pulsing in his chest. Yes he had put off confronting the memory several times over the past two days but now was definitely not the time.



The same hand that sought relief against his chest, rose to touch his mouth before it was snatched away.



Later.



This was best, as Dumbledore stopped in front of an open door to wave him inside. The sitting room was a combination of the library and the Gryffindor common room decorated in shades of crimson and gold. Heavy draped were drawn back from large windows to reveal the castle grounds and the sunny Sunday afternoon.



A goblin, who Harry assumed was from Gringotts sat at a large circular ebony table. He was accompanied by an older gentleman who was attired in smoke grey trousers and frock coat with a crisp white shirt and crimson tie making the most of his rugged tanned features. Neatly groomed hair was more salt than pepper, a clear sign of his age making Harry deduce this was the Potter steward, Seymour Colfax.



Before each of them was a tea service so Harry figured whatever the goblin was sipping gently from his cup wasn’t a fine English blend. At his entrance both men set their beverages aside and stood, waiting until he reached the table with Dumbledore.



“Here we are, gentlemen. Allow me to introduce, Harry Potter. Harry this is Gardip, the Director of the Inheritance Department at Gringotts and his associate Mr. Seymour Colfax.”



This was one of those times Harry wished he had paid more attention in History of Magic when Binns was going on about Goblins and goblin wars. He could only hope that his honest intentions would make up for any errors in etiquette he might make.



“Lord Potter,” the goblin’s voice was low and gruff and what Harry expected despite the gentleman’s attire he wore. “It is an honor to make your acquaintance. The Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter has been clients of Gringotts for many years and our many endeavors prosperous. It is our hopes that our continued alliance will prove so in the future as well.”



Despite uneasy goblin wizard relations, it was obvious the house of Potter was held with esteem. It might be because it was among the thirteen or by the money either way, Harry intended to take advantage.



“The pleasure is mine, Mr. Gardip ” He extended a hand in greeting, ignoring Dumbledore’s sniff of disapproval as well as the other man’s blink of surprise. If Gardip was taken aback or offended by his gesture, it was quickly concealed as a small hand joined his. “It is my hope that our association reaps many rewards as well.”



“This is the Potter family’s steward, Seymour Colfax. He has been attending your estate diligently since your father awarded him the placement.”



“Greetings My Lord,” he bowed once in respect. “It is an honor to meet you at last.”



“And you as well, Mr. Colfax.” Harry offered his hand to this man as well. “I must thank you for taking care of my family’s estate these past years. I know I have much to learn and look forward to doing so under your tutelage.”



“It was a privilege. My family has lived in Deckmoor for many generations and we have always served the House of Potter to the best of our ability.”



“Deckmoor?” He looked to the goblin who understood his confusion.



“Perhaps we should begin, My Lord, please be seated.” Gardip turned to Dumbledore with a small nod, “Thank you Headmaster Dumbledore.” It was a clear dismissal that could not be mistaken for anything less.



Dumbledore looked at him as though hoping he had changed his mind but Harry merely smiled once in thanks giving the elder wizard no choice but to leave. If Harry had been alone he just might have burst into laughter at the Headmaster’s disgruntled expression.



“If you require more refreshment, Harry, feel free to summon one of Hogwarts’ elves.”



“Thank you sir.”



When they were alone and the door closed firmly behind Dumbledore, the goblin waved a hand, encircling them within a golden barrier. It spread to enclose the entire room before it shimmered away. Harry didn’t need to be told it was a privacy charm. He didn’t trust Dumbledore not to have taken steps to listen in on their conversation either.



“Now My Lord,” Gardip began again.



“Please, call me Harry. I’m not really used to the title yet and I keep resisting the urge to glance over my shoulder.”



“Certainly,” Gardip paused, as if testing the new moniker on his tongue. “Lord Harry.” Opening a large folder, he withdrew three stacks of parchment and placed them into separate piles. A final set was taken out and Gardip closed the folder and handed them over for him to read. “I thought we would start with your parents’ final Will and Testament. We’ve waited fifteen years to release these documents, my Lord.”



