DISCLAIMER THE FIRST: It is by JKR's writing alone I set my mind in motion. It is by the grace of coffee that thoughts acquire speed, the back acquires strains, the strains become a warning. The warning is that I make no money from this. It is by JKR's writing alone I set my mind in motion.

PITHY STATEMENT RELATING TO THIS CHAPTER: "A son can bear with equanimity the loss of his father, but the loss of his inheritance may drive him to despair." Niccolò Machiavelli – Renaissance era Florentine historian, politician, diplomat, philosopher, humanist, and writer. (1469-1527)

LAST UPDATED: 11-03-2016

STORY NOTES: Like many of my fics (Paging Dr. Bell in particular) I'm writing (or rewriting) so that Hogwarts students start at age 14. There are many reasons for this which I'll spare you the rationale here. I probably should write up all of the various practical, stylistic and symbolic reasons for it for my Yahoo group. However, I've explained it in my rewrites of Paging Dr. Bell which I haven't finished rewriting before I post them. For fans of that fic, the change will help me get over my 3rd Year Block. Also assume that all relevent birthdays have been pushed back 3 years.

CHAPTER EIGHT – MONEY MATTERS

GROVE, WISTMAN'S WOOD, DARTMOOR, DEVON, UK – JULY 3rd 1996 – MORNING

Regina pulled her cloak tight around her as she walked through the mists. While growing up on the coast of the Baltic Sea gave Regina a life-time of getting used to the cold and wet, the chill of the British woods seem to penetrate even her hardy flesh. It reminded her of a quote from the American novelist Mark Twain about the coldest winter's day he'd ever encountered being a summer's day in San Francisco. Given the mists surrounding her, even on this summer's morning, Regina could now viscerally understand what the author had meant.

Regina looked at the map in her hand. It was magically updating as she walked and it showed she was almost at her destination. Jörd had not given her a lot of information but then again Regina felt that She most certainly had better things to do than chat with her. She did know she was to meet up with someone who would lead her the rest of the way to her eventual meeting with the Boy-Who-Lived.

Luckily getting into England without noticed had been easy for Regina. Given her human family ran a shipping company; Regina had simply sailed in without a problem. That she chose one of her father's Muggle ships made her entry even less conspicuous.

Regina frowned. It was still hard to get used to the idea that her family wasn't related to her or that she wasn't even human. She wondered if this was what the Muggleborn went through; finding that they were different than their family. As one raised in a Pureblood family, Regina had never given it much thought. Of course the Heimarks were Purebloods mostly due to marrying within a certain social strata than ideology.

For her, at least, the parting had been less stressful than Regina had feared. Apparently the adults in her family had accepted Regina as a baby and had a powerful charm put on them. Thus they unconsciously covered for her when she did things due to her Vanir heritage made possible beyond what a normal magical child might do. With one spell Jörd had taught her, the charm had been lifted and her parents and other adult relatives could fully remember everything.

Certainly there had been a lot of tears but the Heimarks were of Prussian stock; duty and stoicism was almost their genes. Their courage and sense of duty made the choice she had made all the more easy.

"What is such a lovely bird doing in such gloomy woods as these?" a voice from above her said in a playful tone.

Regina looked up and even though she knew she was to be met, her wand was already pointing at where the voice came from as she dropped the map and drew her blade. However she quickly lowered both at what was before her.

While male, the being sitting on lazily on a tree bough was obviously not human. His hair looked like it had been spun from silver and his eyes were a deep violet. He was lithe and his ears curved back to point. He was wearing an armor which looked to be made of wood. Whether it actually was or cleverly forged to seem so Regina couldn't tell.

Regina bowed deeply at the waist, "Forgive me, my lord, I meant no disrespect."

The being laughed. It was a musical laugh which sounded much like it was filled with the happy melody of a songbird. "None taken young Vanir. It seems both of your families practice the martial arts of steel and spell."

The being then gracefully jumped to the ground before her and gave a slight bow in return. "Greetings, Regina Heimark or should I say Hilda Geirahöddóttir? No matter, I am Oberon, knight and knave, protector and prankster. I have been chosen to bring you to your chosen destiny."

