Authors Note: I have not abandoned my other fics, I am in the middle of writing the next chapters; I just had to write this. (It's been in my head since I first read a "Snape is Harry's father" challenge fic).
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter; I do own the original ideas in my head unrelated to HP.
Authors Notes #2: This is a highly experimental fic—to my knowledge it has never been done, and so I ask that you, my readers, please review!
A/N #3: Also note that although his name is "Harold" in this story I will still address him as "Harry." Harold will be his public name. This starts out at the end of chapter one in HP and T.P.S./T.S.S.
Albus Dumbledore was surprised by the figure sitting in his office. "Mrs. Black, it's a pleasure to see you…."
He was cut off by a curt gesture. "I want my Grandson, Dumbledore."
Albus arched his eyebrow. "You are in no condition to demand anything…nor is there any evidence that he is your grandson."
"I have the marriage contracts, birth certificates, and if those aren't enough I have a copy of my family tree."
Dumbledore looked down on her, his lip curling slightly. "All of which could be faked."
Cassiopeia Black glared at the man in front of her. "Where Is He!" she demanded.
He smiled. "With his mother's relatives"
"The muggles?" she gasped.
"Yes, the muggles," he smirked, "and the first wizard he'll have contact with will be me." He sneered at her one last time. "I'm sure you know the way out." Then, he left the room.
Cassiopeia Black gave a short laugh. "Foolish old man, told me exactly where to go." And with that thought, she left the castle and apparated at Number four Privet Drive.
Harold Ophiuchus, Dominus Black (in the old form) was lying down on his bed waiting for the phantom clock he had conjured to hit 0:00. Only two more minutes, he said to himself. He waited the two minutes, and when it finally happened the new eleven-year-old jumped out of bed and walked down to the kitchen. He was unsurprised to find his grandmother and Kreacher already at the table. It was Black tradition to meet with the matriarch of the family on the hour of the eleventh birthday.
He sat down in his chair across from his grandmother and waited.
"Harold, you are now eleven; it is time for you to take up the mantle of your families. Are you prepared?"
He nodded, "Yes, Grandmother"
"You are the heir of the Black family, of the Evans family, and through the Evans family, you are the heir of Slytherin and Potter. Your families are over four thousand years old, and therefore you have enormous responsibilities. You own thirty-seven properties worldwide, a seat on the French Wizarding council, a place on the Hogwarts board of governors, sixteen vaults in the English and French Gringotts branches, and fourteen house-elves. I have taught you how to handle your affairs; are you ready?"
She reached under the table and brought out a box. Carved into the lid was a silver and black snake. "This is the vessel of your families, created by your mother and father on the eve of your birth; in it you will find the emblems of your families." She handed it to him, and he took it reverently from her hands.
He ran his hands over the box, savoring its heat like a lover's embrace. He flicked up the clasp and opened the lid. There was a flash of light, and when Harry could see again, he was struck dumb by the contents. He reached down hesitantly, gently took the items out, and set them down one by one on the table in front of his grandmother. When he was done, he closed the lid, fastened the clasp, and set the box aside. He then looked back at his Grandmother.
"I have before me the four symbols of your inheritance." She pointed to the black-stoned silver-banded ring. "This is the Ring of the Blacks. It has been passed down since long before our family was called 'Black.' It symbolizes the magic of our choice."
She pointed at the emerald incrusted ring. Its silver band was in the shape of a snake eating its tail. "That is the ring of the Slytherin family. It symbolizes the unique companionship they have with snakes. It was crafted by the Naga over two thousand years ago."
"That," she said, pointing at the earring with a blood-red stone, "is the symbol of the Evans family. It symbolizes the battles that forged them into the great family they became."
"This," she said, running her hand over a simple iron hoop, "is the symbol of the Potter family, and it represents their most important family traits: it is unbreakable and unadorned." She looked at him. "They are not your family by blood, but you are the Potter heir nonetheless; do you understand?"
"Yes Grandmother, but why did James Potter make me his heir?"
"He was found to be sterile. The Potters were notorious for marrying into wizarding families only from England. They refused to marry Magical beings, and they refused to marry outside of the Isle. After five hundred years of inbreeding, all sorts of problems crop up. It was quite disgusting really. His mother was his own second cousin." She paused. "Another reason was that you were his godson, not to mention his adopted son from the mere fact that you were his wife's child and therefore his legal heir should he have died without a child of his loins, which of course he did."
Her tirade ceased and she gave him a smile (albeit a small one). "Tomorrow when we go to Diagon Alley to purchase your school things, we'll get your ears pierced so that you'll be able to wear these"--she gestured at the earrings--"but put on the rings now"
Harry picked up the rings and put the Black family ring on his middle finger (the position of power) and the Slytherin ring on his ring finger (as a sign that he received this part of his heritage from his mother). He felt warmth when they were both on, and he was aware of the Slytherin ring adjusting to fit his finger. He heard a faint whisper of "Master" and then it was still.
His grandmother seemed pleased and her smile spread wider. "Good. Now off to bed."
Harry nodded and gathered up his new possessions. He left the kitchen and, after depositing the items onto his nightstand, fell onto his bed and went to sleep.
Next chapter: Diagon Alley!