21) A growing understanding

AU: beginning at the close of OOTP. My stab at Harry/Hermione, though as I've said before: I'm old, I'm a teacher, and they're kids. I kind of get skeeved thinking of kids being romantic.

WARNING: Tropes galore. I don't like Dumbledore's or the usual Weasleys' characters. I've mucked about with timeline changes mostly because I've not read book 6 or 7 in like forever, so there's that. Also, there's a bit of a head canon that I've got going. You'll see it if you've read some of my other garbage.

There are parts of this that are a back and forth, long distance communication thing. It's very easy to format that in Word. I'm not sure what I'm going to do with it in . I'm guessing that I'll rely on the two of you that peruse this to attempt to figure out who's saying what… alas.

Finally, as I post this, it is complete. I might not get all the chapters up right away – see formatting thing above – but I will endeavor to complete it with all alacrity. Wait, I'm typing like I'm in the Jane Austen fic group. Sorry 'bout that.

~ ~ beginning of story, or Part 1~ ~

Harry had a look of worry on his face, alongside his grief, and Neville's heart ached for his friend.

"Ok, there, Harry?"

Harry shook his head, clearing his thoughts. "I should be asking you that."

"Oh, my nose is fine. My gran contacted me – she's actually proud about what we did. Ginny and Luna are both right as rain. It'll all be fine, you'll see."

But Harry couldn't see, not just then. "Ron's gone to St. Mungo's for healing because of those brains, while Hermione is still under Madame Pomphrey's tender mercies. I've never seen Madame Pomphrey look so worried, not even when I got bit by a basilisk."

"She'll pull through, Harry. Hermione's too stubborn not to."

"I just don't understand. It's not that Ron's injury wasn't bad, but… Hermione almost died, Nev! Why would they leave her with a school mediwitch instead of sending her to Mungo's, like Ron? It's second year all over again, wait for the mandrakes, we can't possibly order them when we have some coming in a few months. How can they do this to her?" Harry's frustration and worry lent desperation to his voice. His hands clenched with fury, though he didn't know where to direct it except at himself. If he hadn't been so stupid. If he hadn't just fallen for Voldemort's ruse. If he had opened Sirius's Christmas gift. If… If… If…

But Neville didn't notice Harry's fury. He had his own thoughts that he tried to align.

"She's… how do I say this?" Neville hesitated.

"Just say it," Harry stated, exasperated.

"She's unprotected muggleborn," Neville spit the words out, understanding the inherent insult and disgusted by it. "Mungo's won't take or treat her."

"Unprotected? I mean, I get the muggleborn part, but unprotected?"

"Well, she's your friend, but you've never claimed your Lord ring. I mean, you're young, but I think last year's tournament would have made it so you could claim it. It's why I half-thought you entered yourself: to claim your family. When you didn't, immediately, I knew you hadn't entered yourself." Neville mused, thinking back.

"What difference would it make?" Harry asked, confused.

"Well, you could claim her as part of your house. Protected. Betrothed, if you felt that way about her at all."

"Betrothed? Like married?!" Harry wasn't as completely put off by the idea as he seemed. When he thought of a future, if he ever did, he couldn't see a future without Hermione in it. That, more than anything, told him how important she was.

She had to get better. She just had to!

"Oh," Neville continued, "it's more like a promise to… I don't know, put each other first? And it protects you and her both from unwanted contracts. You can make it so either one of you can cancel it at 17, but until then, she'd be part of your house. But only if you claim your house, first," Neville ended in a garbled manner that somehow, Harry followed.

"Where do I do all of this stuff? Claiming family and betrothing witches and stuff." He said inwardly rolling his eyes. Soon, they'd have him don some suit of armor and go out to fight a dragon… wait…

"Merlin's beard, Harry, hasn't anyone explained anything to you? You can claim your house either in the ministry or at Gringotts. Most do it at the ministry, in the 'Gamot, so they can..."

"Be showy?" Harry finished with a bit of a laugh. It was the first time he'd smiled in weeks.

