Chapter 27

Gringotts Bank

Last Will and Testament Reading of Lady Angela Cassiopeia Previtte

Account manager: This will be the shortest Will reading in all of history if I have to go according to this woman's wishes.

Guard: Stupid human demands.

The two goblins stood and discussed the last wishes of the last Lady of Previtte. According to them it was a waste of time to even call for the people mentioned in her Last Will.

But alas, they had a duty to themselves and the bank. Money was to be made and profit was profit. No matter how small or large the sum.

Account manager: Good day to you all. Thank you for coming at such short notice. Here now follows the Last Will and Testament of the late Lady Angela Cassiopeia Previtte.

If I call your name please remain seated. If your name is not mentioned, please leave. This is a private reading, not an open one.

The Account Manager gave the attending people a few seconds to leave on their own if they did not belong, but nobody moved.

Account Manager: Very well. Mr A.P.B.W Dumbledore. Mr B Weasley, Mr C Weasley, Mr P Weasley, Mr F and Mr G Weasley, Mr, R Weasley and Miss G.M Weasley.

The count of people to be present is 8. I count 11 people. If your name was not called then leave.

Weasley Solicitor: I am here on behalf of my clients, the Weasley children.

Account Manager: Very well. What are your excuses? None? Then leave.

The account manager said this with a little bit more command in his voice. The extra 3 people bowed their heads and left the office.

Account Manager: I seem to be missing somebody from the list. Where is Mr W Weasley?

Weasley Solicitor: Young Mr Weasley is still in St. Mongo's. He is in the high care unit for magical exposure.

Account Manager: Very well. Let us begin then.

The Account Manager stacked the file in his hand neatly and cleared his throat before he began reading in a monotone voice.

I, Lady Previtte, hereby state my Last Will and Testament to be accurate and true. I am under no pressure and am of sound mind.

To my only living grandchildren I leave the following according to their status in life.

William Weasley, eldest son of the Weasley Clan.

To you my dear boy I leave all my books and trophies from around the world. You have gone into the noble trade of Curse Breaking and I believe you will find use for the things I leave to you. Enjoy them and make your name known.

Charles Weasley, second born son of the Weasley Clan.

To you young man, I leave the animal stalls. All that is raised from my manor is now yours. Look after my prized beasts; they will make you a wealthy man.

Percy Weasley, third born son of the Weasley Clan.

You have always been a soft spot for me. You carry your pride for all to see and hold true to your beliefs. To you I leave my seat in the ORDER. You will carry the financial part and keep the ORDER as a worthy cause it is. You will do great things with the Weasley name. DO NOT CHANGE WHO YOU ARE.

Fred and George Weasley,( joined birth) fourth sons of the Weasley Clan.

My tricksters, you came into this world holding on to each other for dear life. You carry the mantle of the last Clan Twins for this era. I find myself at a point where I cannot find it in me to deny you your dreams. On the eve of your sixteenth birthdays you will receive the lump sum of 100 000 Galleons to do with as you please, though we all know that it will be spent to fund you joke shop or the inventions you both so love to work on. Give the world something to remember you by, one laugh at a time.

Ronald Weasley, last born son of the Weasley Clan.

You have shown from an early age that you will be a very EMOTIONAL young man one day. You were always quick to anger and could carry a grudge for months. But it was your need for jealousy and greed that brings me to this point. To you my boy, I leave the manor and all that is within it. You wished to be in the same shoes as the people you so envied, now you shall have that. Never again will you want for anything from another person. You will however have to work in keeping your wealth and good fortune for I am only leaving you with 1 000 000 Galleons. The rest is up to you.

Ginerva Weasley, ONLY born female to the Weasley Clan.

You my dear child hold the future of the LADIES of Previtte and Weasley in your small hands. With you, we will either live on, or fall out of history. I am not stating that you may not marry to inherit what is due, but you will have to be the LADY of whatever house you end up with by the age of 45 to inherit your Birth right from me. I leave you with the wealth of the Ladies.