"Oberon?" Regina asked, "Not the Oberon? You certainly don't look like a dwarf king."

Oberon laughed musically again, "Ah no, that Oberon never existed except in Midgardian myth. Indeed many of the so called dwarves that scamp Tolkien wrote about were Ljósálfar from Álfheimr just as I am."

Regina looked confused, "Ljósálfar? I'm sorry; I don't know what that means."

Oberon chuckled; from the laugh lines on his otherwise perfect face, it seemed to be something he did a lot, "I am not surprised you do not. Midgardians know us better as light elves from Alfheim as opposed to our darker brethren the Svartálfar of Svartálfaheimr. Of course most Midgardians think the Svartálfar are so called dark elves but this is fanciful nonsense. No, the twin of darkness to our light are but the dwarves. They are also known as the Dökkálfar of Niðavellir which may have given rise to thinking that the dwarves were separate from the so called dark elves. But look at me! Am I not a knight and not a skald? You are not here for dreary lessons from a dour teacher smacking your knuckles when your drowse. No! To your destiny must you go and I am tardy in getting you to it!"

Regina shook her head with a smile, "No, thank you for explaining it to me. It is obvious I have so much to learn."

Oberon smiling face turned serious, "Then why will you not return to Vanaheim to the bosom of your mother and arms of your true family?"

Regina was surprised by this but her instincts told her this wasn't just an innocent question but a test, "Regardless of the situation of my birth, I am of the Heimark family. While I may not share blood with them, they are family. Would I do my mother's family honor if I were to abandon my Midgardian family so quickly? I am told I shall live much longer than even a normal Magical will and thus do I not have time to do right by the family that raised me?"

Oberon looked at her in a calculating way before his face once again split into a big smile and once again he laughed, "Well said Hilda Geirahöddóttir! Once again the honor of both of your families shines through you. Good! Now follow me for there is much to teach you before you are to be brought before the king of the Midgardian Erklings of these isles."

"Erklings? Wait the goblins?" Regina asked.

Oberon nodded, "As they are known in Midgard yes. Like so much in the Nine Worlds, there is duality. We elves, tall and light are twins of the short and dark dwarves. We revel in nature while the dwarves love to toil before their forges. Similarly in Jötunheimr you have the giant Jötun, fierce and often savage. Yet it is also the home to the small Erklings, so like dwarves in their lust for gold, love of battle and tending their forges. With all the changes here on Midgard, it surprises me not that the Erklings would become bankers. It suits their disposition for I have travelled the width and breath of many of the Nine Worlds and I have seen there are battles in the market no less hard fought as with steel on the battlefields. But you are a merchant's daughter; you are no stranger to this, yes?"

Regina laughed, "Oh yes, my father would agree with you there although I doubt he'd like to be compared so closely to goblins. He respects them but does not trust them."

Oberon made dismissive gesture, "Oh you will not have to worry about trust, Geirahöddóttir. A power much greater than they will be brokering for you. They would dare not disobey Her! Now come, we shall be away to a place long used by my people here on Midgard. There we can prepare for what needs to be done."

Regina bowed again, "As you wish, my lord."

As she followed the elf knight (who seemed to be almost skipping along) Regina realized from something Jörd had mentioned in passing which aligned with what Oberon had said. She doubted the English goblins would dare defy Mother Earth!

XxXxX

OFFICES OF KETTLERIDGE, CRESWELL & DIPPET, LONDON, UK – JULY 4th 1996 – AFTERNOON

Harry fidgeted and for the tenth time in as many minutes as he fiddled with the collar of his dress shirt. He knew he had to look good for the trial but he wished there was some sort of charm that broke new clothing in; the collar was stiff and it itched.

"Don't worry, Harry, I'm sure it will feel more comfortable by tomorrow," Creswell said with a smile in his voice. They were both being attended by some tailors which Madam Malkin had sent over to get Harry fitted. Creswell had decided with the importance of the case, he would be better off getting a new suit and robes as well. It would be a rush job but Madam Malkin had assured them she would get it done.