"Yeah," Neville grinned, "that. I plan on doing it at Gringotts just in case it doesn't take right off. I mean, I can claim my family, but the ring is rigorous, you know?" Harry didn't but he nodded and took note: claim the family, but not the ring until you're ready. "So, I'm going to claim my family this summer, when I turn 16 because my dad is… well… and then I'll take the ring at 17 when I've had a full year of being The Longbottom under my belt."

Harry chewed on his lip.

"So, I claim my house, somehow tie Hermione to my house, then she can get treatment?"

"Yeah, but I wouldn't take her to Mungo's. I'd go to either Clinia Magica in Barcelona or Magical Mayo Clinic in Minneapolis – that's in the States. Both are better overall than Mungo's, and Mayo might even take her without the betrothal. Or maybe not because her parents are muggles and MACUSA is really weird about the statute. Anyway. When I'm of age, I'm going to take my parents to one of those. My gran is all 'British is best,' but I just don't think so."

They chatted a while longer, Harry asking Neville questions and Neville doing his best to answer. Finally, Harry looked suspiciously at Neville.

"Say, why haven't you ever explained this stuff to me before?"

Nev looked uncomfortable, "I'm not sure..." He hesitated but Harry's eyes didn't waver, demanding an answer. Neville sighed. "Well, Ron doesn't let much of anyone talk to you, and he hates this stuff… being last in a very long line for the head of a house that, though ancient, is a long way off from noble, he either doesn't care or cares a lot and… well, Ron doesn't like when anyone talks family magics or politics."

Harry processed the stated and unstated. Ron's jealousy had sabotaged Harry's place in the magical world, yet again. From the time he'd met the red head, Harry'd become intensely stupid around the guy. Accepting a wizarding duel? Riding in a flying car? Taking divination, for Pete's sake? He shook his head.

"So, who should I ask for? At Gringotts?"

"The inheritance department. Wait." Neville dug through his trunk. "Here's a book on goblin protocols you can study up on. Don't offend them or they'll make it harder for you to get your inheritance."

~ ~ this is a scene break ~ ~

After perusing carefully Neville's book on banking and Gringotts, Harry put it down on a list of books to purchase for himself, along with a good book on contract law. He sat in the library, preparing to pen three critical letters.

Account Manager for the Potter accounts, Gringotts

Sir,

I apologize if this letter is not proper in format or function. I have simply never been educated in the proper way to interact with the Nation or bank. My interactions with you have also been limited by forces outside my control.

I would like to make an appointment with the inheritance department or with the Potter accounts manager, whichever makes more sense, to begin to understand my rights and responsibilities as an account holder. The easiest day for me to do this will be Tuesday afternoon, as I will be in London disembarking from the Hogwarts Express.

Please let me know the specifics as to whom I may speak with and what time I should arrive.

Yours in mutual profit

Harry J. Potter

Thinking on it, Harry had decided that 15 almost 16 was old enough that the Dursleys could tell the neighbors he was making his own way back to the house. That was "normal," right? Might even win him some brownie points with his aunt and uncle. Sure.

Aunt Petunia,

I hope this letter finds you and the family well. I am writing to tell you that I do not need you to pick me up at the train station. I am going to either get a ride with friends or take the train. I will be late because of this, but I think that Uncle Vernon will be pleased that he doesn't have to be inconvenienced.

I am working on a way to leave your house as soon as is possible this summer so as to inconvenience you less, also.

Harry J Potter.

The letter to Hermione's parents was harder to write, but just as important.

Mr. and Mrs. Granger,

I hope the manner of this letter won't alarm you. I am Harry, and Hermione is my best friend. I don't know what the school has told you, but Hermione's been hurt. She's being attended to by our school healer. As I've had to take advantage of that woman's skills in the past, I can attest that Hermione is getting decent care.

I think I know enough of you, through Hermione, to believe that you would agree with me: Decent care is nowhere near enough for Hermione. She deserves the best of care. But there is an issue – the blood politics of the wizarding world will not allow for Hermione, a muggle-born, to be attended to in our highest houses of healing.

You can't be any more angry about this than I am: aside from Hermione being my best friend, my own mother was muggle born. Sometimes, I really hate the magical world.