My account manager will see to it that all my wishes will be fulfilled in accordance to this WILL.

Account Manager: This is all that the children need to hear. Is there any questions?

Nobody said a word; they were all in different states of disbelief.

Where was the BAT LADY?

The Grandmother from hell?

The Weasley kids and the Weasley Solicitor left the office and walked to the Three Broomsticks Pub where they used the Flu point, their destination, The Burrow.

Account Manager: Mr Dumbledore, your side of the Will reading is slightly different from how we usually do things.

But seeing as how the Lady Previtte was such a highly appreciated client all these years, we have decided to allow the PENCIEVE viewing.

Whatever is said in it will be for your eyes and ears only, as the memory has a secrecy clause to it.

Whenever you are ready, you may proceed to enter the memory.

Dumbledore nodded his head and placed his hand into the Solicitor's pensive on the Account Manager's table.

His eyes glazed over as he fell into the memory and for the next half hour he sat there as if in a trance.

When Dumbledore finally emerged from the memory, he had a very sinister smile to his lips and an over active twinkle to his eyes.

Dumbledore: I am to ask for the envelope and the keys to vault 21786. Furthermore I am to remind you of your oath of secrecy to the Ladies of Previtte and Weasley. As long as there is a female to either of these names, your oath holds true.

The Account Manager simply nodded his head and handed over a large brown envelope.

Inside Dumbledore found a slim, leather bound booklet and a plain golden ring.

When he opened the booklet to see what was written inside, he was met with a single sentence on the first page.


Dumbledore smiled and closed the booklet. He placed it within the folds of his robes and turned to the waiting goblin.

Dumbledore: Vault 21786 if you please.

The Account Manager simply nodded his head and walked to the door. He continued down the hall to where the vault carts could be seen.

Account Manager: This cart driver shall take you to the required vault. It is linked to the ring you found in the envelope. If I were to give one piece of advice, put it on now, before you get to the vault.

And with that the Account Manager turned his back to the cart and walked back to his office to finish up the paper work to the Will reading.

There were some big sums of money to be paid over to new accounts and deeds to be sent to new owners of the different areas of the last Lady Previtte.

Account Manager: At least I am making a neat profit from this bloody farce…

Meanwhile down in vault 21786…

Dumbledore hated every second he had to spend in these god forsaken carts. It messed his hair up and tangled his beard around his neck to the point of suffocating him sometimes.

But what awaited him inside the vault left to him was worth every second.

Before him was the biggest pile of gold he has ever seen, along with some of the rarest books on Witchcraft and Hexing in existence.

Dumbledore could not help himself as he jumped into the pile of gold and just sat there and giggled like a school girl.

From deeper inside the vault Dumbledore heard a female laughing, calling to him.

Angela's portrait: I should have known you would like the little gift I left to you, my dear lover.

Angela's portrait pointed to an overly decorated throne chair, studded with diamonds pearls rubies and emeralds. Covered with the finest raw silk and framed with the most delicate Elder tree wood.

Dumbledore: OH my love, how I missed your sweet voice all these years. And yes, your gift to me is most generous. I never thought that your wealth has become so vast. You have kept secrets from me.

Dumbledore said this as he sat down in the throne like chair. Moving around to get the feel of the chair, he finally smiled and nodded to her to explain herself to him.

Angela's portrait: (hahahaha.) Look who is talking about secrets. How was your last night with my whore daughter? I would imagine she was good in bed, seeing as how she bore you a son. Ronald Bilious Weasley. Only you can come up with such a ridiculous name.

Dumbledore: Do I sense jealousy from you my dear?

Angela's portrait: Don't be daft Albus. I have long ago grown tired of your sex. I just never thought you would stoop low enough to exchange mother for daughter. But alas, your suitcase of surprises keeps surprising. But enough of that, you have seen but a fraction of what I have available to you. You were in the sitting when my Last Will and Testament was read were you not?

Dumbledore: Yes I was there, what are you talking about Angela?