After the tailors had finished their measurements and had packed their gear and left, Harry was happy to be back in the generic robe he had been given after his release from Azkaban. It wasn't much but it beat stiff-necked dress shirts! Harry followed Creswell back to his office as some new developments had come up since their last discussion.

Harry hadn't felt comfortable telling some of his darker suspicions about Dumbledore, but he had told enough of what had been going on at Hogwarts to get Creswell's curiosity well and truly piqued. He had definitely agreed with Harry that something wasn't right at Hogwarts. He had told Harry that while the quick trial date was going to make things interesting, he was on top of it. So Harry had spent the rest of the day enjoying doing nothing beyond watching shows on the telly before getting another good night's sleep.

With a sigh, Harry plopped down in his new favorite chair. He had vowed that if his family was indeed well off that he was going to get a chair like this! Smiling to himself Harry thought it was the very least due to him for defeating Voldemort as a child. He had been told once (by Hermione?) that he had been put up for the Order of the Merlin but it hadn't gone through since no one truly knew what happened that Halloween night. They could keep the medal; he would rather have the comfy chair!

Creswell looked up and seem to be able to read Harry's expression. "No, you can't have that chair. I think it is one of the secrets of my success. The funny thing there isn't any sort of charms or spell work on it and I didn't even have it handcrafted. I got it at an antique store on Upper Street not too far away from King's Crossing."

Creswell's face turned serious. "Now Harry, I wanted to talk to you because I had a rather interesting 'chat' with Headmaster Dumbledore this morning. It seems that Dumbledore is convinced that you need to be taken from here and placed back at your relative's house for your own protection until the trial. As if you weren't safe here!" Creswell said. He was obviously upset at Dumbledore.

"I take it this building is safe?" Harry asked.

"Of course it is! The gall of the Headmaster in thinking that we haven't dealt with high profile cases and held important prisoners before! He seems to forget our firm has been around for over two centuries and never has a client escape or been kidnapped out of our care. Not to tempt fate but I would almost wish for the Dark Lord to try and make a go at you here!" Creswell fumed.

"Why is that? Even if they couldn't get in past your wards, they could just disapparate before the aurors showed up. It certainly is what Voldemort did in the Ministry." Harry asked.

Creswell gave a nasty smile. "Oh I would wish they would try to apparate either into the building or just outside. There would be a lot less Death Eaters to worry about. We have a lot more than wards protecting this building. True if they did make a concerted push to get in there would sadly be a lot of dead Muggles in the adjacent buildings by the end of the day. However you can cover a lot under the guise of a 'gas explosion' in this day and age. So many wizards and witches never even think what can be done with some explosives or electrified floors and fences. However, be that as it may, it does show that Dumbledore is adamant in trying to get you back to your relatives for some reason."

"Great! I get taken out of one prison and right off the bat the Old Man wants to throw me back into my old prison." Harry said disgustedly.

"Quite!" Creswell said. He looked thoughtful for a moment. "You know Harry while it isn't something my firm does; I have some fine contacts if you wish to press charges against your relatives. Who knows if there is any collusion between them and Headmaster but there is ample evidence to have them up on child abuse charges. Even if you do not press it immediately, I would recommend doing so. While I am sure you'd rather not air all the terrible things done to you, it is important that these sorts of things get prosecuted."

Harry grimaced at this but said nothing.

Creswell nodded in understanding, "I know Harry; I know. But far too often abuse in the magical world, regardless of whether the abuse is against the muggle-raised or house elves, is just ignored and so nothing ever gets done. I'm sorry to say but you sort of owe it to others that may be suffering because they are seen as 'freaks' by their families. As I told you the day we met, Salazar Slytherin felt we had a duty to the Muggleborn and raised but sadly most today do not feel that way. If it came out that even the famed Boy-Who-Lived could be abused, well I think it could help others."