So, as with all stupid rules, there is a loophole. It's not one that I would like to put in a letter. I would like it very much if I might stop by your residence the evening that we return from school. I plan on taking care of some business in London before-hand, and checking if my thoughts on the loophole are correct. As I've been advised by someone I trust (who is more knowledgeable than I am), I hope for success.

Please send a return letter via my owl, Hedwig. I've instructed her to wait for you to write two notes, one for Hermione, of course, and just a short note to me, to let me know if I can stop by or not.

Sorry for rambling.

Harry J Potter

His owl waited for him in the owlery, somehow knowing, as she always did, that he needed her. "Hey, girl, you're the best," She preened as he fed her an owl treat. "Hedwig, please fly to Gringotts for the first letter, on to Privet Drive, to my aunt, and give her this letter." He tied the first two letters to one leg. "After she's taken it, fly straight to Hermione's parents with the third letter. Wait for their reply. They should send two letters: one for me and one for Hermione. Ok?" The owl nodded, picked a bit at his hair, then flew back out of the window.

Harry went to the dining room to satisfy his hunger – he'd missed lunch that day – but he didn't talk to anyone, and at this point in his life, he was used to the stares. The headmaster stared as much as any of the students did, but Harry noticed none of it as he read through the goblin book, more thoroughly this time.

He had a little more than a day before he'd be leaving, but he started to get his things together early anyway. He'd no idea where the firebolt was, and since he couldn't fly right now, he'd not bother McGonagall (who was still in the hospital wing) with that. Half the money from his purse seemed to be gone, which was strange, as well as his copy of Quidditch Through the Ages and the chocolate frog cards he'd been saving. He didn't want to suspect anything, but when Dobby came to pack Ron's things, he asked the elf to look through for those items.

Harry had been sitting on his bed, changing his shoes. (They'd gotten awfully wet when he was out walking that morning, but he was glad he'd taken the long walk, as Gringotts' owl confirming his appointment had found him on the other side of Black lake. At least that correspondence would remain secret, for now.) He sat, dumbfounded, as Dobby began returning his possessions from deep in the maws of Ron's second compartment. He looked ridiculous: one wet sock in his off hand, his other foot still fully shod and soaking, watching while Dobby made a neat pile next to him on the bed. Harry got back the things he knew was missing and several other things, like a pair of his quidditch gloves and the flute Hagrid'd made him. He now had more than enough reason to suspect that Ron was taking his money, too.

But he wouldn't yell at Dobby about that. He'd watched Dobby finding all of Ron's things scattered around and wondered about the little elf who'd been cleaning all of Gryffindor tower all year.

"Dobby, how are you doing?" Harry asked, genuinely interested.

"Great Master Harry Potter, sir, asks how Dobby is doing? Great Master Harry Potter is the bestest wizard of Dobby's time. Dobby is fine."

"Do you like working for the headmaster? Is freedom what you want, really?"

Dobby pulled his ear, prevaricating.

"Please, Dobby. You know I grew up muggle. Can you explain it to me?"

"Elvsies need a contract, Great Master Harry Potter, sir. Wes be mades of magic. If wes don't have contract, magic eats us up and we go back to magics, sir."

Harry was gobsmacked.

"So, I killed you by freeing you?" he asked, horrified.

Dobby smiled shyly and moved closer to Harry, realizing the little master thought he'd hurt Dobby. "Old masters would have killed Dobby with lots and lots of pain. They liked to make Dobby hurt. If Dobby choose, Dobby would rather burn out from magic than be killed by dumb Malfoys."

"Is the contract with the Headmaster enough to save you?"

Dobby pulled his ear again. It was an obvious tell.

"Dobby, I would like you to tell me what I can do to help you stay alive and healthy."

Dobby hemmed and hawed. And then he came to a decision. "Dobby wants to be Great Master Harry Potter, sir's, elf. If Great Master Harry Potter, sir, accepted Dobby as Potter elf, then Dobby would lives long times. All other Potter elvsies had good lives until Snake man and Stupid Eaters attacked Potter house."

