Chapter Text
“I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” Harry stared at the goblin in front of him. He was almost certain he’d just heard him say—
“You have a surviving family member, Mr. Potter, so we cannot give you access to the Black vaults.”
Right. That’s what he thought he’d heard. “I have a surviving family member? The Dursleys?” He hadn’t seen them since he’d turned eleven and been whisked into the wizarding enclave! How could they be preventing his access?
Bloody hell, he just wanted to catalogue the artifacts and destroy anything that was too dark! He’d finished with Grimmauld Place, and that had been a horrifying mess, and now he had decided to go through the vaults. But apparently he couldn’t.
“No. There is a surviving member of the Black family. Since you are now the heir to the Black Family, that person is now your family member. However, you have yet to reach the age of twenty years, so you cannot assume that lordship. The only way you could assume the lordship before you reach the age of twenty would be if you are the eldest surviving member of the House of Black, which you are not.”
This didn’t make sense. He’d seen Bellatrix die. He’d seen Narcissus die. He’d seen Andromeda die and Tonks die and… and he’d seen Sirius die.
“Are you talking about Draco Malfoy?” He honestly had no clue if Malfoy was older than him.
“Sirius Black removed the Malfoys from the Black family tree. He removed everyone with a Dark Mark, actually, while reinstating everyone without the mark. It was a very complicated piece of magic.”
“But the only other Black is Teddy, and he’s younger than me.”
“Incorrect.”
“Incorrect?” How was that incorrect?!
“That is what I said.”
Harry could never work with goblins. He wanted to scream right now. “Can you tell me who the surviving member is, then?”
“A man named Aizawa Shouta. His mother was the oldest sister of Andromeda, Narcissa, and Bellatrix Black, but she left the enclave.”
Harry blinked.
A Black had left the wizarding enclave? But they were pure blooded maniacs! A Black would never chose to leave the enclave. Never! Which meant… “She was a squib.”
“Correct.”
“Does this Aizawa guy even know about magic?”
“That is unknown.”
Harry resisted the urge to rub his temples as his head began to throb. “But either way, he is the only person who can access the Black vaults until I turn twenty.”
“Unless he cedes the authority to you, that is correct.”
Bloody hell. It’s not like this was time-sensitive, but Harry really didn’t like the idea of all those dark artifacts waiting around to be stolen. It’s not like the Black vaults were impenetrable, considering as Harry’d gotten into the Lestrange’s vault. It would be very, very difficult for someone to do it, but they could.
Harry ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “Alright. Can you tell me where I can find the guy?”
“Outside the enclave.”
Harry stared at the goblin. “I gathered as much, thanks.”
“Any other information is unknown.”
Harry groaned. Could he wait two years?
No.
No, he couldn’t.
He would never be able to live with himself if something in that vault got stolen and used to harm someone. “Fine. Can you give me the paperwork for him to cede authority or whatever?”
“Of course.” The goblin reached under the desk and slid a document across to Harry. “He will need to file it in person at a Gringotts location and seal the document with a drop of blood to verify that he is, indeed, the interim head of the House of Black.”
Harry’s jaw tightened. So he would have to bring a muggle here. Wonderful. “Fine. Can you transfer some of my funds into muggle cash?”
“We will provide you with a Gringotts credit card, Mr. Potter, for all your muggle needs.”
“Lovely.” The goblin rang a bell on the side of the desk, and seconds later a smaller goblin came racing in, holding out a plastic card. The older goblin pulled a piece of paper from the desk as the younger one left, filing out a few numbers and then sliding the card across the desk.
Harry picked it up and was surprised to see that it looked perfectly normal—no odd design or anything. “Thank you.”
“Is there anything else I can help you with today?”
“No, but I appreciate your help.” Harry sighed and stood up. “May your gold always flourish and your enemies suffer.” Goblin sayings were creepy, if you asked him, but the answering grin—which was also creepy—at least told him the goblin appreciated the effort. After stealing from Gringotts, Harry was already on thin ice with the Goblin Nation. He would do whatever was necessary to try to ease himself back onto their good side.
“The same to you, Mr. Potter. Good day.”
Harry nodded and made his way out of the side room and through the busy lobby. If he was going to leave the British enclave, he’d have to go to the ministry for an approved portkey first. Which meant he would have to see Hermione.
Harry pulled down on his hat, thankful for its disillusionment charm that would at least let him navigate Diagon Alley without being observed.
Even though the war had ended half a year ago, now, Harry still got mobbed whenever he went out. Honestly, that was part of the reason he’d decided to hole himself up in Grimmauld Place and clean it out—the lack of contact with the outside world had been nice.
Maybe leaving the enclave would be good, actually.
Most of the people in their year had decided to go back to Hogwarts to finish their education, Ron was helping George with the shop, Hermione was Shacklebolt’s “temporary” assistant… it’s not like anyone would miss him. Not anyone that mattered, at least.
Harry entered the Ministry and kept his head down, trying to stay unobserved now that the disillusionment charm wouldn’t work with all the Ministry’s defensive measures. He sighed in relief when he made it to the lift.
He just needed to get to Hermione’s office and get the paperwork to leave the enclave. In. Out. That was all.
Reaching the office was easy. Talking to her, on the other hand… Harry stared apprehensively at the line of people. Wonderful. He ducked his head down, but had barely made it a yard before—“You’re Harry Potter!”
Whispers immediately filled the hallway. Harry looked up, trying to smile at the man who was staring at him in awe. “Blimey, sir, please. You go in next. I’m sure whatever you need is far more important than my measly paperwork.”