Harry gave Creswell a sour look but stopped before giving the emphatic denial he first thought of. The truth was the solicitor was right. Hermione had often raged about it in regards to the abuse of house elves. It would be egotistical and selfish to think that he was the only one in magical Britain who had been mistreated by their family for being a Magical. His new memories from Riddle showed he too had been mistreated at the orphanage before going to Hogwarts. Ron had always been jealous of all the 'heroics' Harry had done when to him it was just trying to stay alive. Yet here was a chance to actually be a hero; what could be better than saving a child from being locked up in the cupboard under the stairs like he had?

"Yes, sir, I think I should do as you ask. However I would like to wait a bit. Would it be better to go forward while I am still a minor or wait till I'm 19?" Harry asked.

Creswell gave him an odd look. "Harry, you are going to be an adult in 27 days so it is a moot point as it will take some time to get a case against your relatives together. Beyond that, you should have taken up some of the duties of House Potter when you turned 15."

Harry was startled by this. An adult at eighteen? "I am afraid I don't understand, sir. I was told that the age of adulthood in the Wizarding world was 19 and after you passed your OWLs and not 18 or 21 like it is in Muggle world."

Creswell opened his mouth to speak, stopped himself and looked at the ceiling. Harry could tell he was upset and was trying to calm himself. Finally with a long sigh, Creswell looked back at him. "Harry, let me guess, you have no idea about anything related to your House do you? House Potter, that is and not Gryffindor." Seeing Harry shake his head, Creswell sighed again. He got up and poured himself a drink. He didn't care that it was just after lunch. It was times like this which really tried his opinion on mankind in general. He took a swift drink and sat back down.

"Okay Harry, I am going to explain a few things and I will act like you haven't a clue to anything I will tell you. I fear the sad truth is you actually don't have any idea. You are the last direct heir to House Potter. While you have many cousins, especially through your connection with House Black, you have no first cousins who are magical. The last war as well as the 1978 Dragonpox epidemic hit the final remnants of your family very hard. Since you are the last direct heir, you fall under special inheritance rules."

"What kind of special?" Harry said suspiciously.

"Oh nothing sinister my boy," Creswell hastened to add. "In our world, the last direct male heir to a House becomes the Lord of that House at the age of 15. This is mostly symbolic due to the age being the sum of the magical numbers 3, 5 and 7. At fifteen, about all you could have done is be recognized as Lord Potter at social functions and have the power to change the proxy voting your family's interests in the Wizengamot. It also gives more access to the family money and how it is being used. For example, paying my fee would be an acceptable use of money."

Harry gave a quick bark of a laugh, "Well thank Merlin for small favors!"

Creswell chuckled, "Not to worry, Harry. I would have cheerfully done this case pro bono if needed. So would Ted Tonks, I'm sure. Anyway the age of maturity is a bit of a tangle. You are correct that after passing one's OWLs and being 19 does make you an adult in the Magical world but it is similar to that of being 18 in the normal world. There are still a few things you cannot do till you turn 21 and a few which you have to be 28 and few of those require you to be a parent."

Harry blinked at this before remembering that Magicals lived a long time so 28 wasn't the old compared to the normal 125 years most Magicals lived.

Creswell tapped some of the paperwork for Harry's case which he had in front of him. "However, you fall under special rules given you are an Heir. Again this isn't something special just for you; it can apply to any heir. Now you case is a bit special simply because of there being no direct Potters left. These same rules could apply to say Heir Longbottom if Augusta Longbottom were to die along with Reginald Fenwick. Since you don't have anyone that close, special rules apply. Then there is also the simple fact that many of the rules the Houses use fall under British Law. As much as the Ministry tries to pretend the Muggle world doesn't exist, many of our laws are still tied to the British government and even the Queen due to the charter that created the Wizengamot and later the Ministry itself."

Harry snorted, "And I'm sure almost nobody knows this because if the likes of Lucius Malfoy are any example, they'd rather jump off a cliff than admit the Muggles have any power over the Ministry."

Creswell laughed dryly, "A rather apt analogy I'm afraid. Yes, while your story makes me wonder what Dumbledore is up to, between him and the Hogwarts Board, keeping old Cuthbert Binns on as the History teacher has probably cause more damage to Magical Britain than even Snape has done to the medical and auror corps. There is just so much more than goblin wars to learn and yet Dumbledore and the Board seem fine with it."