From this, Harry took the idea that his parents, or grandparents, had elves and treated them well. 'Well, Hermione,' Harry thought, 'Sorry about this.'

"Okay, Dobby. Your wish is my command. Tell me what I have to do to bring you into my house as my elf and my friend," Harry said in resignation. The elf bounced happily then explained the simple procedure. Following the directions carefully, Harry found himself the older brother of a very energetic house elf.

At least, that's how he felt. He'd never be comfortable being a master.

"Dobby, are there any good books that explain about house elves and other sentient magical creatures? Not like the fantastical beasts book, but more…"

Dobby drooped. "Dobby not know. Dobby look?"

Harry hesitated, then thought that maybe his plan of shopping the following afternoon would be nixed by the Great Dumbledore or the Order of the Minions. They never let him go anywhere, even the alley, despite the fact that he lived there for a month before third year. Well. He'd have to channel that Slytherin the hat saw in him to get his own way from now on. No more charge-in Gryffindor.

"You know what? Yeah, I could use some help getting a few books." He brought out the list and his money bag. "Go to whatever bookstores or sources you know about. Don't reveal who your master is. Talk to who you need to talk to and get me these books as efficiently as you can, yeah? I'd like them before I get on the train tomorrow. Oh, and we'll need food for Durskaban. I don't know how long I'll be there, but they don't feed me, so they won't feed you."

Dobby looked grim. "Dobby get books today and get Great Master Harry Potter sir's room ready for Great Master Harry Potter, sir."

Dobby shrunk Ron's trunk to deliver it to wherever it needed delivering (probably the Burrow, since Ginny was also already gone, having been excused from her end of year exams due to injury.)

Harry resolved to get a better trunk with a lock and some different compartments so he could store his stuff better and remove any temptation Ron might have for… borrowing his things.

Why would he take the flute? So weird.

The next morning, armed with the books that Dobby got him and his trunk (shrunken by Dobby add a lot fuller with other random things of his that had seemed to grow feet, but were tracked down by Dobby) in his school bag, Harry made his way to the train. It was going to be a quiet ride. No Weasleys, no Hermione (who had been portkeyed straight home when she was stable enough; Ron was either still in hospital, or he was already home.)

He talked to Neville and Luna, whom he sat with on the train, just a bit, but they were a quiet trio, and Harry spent some time reading. When they got to London, Harry had long since pulled off his robe and put it in his school bag. Opening Hedwig's cage, he sent her off with the note to the Grangers saying he'd be there by six. It was just one now, so he had a bit of time to do what he needed to do.

He noticed the Order members patrolling the platform and that Moody was among them. Using cloak was out. He hastily pulled out a scrap of paper, writing a note

I would appreciate it if the members of the Order would leave me alone. If you do not, I will raise a fit and alert the aurors present that you are trying to kidnap me. Thank you for your help, but I will make my way to Privet Drive on my own.

HJP

He folded the parchment and handed it to Neville who was watching him. "Neville, could you take your time then give this to Moody?"

"Sure, Harry. Have a good summer."

Harry smiled. "You, too."

When Neville had exited the compartment, Harry followed, then ducked to the other side of the train and called Dobby. "Dobby, could you get me to Gringotts without the adults outside knowing?" he asked.

Dobby nodded. "Yes, Master Harry, sir."

Harry sighed. He was trying to get Dobby to call him Harry, but this was the best he could do. The little elf grabbed Harry's hand and popped Harry to the bank's lobby. It was a terribly unpleasant method of transport, and Harry wouldn't do it again by choice (the Knight Bus Horror was actually preferable), but it was nice to have an emergency option.

Harry approached the teller's desk and noted that he had an appointment in half an hour with the Potter Accounts manager, Grimsneer. He apologized for being early and wondered if there was an out of the way area in which he could wait.

The teller grimaced at the child then snarled, "wait."

A few minutes later, Harry was escorted to Grimsneer's office. He sat as he was directed, quietly, without fidgeting.

The silence was heavy as Harry waited for the goblin – Grimsneer – to address him. The clock ticked, but Harry sat straight, patient. Finally, the goblin deigned to address him.