“Ah…” Harry looked behind the man, only to see everyone else nodding and smiling along. “Thanks, I guess.”
“Not at all! I should be thanking you! After everything—”
The door opened and Hermione’s voice called out for the next person.
Harry frantically ran inside her office and shut the door behind him.
“Harry?” She dropped her quill onto the desk, staring at him in shock.
He sighed, easing himself down into a chair. “Hi, Hermione.” He smiled at her. She was in plain wizarding robes, her hair pulled back and stress lines furrowing her forehead.
“You left Grimmauld.”
“Yeah…” Harry grinned sheepishly. “I went to Gringotts this morning, and…” He launched into the morning’s tale, her eyebrows slowly rising as he continued.
“You need to what?!” Hermione was staring at him.
It was the you’re-an-idiot-and-why-do-I-have-to-clean-up-everything stare.
Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “I need to leave the enclave?” Oops. He hadn’t meant that to sound like a question.
“Harry, the enclaves exist for a reason. Now that—”
“I know, Hermione, I know. Muggles have quirks now and are more of a threat than ever, plus the wizarding world has to remain isolated because the knowledge of magic would throw muggle society back into the dark ages just like the appearance of quirks did—I know. But if I’m going to destroy all of the dark artefacts that the Black’s have, I need to find this last Black descendent and get him to cede to me the lordship. And we’re not cutting paperwork corners anymore, right? No special favors for any wealthy families or famous wizards.”
Hermione stared at him. “You could wait.”
“I really can’t. Gringotts isn’t safe and you know that.”
“I highly doubt someone’s going to be that motivated to break into the Black vaults, Harry.”
He stared at her. Finally, she sighed. “Alright. I’ll give you a portkey. Do you know when you’ll return?”
“No clue. All I have is this guy’s name, nothing else.”
“Right. Well… at least the Blacks have always been the type to stand out.”
Harry snorted. “There is that.”
“And… well,” she paused, tucking a stray hair behind her ear as she watched him carefully. “It’s exciting that you’ll be able to meet a relative.”
Harry frowned. “He’s Sirius relative and more closely related to Malfoy than me. Best not to get my hopes up on that front, Hermione.”
“Ah.” She bit her lip. “Well… you sure you want to go now? It’s almost winter and hardly good weather to travel and—”
“Hermione.”
She stopped rambling, her eyes bright. “I don’t want you to go, Harry. This could take forever! What if you’re twenty before you even find him?”
“Muggles have computers and the internet, it shouldn’t be that hard. But if that happens, then I’ll come back when I’m twenty. And I promise to write to the ministry post box.”
“At least wait a few days and say goodbye to everyone.”
“Hermione, this will probably only take a week. For all they’ll know, I’m still holed up in Grimmauld. And… well, I don’t really want to see Ron right now.” Although he loved him like a brother, Ron was a bit too happy with all the post-war attention, and he struggled with Harry’s dislike of it all. Ron wouldn’t understand why Harry wanted to leave. Plus the last thing Harry wanted was a huge tearful send off with a large crowd and everyone hugging him… he shuddered.
Human contact wasn’t the best right now, but, well… he was trying.
Who was he kidding, he’d just isolated himself from everyone for the past few months. He wasn’t trying at all. But time would probably help, right? And in the muggle world he wouldn’t have to be afraid of spells or anything, so…
“I need a vacation, Hermione. I need to get away from all of this. From people yelling my name everywhere I go, from living in fear that one of his followers will find me, or worse, find one of you… I can’t keep doing this.”
“Fine.” Hermione sighed. “I said I’d do it, alright?” She opened up her desk drawer, rummaged around, and brought out a small obsidian cat paperweight. “Use this. Don’t lose it. I’ll attach it to your magical signature so that you can come back at any time, and you’ll land in Grimmauld when you do. The keyword will be Crookshanks. When you first use it you will land outside London Station. It uses a brief disillusionment charm to make sure no one notices your random appearance, even if they are looking right at you when you land.” With that, she pulled out her wand, casting a slew complicated spells that Harry had difficulty following. Not that he’d ever been interested in learning about portkeys, since Voldemorte’s ministry had been monitoring them.
Hermione finally set her wand aside and looked back up at him. “Come back soon, ok? Don’t disappear on us.” She bit her lip, then put the figurine in his hand, her fingers curling around his. “We won’t be able to handle that.”
Harry swallowed, his throat suddenly tight. “I won’t. I promise. And I’ll keep in touch.”
“You better.” She gave him a pinched smile. “The portkey is one use only, so if you need to make more than one trip, you’ll have to come see me again. That’s just policy.”
“Right.” Harry nodded. “I’ll um… I’ll try to make it quick, Hermione.”
“Of course.” She looked like she wanted to come around the desk and hug him, but Harry honestly couldn’t take that. Not even from her.
He fled.
There were a few shouts of his name as he weaved through the crowds, and multiple people shoving paper in his path to try to get his autograph, but he finally made it to the apparition point.
Barely a second later, and Harry was standing in the refurbished living room of Grimmauld Place.
Harry’d been living with everything still packed up in his trunk this entire time, including his stash of muggle money from when he was on the run, so all he really needed to was put that money and the Gringotts card in his wallet and transfigure the suitcase and then… then he was ready to go.
Harry stood in front of the fireplace, rolling the cat figurine around in his palm. Kreacher would take care of things while he was gone. Harry had clothing and money… all he needed to do was find this muggle and convince him to come back with Harry.
Something told Harry that would be easier said than done. But it would be nice to walk around without everyone knowing his name. Harry’s hand tightened around the suitcase handle.
“Crookshanks.”