Harry harrumphed at that, "And wizards wonder why goblins are so surly to them."

Creswell nodded, "Exactly! Anyway, given you have received your OWL results, once you turn 18, you will be considered a full adult and the new Lord Potter. In comparison, once Heir Longbottom turns 18, while he becomes Lord Longbottom and can take up his seat in the Wizengamot, Dame Longbottom can still control the family's money until Neville turns 21. She can, of course, give that power up but nobody is expecting that to happen."

"Wait, so if I could have become Lord Potter, at least in name, before my 2nd Year started then why wasn't I told of this?" Harry asked. "And, more to the point, if I'm expected to take a seat on the Wizengamot after my OWLs…well you'd think someone would have warned me about that!"

"Why indeed? Personally I am amazed not one of your so-called adult friends didn't bring it up considering even that hag Umbridge would have to tread carefully if you were acknowledged as Lord Potter. I am betting, however, Dumbledore contrived some excuse why it wasn't the proper time for you to ascend to your birthright. Frankly I'd like to hear that whopper!" Creswell chuckled.

The chuckle soon died as the wizard began to frown, "What is amazing to me is how it was kept quiet. Regardless of the fact that many of the pureblood families supported the Dark Lord and would cheer if they watched you fall off a cliff, as you said, they all will be up in arms when this comes out."

"Why is that?" Harry asked. He couldn't see how Malfoy Sr. would ever go to bat for him.

"It's very simple, Harry. The affairs of the Great Houses are something they all jealously protect from Ministry interference. There has always been a vicious tug-of-war between the Ministry trying to gain greater power of the Great Houses and they resisting. So again, while House Malfoy or House Nott are in no way friends of House Potter, they would strongly support your rights to becoming Lord Potter at 15 otherwise that same sort of interference might be used against them in the future," Creswell explained.

Harry made a face, "Okay that makes sense. It wouldn't be me they were supporting but the privilege of my station."

Creswell nodded, "Exactly. Of course another related thing is the Goblins. They are another group which aggressively defends the rights they have fought bloody wars to attain. So one could further ask why you have never seen a copy of your quarterly reports concerning the businesses owned by House Potter. They should have been sent to you when you reached your fourteenth birthday. Since it is obvious you've never gotten those it would seem, as they say, the plot has thickened." Creswell said.

"Well I rarely get mail but I seem to recall Professor McGonagall saying something about my mail being screened for security reasons as well as to keep me from being overwhelmed by all the mail I get for being famous." Harry shook his head, angry at himself. Here was another incident where he had just accepted what he was told and never probed further. Harry couldn't help but wonder if there had been more than just memory charms placed upon him by Dumbledore when he was a child. How else to explain his own lack of asking even the most basic questions about his family?"

"Well it probably would not be worth pursuing a charge of interfering with the Royal Mail and Wizarding owls even though those are very serious crimes. Since I can almost guarantee this is the work of Albus Dumbledore acting either as the Chief Warlock or your magical guardian or both you can expect nothing will come of it." Creswell said grimly. "However this does mean we have a bit more ammunition to use in your case tomorrow. While it may not directly relate, I can use it to show how your life has been interfered with. This will bring up things that neither Fudge nor Dumbledore will want brought up relating to the Ministry so we can really put those charges down for the count. It will not help directly in regards to Umbridge but it will garner you some sympathy." Creswell gave a rather evil smile, "I'm never one to turn down anything that generates sympathy in a jury."

Harry gave a short laugh. "So what does this mean for me? What does it mean that I'm to be Lord Potter? I didn't even know my name wasn't 'freak' or 'boy' until I was about five years old. How am I supposed to compete with people like Draco Malfoy and all those high society types if I don't know the rules?"