"Well, Mr. Potter, why am I only seeing you now on the cusp of your sixteenth natal day?"

"I apologize, sir. I was not informed until a few days ago that I should have asked to have my parents' will read to me and claimed my family headship," Harry replied in a strong but quiet voice. He kept eye contact and tried to keep a clear facial expression.

"The missives we've sent informed you, several times over," the goblin said, sternly.

"Sir, I've never received mail outside from a few approved sources. I think perhaps Dumbledore approves the sources, but I don't know." Again, Harry kept his voice calm and clear. The goblin's eyes narrowed and he looked at something above Harry's head.

"Hmm," Grimsneer grunted, then nodded shortly. The truth stone – hidden to all but goblin eyes – above the seat indicated clearly that the lad was telling what he knew to be the truth. There was mail fraud to deal with. And there would need to be a full audit on the Potter vaults. More work. And no profit from this work. Whoever did this, chief warlock or no, would pay.

Grimsneer dragged a gnarled finger along the edge of a metal box on his desk. There was a brief glow and an audible click. The box opened, and the goblin pulled out a few documents, handing them to Harry.

"These are your copies of your parents' wills. Well, your father's will and your mother's codicil, as most of the family assets were in your father's name. Pureblood rules. Also, there is a copy of your godfather's will and a book he asked passed to you. Please read them quietly as I have more work to begin that you've given me." As Harry took the parchment, Grimsneer started the orders for audit and an investigation into mail fraud.

Harry took a deep breath before breaking the seal and opening to read.

25 October 1981

I, James Charlus Potter being of sound mind and magic do declare this to be my will and testament.

As part of this sworn statement, I wish it to be known that Peter Andrew Pettigrew was the secret keeper of our home; if we have been betrayed, he was the betrayer. Sirius Orion Black is my brother in all but blood and was not our secret keeper but a decoy.

To Remus Lupin, I leave the deed to Ivy Hill cottage. Mooney, sell it or live in it for the remainder of your life. Please look in on my Harry, make sure he knows only the good stories about me.

To Sirius Orion Black, godfather to my Heir, I leave my half of our shared flat in Lawnmarket, Edinburgh and the responsibility of raising Harry to know his Potter magics and heritage.

To Peter Andrew Pettigrew, should his betrayal not be the cause of my death, I leave a sum sufficient to clear the mortgage on his parents' home and any other debts he has accrued, not to exceed 5000G. If the debt is less than 5000G, the remainder of this sum should be credited to Peter, directly.

Should my death precede that of my wife, Lily Elspeth Evans Potter, and heir, Harry James Potter, then all of my worldly possessions are left to Harry with Lily able to access any moneys or properties needed for the raising of our son. If Harry predeceases Lily, then Lily is to have an allowance of 100 Galleons a month until such time as she remarries or until her death. At that point, the remainder of the estate is to be liquidated and split evenly among the Potter Trust charities.

Should Lily predecease me, and Harry yet lives, he is to go into the custody of the following, in order:

Frank and Alice Longbottom (oath-sworn godmother)

Sirius Orion Black (aforestated oath-sworn godfather)

Mila and Rolf Hasslebach

Minerva McGonagall

If none of these are available, I ask that the wizengamot rule on a proper guardian for the future Lord Potter.

The person or persons who take on the burden of raising our son should have a monthly allotment of 50 Galleons for his care until such time as he reaches majority and can claim the family headship.

All income and outlay of the vaults should be made on an investment strategy that continues to support Potter Trust charities, but does not diminish the vault balance. All rents should be increased as per agreements. Codicils 2 through 4 go into further detail on the handling of the main Potter vault and investment vault.

Harry if you are reading this, know that I love you with all I am and would do anything to remain here on Earth with you. You're the best of me because you're also a part of my beautiful Lily. Look to the family grimoire; read it well. Know your family before you don the ring.

His signature was tall and narrow, barely legible. Harry traced it as he thought on what his father had said and done.