“Why so long?”



“Because no one stepped forward,” the goblin answered honestly. “After your parents’ deaths, you disappeared from the Wizarding world. There was no way to contact your guardians to come into Gringotts and sign the proper papers to release your trust fund into your hands. Given what we have learned, that you were residing in the muggle world, there would have been no way for your guardians to sign them regardless. Only a witch or wizard can hear the will of the heir of an Ancient and Noble House and begin the proper arrangements in regards to your inheritance.”



“Perhaps that was for the best,” Harry murmured, looking down at the terribly complicated looking papers with a frown. If his Uncle and Aunt had access to Harry’s money they would have stolen it all and squandered it on Dudley making Harry a pauper if they could. “Could you maybe summarize things and I’ll look this over further on my own.”



“Of course. If you’ll turn to page twenty-five of the will, it will outline first your status as the heir to the house of Potter, assigning you the title when you reach the age of sixteen. Your parents chose this alternative for,” he looked down at his copy of the will and read, “Reasons Harrigan will come to comprehend by then.”



Voldemort, sighed to himself. They knew the prophecy and figured if they died and he somehow survived, he would know about the prophecy by the time he was sixteen.



“Next, the issue of guardianship was to be granted to Lord Sirius Orion Black of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, who was made your godfather during the proper ceremony at your annual. If Lord Black was unable to assume guardianship, it was to be granted to Lord Regan Niallan Roarke of the Ancient and Noble House of Roarke, your great uncle.”



“Roarke, I’ve seen that name before. That’s my grandmother’s family name isn’t it? You mean I have family left, other than my Aunt Petunia? That are still alive?”



“Yes. I sent word to our Ireland branch and was assured Lord Roarke would be present today. Perhaps he was detained but I’m sure he would have sent word if he was unable to attend.”



“I have an Uncle?” A great-uncle actually but that made no difference. Harry gripped the sides of the table in order to rein in his temper. He had family. Living family that would have taken him, given him a real home where he wasn’t treated like something foul that had been scrapped off the bottom of a shoe and his very existence resented.



Did Dumbledore know? Was this another one of his ‘good intentions’? If asked, the wizard would probably claim Harry needed to be with his Aunt for the blood protections but any understanding he had was now gone. He had family, living breathing family, and Dumbledore had possibly kept him from knowing.



Both attendees gave Harry time to compose himself, Colfax placing a comforting hand on his shoulder while Gardip shuffled papers around. “I think we should move on from guardianship,” Harry whispered, his voice scratchy from emotion. Colfax poured him a glass of water, which Harry accepted with a thanks. He took several deep swallows before returning to the topic. “It doesn’t matter anymore. I’m too old for a guardian now, anyway.” Hopefully he would have the opportunity to meet his great uncle today but if not, Harry could seek him out on his own later now that he knew of the wizard’s existence.



“Certainly, my Lord,” Gardip replied and turned the page. “Your parents made several bequests, however, due to the War, many of the recipients are unable to claim the inheritance. We can make arrangements for their heirs to receive the gifts instead if you wish.”



“Yes, that’s fine.”



“The there a is one particular bequest you should be made aware of, in regards to Remus Lupin. You may not be aware of this but as a registered werewolf, Mr. Lupin is unable to claim any monetary or property inheritance over five hundred galleons.”



“What! That’s not fair!”



“Yes, but it is the law the Ministry has in place for any Dark Creature. However, your father has managed a way around that ruling by leaving arrangements for the Marauders Foundation. It would be housed within one of the Potter properties near Exmoor, a small private manor enclosed by a forest preserve. This is to be a sanctuary for those afflicted by the lycanthropy virus. You are to head the board of directors, along with twelve others of your choosing, granting full operation of the Foundation to Remus Lupin with a monthly salary of one thousand pounds. Twenty million galleons are to be placed in a Foundation vault for use and you were to be responsible for maintaining a working income.”