Creswell winced at the revelation that the so-called savior of magical Britain hadn't known his own name until he went to school for the first time. Someone was going to pay for that abuse if he had anything to say about it. Luckily, as a solicitor of an influential firm, he had such power. "Well Harry I will try to help as best as I can but you are in a bit of a bind. If you lose your case tomorrow, you may well be back in Azkaban before the end of the day. Of course now that it has come out that you were in Azkaban as a minor, Fudge might keep you in the proper detention till you turn 18 and then sling you back to Azkaban."

"Yes, funny how the Ministry only treats me fairly when someone is watching," Harry said sourly.

Creswell snorted, "Oh that's the modus operandi for the Ministry. They're like cockroaches that scuttle away from the light. Sadly too few care enough to keep a close watch at what is really going on. The Prophet might as well be called Pravda and sadly the Quibbler is mostly a joke. Anyway, even if you win this case, we are back to what Dumbledore was discussing with me this morning; you will be sent back to your relatives. In the time it would take to get you placed somewhere else, you'll legally be of age."

Harry frowned, "If I'm going to be an adult soon, why is the Headmaster so intent I go back to the Dursleys? I mean he has to know I will be out of there like a shot the moment I am legally of age. That he hasn't even said anything worries me. Is it possible he's done something which will interfere in me being declared an adult?"

Creswell frowned as well. He had thought upon this very same topic and had come to the very same conclusion, "I'm afraid that very well may be the case. So much of what the Headmaster has done is either illegal or even any dubious legality he might give his actions via his power as your guardian, the Chief Warlock and any help from Fudge, at some point the owls will have to come home to roost. That he seems unworried about this outcome is rather sinister."

Seeing the dead, dejected look in Harry's eyes Creswell hastened to continue, "Now there is something we can try and that would be to see if you could spend the remaining time before your birthday with the Longbottoms. As I said earlier, Heir Longbottom is almost in the same boat as you considering he is also a last direct heir to his House. I'm sure Dame Longbottom would be more than happy to help you get up to speed in regards to your duties and responsibilities as Lord Potter. House Longbottom has long been an ally of your House. Because of this you might have a chance to foil Dumbledore's efforts to get you back to relatives. Considering Mr. Longbottom will become a Lord in his own right soon, it will open up other avenues to attack Dumbledore's plan for you; whatever that may be."

"So if I get slung back to my uncle's house, what does that mean when I turn eighteen? Is there some sort of ceremony I need to do to become Lord Potter? Can the Headmaster interfere?" Harry asked.

Creswell shrugged, "Before today I would say no there wasn't a way but now I'm not too sure. As for the actual claiming of your inheritance, the mechanics of that are fairly simple. I'm sure many families have a traditional text for this but it is unnecessary. All you have to do is say something like, 'I, Harry James Potter, of the blood of House Potter claim my right by birth' and your House ring will appear. Of course before that I need to get the Goblins to release a document to you given how it is likely that you'd need to use you full name."

"What do you mean? What's wrong with Harry James Potter?" Harry asked.

"The problem," Creswell said with a tired sigh at another sign of Harry's ignorance at such an important topic, "is that it probably isn't your official name. Most of the old families, and the Potters are one of the oldest, have names they use in public but their real name, the ones they use on their official documents, are different. Names have power in the Magical world which is why, to this day, rare is it for anyone to use the Dark Lord's name."

Harry snorted at this, "And that isn't his real name either!"

Creswell nodded at this as Harry had already told him about Tom Marvolo Riddle being Lord Voldemort, "Which proves my point. By not using his real name, the Dark Lord had a protection against certain types of magic. So in your case, to ensure things go correctly, I need to get a document which shows your true name."

Harry frowned, "Why wouldn't the Ministry know of it? Shouldn't it be on my birth certificate and Hogwarts documents?"

Creswell shook his head, "They are but they aren't. Remember, with magic many things can be done and keeping a name secret is one. While your experience with a Blood Quill was horrific, when properly used, you would write your official signature but only those in your family would see it as such. To the rest of us, we'd only see Harry James Potter. Oh there are a few others that could see it. For example, as House Greengrass' official lawyer, I see their true names. However my oaths as a lawyer keep me from revealing it."

"So what about this House ring? I don't think I've ever seen one," Harry asked.