Angela's portrait: (hahahaha). Such nativity from a man of your stature. Do you even know where my fortune hails from? Have you ever even taken the liberty of researching my name?

Dumbledore: Previtte is not such an old name my dear. Even being the last LADY of Previtte should not have left you in this state of wealth.

Angela's portrait: Tssk tssk tssk. Dumbledore, Dumbledore, Dumbledore. REALLY? You think Previtte was my only name? You poor, poor man. Disillusions like that could get you killed. Do yourself the favour of walking past me and look at the family tree on the back of my portrait.

Dumbledore got up from his throne like chair and walked behind the portrait. What he saw there gave him the biggest scare of his life.

His heart rate rose so quickly, he had the very real experience of having a heart attack.

Calming himself with THREE of his laced Lemon Drops, he sat down on the ground behind the painting and looked.

Angela's portrait: From your stunned silence I take it you finally GET what I am trying to explain to you?

Dumbledore: But how? Where did you even get the time to marry so many men?

Angela's portrait: I was 138 years old when I died Albus. I was the wife to 56 different men. Of those 56 men I only fell pregnant with John Alexander Previtte.

All the others met with "SUITABLE" ends to their abusive lives. I made sure to marry the filthy rich arseholes of the society.

The ones who wanted a "DOLL" on their arm at all the important functions, an obedient wife to do as her husband demanded.

Well I was that wife; I danced the game to perfection.

I kissed political ass and flirted like a common whore when needed.

I was the cover image of the perfect socialite wife.

Oh I had my good days and then I had the days other woman would have killed themselves for.

My face saw more punches and curses than a fully trained Auror.

I had a private room in St. Mongo's especially for me with 24/7 staff.

The men in my life were the worst of their kind and I relished in their pain as I disposed of them ONE by ONE.

Dumbledore: Is that an admittance to murder my dear? I would hate to have your well laid plans go to waste by allowing the law my memory of this conversation…

Dumbledore sat down on his throne and began stroking his long white beard. He had a twinkle in his eye and a plan in his head. GREED was his favourite emotion.

Angela's portrait: Greed always was your favourite colour Albus, but not this time. You see the moment you stepped into this vault with that ring on your finger; you sealed an oath of fealty to me. No matter what I say, or what happens in here, you cannot repeat ANY of it in any way to anybody else.

You see, you are not the only one who can think ahead and plot plans.

OUR little project to your son is well documented within these walls. Every step you took and every piercing cry from Ronald's little baby lips has been documented and sealed here.

Every conniving plan you ever thought of is in here. Even the ones you are planning now.

Dumbledore: You are bluffing! My Oclumency shields are way too strong for ANY form of invasion or copy.

Angela's portrait: I have to agree with you on that Albus. Your shields are VERY strong to those who seek specific information.

Yet when you seek different information in ways that confuses your mind, then your shields are up to shit.

It is a simple matter to get you to subconsciously THINK about certain days, moments, emotions or even somebody else for just a split second.

One of my husbands was a GRAND MEISTER at the MIND ARTS. He used to rape my mind for his own pleasure. Send me to brothels under the IMPURIOUS curse, make me do despicable things and then relive them through my EYES. Day in and day out.

I learned through his mistakes and soon I could bluff a whole night's illusion to him, screams and all.

His death was the grandest.

Pure bloods are such creatures of habit. Simple nudges in the right direction and he saw himself in the hands of some VERY creative characters down KNOCKTURN ALLEY. Begging for them to do their worst to him and flaunting his money to them.

Hungry men would do amazing thing for a few Galleons.

He was found the next day cut up in pieces with a smile to his face.

Dumbledore: My gods' woman, you say that with so much pride that the image actually scares me.

Angela had a gleam to her eyes as she told her tales of husbands, but it was not the memories that had her eyes shining.

It was watching Albus try to remove the ring from his finger behind his long beard that had her smiling like a demented person.

Angela's portrait: I wouldn't try that for much longer if I were you Albus. The ring has been sealed to your magic. Even if you were to cut off that finger, the ring would simply move to the next finger. Cut off the hand, it would move to the next hand. Cut off that hand it would move to your toes. So on and so forth.