He asked for and received confirmation that all outlays had gone to the intended recipients, except, of course, Peter Pettigrew. That man had lost his parents' home and defaulted on several honor debts when he faked his death.

"Faked his death? You all knew he was alive?" Harry asked, not wanting to interrupt Grimsneer, but needing the truth.

That goblin sighed and lowered his quill. "The bank has been aware that Mr. Pettigrew lived and that he was the impetus behind your family's betrayal. Unfortunately, the only people that can hear the will are people that are named in the will. The only person aside from you who could have heard this will was Remus Lupin, who declined our invitation and simply accepted his inheritance. We at Gringotts are sworn by client confidentiality statements to guard contract details to complete secrecy. That is the reason, Mr. Potter, that so many swear contracts in our halls. They are binding and held in confidence unless the humans involved wish it not to be so."

Harry nodded. All of these years, Sirius could have been free. He could have lived with Sirius.

He was stuck at the Dursleys because of Lupin.

He didn't even know he was able to hear this will and free his godfather. He knew nothing at all.

And that was because of Dumbledore.

His mother's codicil was on the next page. Lily's parchment was much simpler, referring only to her husband's will for direction in reference both to dispersal of funds and properties and to the care of her son. She left some small tokens from her own family to her sister, Petunia, and put a small amount of money aside for her nephew.

She, too, put a personal message to Harry at the end, and referred to an heirloom trunk that was to be placed in the Potter vault upon her death. The only thing not in the trunk she wished him to have was an item – sacred to the Potter family – that Albus Dumbledore had borrowed for study. That man was to return the heirloom to Harry before Harry's twelfth birthday, based on magical oath. Harry remembered he had received the cloak back from Dumbledore that Christmas when he was eleven. He switched back to the main will of his father, the Lord Potter.

He read through the short parchment again, hoping that the trunk his mother referred to held a few more personal notes. The rest of the parchment in the sheaf dealt with investments and rents and charities and Harry would look at it all, especially as he had just been handed an auto-updating copy of the Potter ledger. But goblin time was money, so he dragged his attention back to Grimsneer.

After confirming the that the upkeep funds had been paid out in a regular manner since his parents' death, Harry pointed at the list of guardians on his father's will, indicating them to Grimsneer. "I know McGonagall abdicated her role to Dumbledore, as did Sirius. The Longbottoms are in Mungo's…"

"Actually," the goblin interrupted, "they were available at the time of your parents' death, as were the Hasslebachs. That couple died at almost the same time the Longbottoms were attacked. It was a final push by the Death Eaters. Many wizarding families were ended in that temper tantrum. Though the nation has some quarrel with Dumbledore blocking our missives to you, your eventual placement - wherever he hid you - almost certainly saved your life."

Harry nodded, thinking about the truth of that statement. Perhaps the Dursley's had not been so bad, after all.

The will of Sirius Black, written recently, was short and quite sweet. He left everything to his adopted godson, Harry James Potter. He also left a personal note to Harry. He'd realized that he couldn't be what he was supposed to be. The dementors had just damaged him too much. He also realized a few home truths – he would die soon, as he had an illness that Poppy couldn't treat, and he needed Harry to know that, no matter how he passed, Sirius was at peace with it. He'd made his choices, dealt with the consequences, and wanted Harry to have better. There was more, a diary of sorts where he wrote down things that he thought of when he was coherent to pass on to Harry. Harry would treasure it.

"Let us do your full inheritance spell, before you claim headship." He retrieved a piece of parchment and a needle-like instrument. The needle pricked Harry's middle finger, through which magic directly flowed, according to Grimsneer. As the parchment began to fill, Grimsneer pointed out the inheritances. "Of course, from your father you have the Potter family, magics, and title. From Black you received the Black family and magics. You could take his title, but that would negate the Potter title, as Black has primacy. Alternately, you could hold it for your second-born son by standing as Reagent Black. Ahh, from your mother, you are Earl Gryffindor." Harry started at that, Gryffindor? Earl? Grimsneer laughed riotously at Harry's expression. "It's an empty title, lad. The family magics are long returned to Mother Magic. All the moneys and lands had been turned into the Hogwarts trust when the direct line fell to squibs. The only power you have is there – your word is law in Gryffindor's domain – which is Hogwarts and Hogsmeade and the surrounding countryside. You can fire professors, break any security, and cause general mayhem."