“Way to get around the fucking idiots, Dad,” Harry murmured, but not softly enough for he jerked up at Mr. Colfax’s chuckle. “Sorry.” Harry could imagine the good the Marauders Foundation could do for the werewolf population and not only that, but remove potential allies from Voldemort in the process.



“Not at all, my Lord. Your father had a delightful aptitude for thumbing his nose at authority. Especially the Ministry. I believe it was a Potter family trait.”



“Good to know I come by my disgust of the Ministry honestly.”



“Yes, bigotry in any form was detested by the Potters.”



“The next bequest was to Lord Black, however as his heir, those items shall remain with you. We will get to the reading of your godfather’s in a moment. We will also ensure the Longbottom heir, Lady Bones and Lady Davis receive their bequests as I stated before.” Gardip closed the will, setting it aside.



“Next we have the inheritance you received from Lord Black. Unfortunately, though you were declared Lord Black’s heir when he became his godson as you are not a Black by blood you are unable to inherit the title. It has passed on to Mr. Malfoy, son of Narcissa Malfoy nee Black.”



The title was all that important to Harry, he just hated that Malfoy inherited anything from Sirius. “It doesn’t matter.”



“Oh, it mattered a great deal to Lord Black, I believe. When he received the title he was quite furious to learn what your godfather had done.”



Harry noted the viciously satisfied gleam in Gardip’s tiny eyes and felt a tremor of delight of his own. It would be just like Sirius to get one over on the rest of his family even in death. “What did he do?”



“While a respectable title, the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black is quite bankrupt.”



The high pitched cackle of joy Harry released would have amused Sirius Black immensely. In fact as he threw back his head and roared with laughter, it was the lightest Harry had felt since watching his godfather fall to his death. “Oh Padfoot, you marauder you,” Harry murmured as he finally settled down to an occasional giggle.



“Yes, after some rather large endowments, Sirius left the remainder of the Black fortune, totaling approximately ten billion galleons in liquid assets and property. A new vault, number 13P, an extension of one of the Potter family vaults, was opened by Gringotts for this inheritance. Lord Black was forced to leave the minimum balance of two hundred thousand galleons in the Black coffers as stipulated by their House laws.”



“I wish I could have been there to see Malfoy’s face.” The ferret would have been in rare form once he realized that his so called enemy would have escaped with the prize leaving Malfoy with a useless title. It would almost be worth the detention to antagonize Malfoy about his lack of fortune.



“Now, I believe Mr. Colfax as the Potter steward can better explain the estate and its entailments. He has been under Wizarding Oath while employed as trustee over them.”



Colfax sat straighter in his chair, adjust his tie a minute bit as the attention was now focused on him. “Yes. As I began earlier, my family has resided in Deckmoor for many generations my Lord, one of the many families that reside on the Potter lands.”



“Where is this Deckmoor?”



“Near Minehead on a prominent hill top overlooking the Bristol channel. It is unplottable and under the same enchantments as Hogwarts, so most muggles who live in the area or any tourists will only see the cliff and feel a pressing need to return to Minehead.”



“How many families reside on the Deckmoor lands?”



“At the last census count, one and fifty families and a total of five hundred citizens currently occupy Deckmoor. We have very few muggle-born families but many mixed heritage households. Deckmoor is after all a small self sufficient town much like Hogsmeade. Your major products are Cheviot and Dartmoor sheep bred for both meat and wool and we are the chief suppliers of each to the Wizarding world. Any extra harvested crops from the farms are sold at market and the profits fed back into the Deckmoor co-op.



Deckmoor raises peregrine falcons as well as eagle owls for prominent Wizarding households. You have major interests in prominent greenhouses, a vineyard in Tuscany that bottles its own Wizarding and muggle labels of wines as well as premium olive oil. Your family holds shares in many businesses, the last purchased, a majority share in the Nimbus Racing Broom Company by your father the day he discovered your mother was pregnant with you.”