I would leave it to your imagination to where it would end up if you were to cut off the feet.

And no, you would not be able to reattach the removed parts of your anatomy.

Dumbledore: You were a clever woman Angela, but what prevents me from simply destroying everything here?

Angela's portrait: Your magic Albus.

You are tied to this vault. You accepted it when you accepted that ring, when you Lorded yourself in that throne. You belong to me now and there is nothing you can do to change that. You may come and go as you please, use as much money as your little greedy hands can spend, but you will always come back here at night.

The vault has features to it that allows you to enter ant any time of day or night.

Your debt to me will be your desires. Every wicked thought in your head will belong to me.

I will be your PENSIVE.

Dumbledore: And if I refuse? Take my own life? How will you stop me?

Dumbledore was actually sweating now. He did not want to be bound to this crazy woman like this. He was Albus Dumbledore! He bowed to no one.

Angela's portrait: You can think me a crazy woman as much as you like Albus, it matters little to me.

Yes I know what you think and the answer is simple.

You value your life too much to consider suicide.

And you have too many plans in that head of yours with this money to even think of staying away.

You have your life and freedom to do as you please Albus. All I demand in return is your memories of every day you live through my money.

The moment you DEPOSIT your thoughts, you may leave again.

Is that really so much to ask for all that which is behind you, and so much more?

Dumbledore was silent for many minutes before he got to his feet and walked to the heaps of Galleons behind him.

Getting to his knees he scooped up both hands full of the golden delights and inhaled their wealthy goodness.

Dumbledore: I take it I will be selling my soul to the Devil in other words? How much money is involved in this trade?

Angela's portrait: The last time I ran an audit on my wealth, my Account Manager was busy for 4 days.

That was inside this vault only. Once you have worked through this one, IF YOU CAN, then there are 3 more filled even more than this one waiting for you or whomever you entrust them to.

You are not as young as you would like to Albus, but I have a solution to that for you.

Dumbledore: I am listening.

And just like that, with those simple words, Albus Dumbledore sold his soul to the Devil herself in exchange for the wealth of a mad woman.

Angela spoke of riches beyond his wildest dreams, potions that would keep him young and strong, things he never heard of was shown to him in plain sight inside the vault. Potions tested on rats for him to see that it worked. He even saw a man being de-aged to a baby right before his eyes.

Angela's portrait: You will live up to the age of 600 years. That is all that your core will allow. After your 600th year you will begin to age as normal and eventually die as a mortal man.

Only Mother MAGIC Herself can break this bond and the spells I have given you, so be warned to stay clear of being discovered by Her or Her champion.

Dumbledore: How do you… Never mind, I thought of it and you saw it in my head.

I will bide my time and rid this world of impurities one day at a time. It is for the GREATER GOOD that I must succeed in this quest laid before me. The prophecy states clearly that I will be the one to defeat the great evil which is to come. Harry Potter is but a tool for me to use to the end.

Angela simply smiled and nodded her head a she listened to the man before her rant and rave about his lot in life. Albus signed his life away the day he impregnated her daughter with that bastard boy. She manipulated him into carving the runes into the bones of an infant but a few days old.

Playing on the idea of the prophecy calling for it to happen, to encourage the BOY WHO LIVED to be overly forgiving to a friend who just needs a little more than just friendship.

Her fortune indeed ended with this vault, but her plans ran deeper than just a few million Galleons. She wanted the fortunes of every vault that touched hers. And she knew every name that was linked to every vault she wanted.

Death Eaters had no right to be in society, their wealth could be used for so much more that a petty WAR between a BOY and TWO Megalomaniacs.

Angela watched as Albus stacked coins and tried to could out one of the heaps he sat on.

He was acting like a child with a sand castle and she could only smile at the simplicity behind the gesture.

Dumbledore would live long enough to make a substantial dent in her fortune, but he would pay back every Knut with his life essence.

The very thing that kept her "ALIVE" within her special portrait.