Harry wondered if that was how the map functioned. Had his mother helped his father tie it to wards at the castle?

After reading Sirius's will and note to him, and noting the rules of primacy Grimsneer alluded to, Harry decided to keep the Black wealth separate from his Potter inheritance. He'd keep the Black family magic alive, but he would let the title fall to his second-born son, if he had one. Harry himself would be Lord Harry Potter, Earl Gryffindor. He wondered if he'd have to ask Malfoy for poncy lessons as that moniker definitely screamed poncy.

"Would you like to don the family rings?"

"I would love to, but I know that's not wise. I just took on a great deal of family magics and according to my friend Neville, it might take a bit for it all to blend with my own magics. I'd like to wait on accepting the rings until my magic settles. It's not as though I can vote on the wizengamot right now, anyway."

"Wise decision," Grimsneer grudgingly admitted. This wizard wasn't the most terrible he'd had to deal with. "Is there anything else Gringotts can do for you today?"

"I may be travelling overseas. Is there a way to access my funds outside of straight galleons? And do you have a manner of getting muggle ID that I can use? I need a passport."

Grimsneer eyed the young wizard with disdain. He needed more than just papers to travel.

"Have your elf," at Harry's ill-concealed surprise, Grimsneer… sneered. "Anyone with an eye can see the elf-bond, child. Have your elf go to Tollcroft Travel. You'll want an adventurer's kit. Put your blood on the documentation as directed and it will work in both worlds. If you plan on going to a country where English isn't spoken, have your elf get the translation upgrade.

As for funds," the goblin continued, "Gringotts has an association with Wells Fargo banking globally, and I will have documentation for you as well as a debit card before a moonrise tomorrow. Send your elf to pick it up the day hence."

"Yes, sir," Harry answered respectfully. They had other things to attend to – some contracts (including one he altered heavily, on Grimsneer's advice, for Weasley Wizarding Wheezes, LLC) and bequeathments that had been left to The Boy Who Lived. About half way through the session with a blood quill, Grimsneer noticed the scars on Harry's hand. Harry truthfully told the tale of Delores Umbridge's detentions and answered questions about her use of the goblin-sourced proscribed items. He noted that Grimsneer looked quite… dissatisfied with the explanations, but nothing else was mentioned.

He hoped it would cause no end of trouble for the pink toad.

After an hour or so of signing and reading and signing some more, Harry stood, as he had obviously been dismissed.

"Thank you for your help. Can you have a cart operator take me to the Potter main vault, please?"

Grimsneer grunted, snapped a wizened hand, never looking up from the document he was working on.

Harry entered the much larger (and well organized) vault and almost immediately found the item his mother wanted him to have. It wasn't big enough to be a school trunk, but a quick check showed that it locked and shrunk merely at his command when his hand was on the lock. A quick look through it found, among some other things, handwritten journals and notes, a small library, a few photo albums, and a box with several muggle cassette tapes and a muggle cassette player with a warning card: 'do not play in a magical area!' Harry grinned. It seemed as though this contained all of his parents' school books and notes as well as private journals. Priceless!

Looking around, he found another trunk. It had a directions book and apparently tons of features applied to its three compartments. He would pick this up before school started. If it truly did all this indicated, this would be his new school trunk.

He did look through it, admiring the multiple compartments and storage units in them, and found it mostly empty, with just a short note from his dad saying he hoped that Harry would find this trunk as useful in school as James had. Most of his school notes and books had been given to Lily to put in the 'just in case heirloom trunk'. His father's nimbus broom and quidditch uniform were in the last compartment, and he smiled at them, thinking he'd have the broom checked before taking it through its paces. There was also a leather journal entitled 'The Marauder's Playbook.' Scanning quickly, he saw that it was outlines of pranks they'd pulled and how they'd done it. There was a section for "tools" and there were the directions for all sorts of things, from the map to the mirrors.