His father, the Quidditch obsessed, Harry thougth with a smile. “Your liquid assets last quarter were just over twenty five point nine billion galleons. Your total wealth, including Griffin Keep the Potter family seat, other real estate properties and goods is well over two hundred billion galleons.”



“And you’ve been in charge of the Potter estate all of this time?” Harry looked at the quiet unassuming man with a new appreciation. To be in charge of such wealth was a massive undertaking, the intelligence and business acumen needed was beyond anything Harry was capable of. It would take years of study and practice before he would be capable of taking the reins.



“Yes, my Lord. The trust your father placed in my hands has been a honored duty to uphold. All of the citizens of Deckmoor follow the Potter maxim, familia fideles defendit.”



“Family protects the faithful ones,” Harry smiled at the adage. He didn’t have to wonder why his parents had gone into hiding at Godric’s Hallow. His father would never put the people of Deckmoor in danger from Voldemort as it was his responsibility to protect them.



“Perhaps a small break is in order, Lord Harry,” Gardip suggested, as almost an hour had already passed and they were merely touching upon the highlights of his inheritance.



“Yes, I think I’m on information overload. I never realized my family had accumulated such wealth.” Harry leaned back in his chair, resisting the urge to loosen the knot at his throat for much needed relief.



“I think now would be a good time to introduce you to your personal valet,” Colfax offered. “Would that be satisfactory, my Lord?”



He had a valet like Whimsy? “I guess,” he answered slowly, a bit wary of a replica of the slightly bossy house elf that had clothed him.



“Hobbes,” Colfax snapped his fingers and an instant later the house elf appeared.



“Yes, Mr. Colfax?”



The little elf was nothing like Dobby or Winky, nor Kreacher or Whimsy. Though dressed similarly to Whimsy in a toga, his was in black with crimson trim and what was probably the Potter coat of arms just beneath his right shoulder.



“This, Hobbes, is your Lord Harrigan James Potter. Lord Harry, your valet, Hobbes.”



Large eyes lit with joy as a bright smile spread across his face before he performed a low bow. “You carry the family genes well, Master Potter.”



This time Harry was reduced to blank astonishment at the crisp clear English the house elf had spoken. It amused Colfax immensely. “As I said, my Lord. Your family abhorred bigotry on all levels. The Potter house elves are all educated, something many that fell out of fashion with many pureblood families.”



“It is nice to meet you Hobbes. And please, call me Harry.” Perhaps Hermione wouldn’t skin him alive for having house elves for servants.



“It is an honor to assume my responsibilities, my Lord.”



“Yes, um,” he faltered, then remembered why they had taken the break in the first place. “Perhaps you could refresh our tea?”



“Of course,” Hobbes went to snap his fingers when Harry stopped him.



“Oh, and maybe you could not tell a certain house elf named Dobby that you’re my valet. He’s a little excitable and I don’t want to hurt his feelings.”



“Certainly, Master Harry.”



When he was gone, Colfax said, “Hobbes and his family have served as valet to the Potter Lords for many years. If you need anything, you only have to ask Hobbes. He welcomes the opportunity to sever the new Potter Lord. Also if you need to reach me when I’m back at Deckmoor, you may send word with Hobbes if the matter is more urgent than usual owl mail.”



“I know you have many responsibilities at Deckmoor but I was hoping we could set aside some time soon where we can speak. There are things I need to learn and with the War, I want to make sure that Deckmoor is protected from Voldemort and his Death Eaters.”



Colfax placed a hand on his arm, calming in it’s reassurance, and much needed considering the turbulent emotions breaking over him all at once. “I can come here to Hogwarts each weekend to begin your instruction if you like.”



“That sounds agreeable and I would like nothing more than to jump right in but there’s just so many things going on right now with lessons, my training. I don’t want to be overwhelmed and make mistakes that could affect other people’s lives.”



“I can remain steward until you’re ready to assume full control of the Potter assets my Lord. In the meantime, you’re able to learn and trust that your assets are looked after by myself and Gringotts as well.”