The twins would love this. He'd let them make a copy – it wouldn't last forever, but long enough for the twins to get what they wanted out of it. Wishing he could cast tempus, Harry then remembered that he'd put on a watch his Mom had left for him, and, smiling, checked the time to see he still had two hours before he had to get to the Grangers' house.

He looked more, but found not a trace of the family grimoire. It wasn't in Lily's Pod (as he'd decided to name the heirloom trunk. He was pants at naming, but what did it matter?). It wasn't in his dad's trunk, and it wasn't on the bookshelf in the vault (though there were some neat looking things there that, when Harry had time, he'd study in more depth.)

He opened his own school trunk, took out the items he wanted for the summer, and put them in the heirloom trunk his mother left him. Taking out the heavily charmed and enchanted satchel his mum had set aside for his school bag - upper years, he placed Lily's Pod in the satchel. He put the cloak and map in the outside pocket (it was charmed against theft, as the whole bag was.). His new Gringotts wallet went in the front pocket of the satchel, and his vault keys were in that. The wallet was charmed to only be opened by him. (If Grimsneer knew he'd had a simple coin sack as his only money holder until he found the wallet in the pod, he'd have given Harry an (rather, another) earful. Harry was so glad his mum had forethought to gather things he'd need in the magical world!). It was safer in his bag (theftproof) than his cousin's muggle jeans pocket. He'd have to find time this summer to get clothes tailored and charmed in the wizarding world. Or find a place to apply charms to his own clothes, which appealed more to his independent streak. His wand he now had attached to his arm with the dragon-hide holster, again, found in the pod – apparently that and the watch were actually from his dad.

Leaving his old trunk and bag on top of his Dad's trunk, Harry exited the vault, asking if the lobby guard could direct him to the premises of what would soon be the new Wizarding Wheezes store Grimsneer told him he had shares in.

Harry put on his cloak before he exited the bank. He didn't want this little trip squelched by one of the order. With all alacrity, he made his way to the future home of the twins' shop and got them to let him in.

"Partner!" exclaimed Forge.

"Up to no good!" declared Gred.

Harry grinned at them. He had no problem deciphering the twin speak, as so many did. "Guys! How are things?"

They pulled him through the soon-to-open store, demonstrating some of the pranks, pushing some of the merchandise on him as they went through the stock room to an office.

"Sorry to hear about you getting attacked by death eaters," started one, "but glad you've been vindicated!" the other finished.

Harry took a deep breath and blew it up into his hair. "Guys, I'm sorry Ron and Ginny got hurt."

"Meh," B1 shrugged, "they're fine now."

"Little brother used it as an excuse to eat triple helpings of mum's cooking, so Gin says," B2 shook his head.

"Ok, then. Look, I just left the bank. I've upgraded the contract you guys wanted." He handed them each a copy and they read through it, eyes widening as they saw the quite beneficial terms.

"Partner, you don't have to…"

"It's an investment. My account manager thinks it's a good one. With that endorsement, believe me, I think you guys are going to blow Britain's collective socks off. Oh, and two other things."

Harry pulled out two books. "If you could copy these, I think you'll like them. This one is a compilation of my mum's potions notes. She said in her letter to me that she was quite good with potions, which I read as brilliant. The second book is The…"

Harry didn't get to finish as Frick read the full title aloud: "Marauders' Playbook! Brilliant!" Frack quickly copied the books, grabbed the new copy of that one, and leafed through it, grinning. "How they made the map! Genius!"

They sat for a while, talking this and that. Harry let them know about Umbridge's final ride with the centaurs and he could see the ideas practically jumping out of their heads. ("Perhaps an ode to Hogwarts defense teachers?" "A stuttering Quirrell that spits out dark lords out of its turban?" "Not funny enough… but maybe it could be like frog cards" "with a Wheezy twist!")

"Well, I'm going to let you two geniuses get to it. Could you call the Knight Bus for me?"

"No prob partner."

He hopped on board, waving one last time to the twins before grabbing a seat and calling for an address in Hampstead.

He was going to see Hermione.