Creswell reached out and showed a signet ring on his right hand bearing a family crest. Creswell gave a sad smile at the surprise on Harry's face. "Your House was not the only one to be hit hard in the last war. I am very young to be a head of my House but at least I still have a living brother as well as two first cousins. You know my niece, do you not? Leanne Creswell? She's a good friend of Katie Bell who I know is a teammate of yours."

"Yes I do. Not well but she hangs around enough with Katie that I'm on good terms with her. She's funny and I've learned not to bet against her or Katie in darts."

Creswell laughed at this, "So have I, Harry, so have I. Anyway the problem as I see it is you, Harry, are not most cases. I would not put it past Dumbledore and Fudge to have done some things to keep you from claiming your inheritance. Like with this trial, I'm sure state security or your own personal security will be brought up. Why the Headmaster seems intent on keeping your birthright from you as well as keeping you in the dark about your heritage is the question is why?

"I'm sure that was a rhetorical question, as my friend Hermione would say, but I don't know enough to see what Dumbledore could get out of it. What does he get as being my guardian? Dumbledore doesn't seem to be one to give up power he has," Harry said thinking how Dumbledore was Headmaster, Chief Warlock and Supreme Mugwump of the ECMS.

Creswell nodded, "Very astute, my boy. At the most basic level, Dumbledore is acting as the proxy for House Potter and can use your House's votes in the Wizengamot. That right there is important but one could argue why go behind your back? It implies that if you knew more of the truth you would not be inclined to vote along the lines that Dumbledore would wish. There is the money issue but since we first talked I've confirmed the Goblins are running your businesses. Since they make their money by making you money, you don't have to worry about theft."

"Are you sure? I've never had access to my vault like you said I should have had when I turned fifteen. Hagrid had my vault key when we went to Diagon Alley my first year. I think Mrs. Weasley has it now. She's used it to get money to pay for my school books so obviously other people have access to my money." Harry said.

"You don't have your key?" Creswell practically sputtered. "Harry, that is practically impossible! The goblins have a very detailed process to allow anyone not of the blood to use someone's key. You would know it if you had it done to you. The goblins are nothing if not perfectionists when it comes to making sure someone is giving the right to access a vault of their own free will."

Creswell stabbed a finger into his intercom, "Helen? I need to arrange a meeting with the goblins as soon as possible. I need to talk to the highest goblin who will talk to me. Tell them it is about a possible House breach regarding the Potters. I'm sure they already know about the trial but please let them know that time is critical. This is important, Helen; make it happen!"

Harry was a bit shocked as he heard the woman ask a few questions before signing off to contact the goblins. He hadn't even considered that a lot of what had happened to him might simply be about money. He sheepishly realized that he owed Hermione an apology. He remembered thinking that Hermione had been a bit naïve thinking that the magical world would be somehow less evil or corrupt in places as the Muggle world. Now here he was being totally blindsided by the fact that perhaps much of his problems stemmed from simple greed. He had money and power apparently and he knew enough history to see that made him ripe to be taken advantage of.

Creswell stood and came over to Harry and laid a hand on his shoulder, "Harry I need to go since this is really important. It isn't just about the money. Knowing what I know of the world I can say will some confidence that you have probably been stolen from. As bad as this is it is also an opportunity. In regards to crime there is a saying that you have to follow the money. If I can get access to information I know the goblins will have, it will hopefully provide a roadmap to those who have been messing with your life. So while it may be hard, I need you to sit tight while I sort this out. I'll have Helen see if she can find a primer regarding some of the customs relating to ancient and noble houses. If anything it will give you something to do before tomorrow's trial."

"Am I going to find out that I'm actually broke just as I found out that my family was wealthy?" Harry asked. The way his life seemed to run, it was the most probable outcome. Every time he got something good, it was taken away. Just like Sirius...

"What? Oh no, nothing like that. Don't fret my boy. One thing that will work for you is that your wealth is being run by the goblins. They can be maneuvered and tricked into certain things but if you can show you have been a victim of theft, you have no better friend than a goblin. Mark my words Harry, if you do nothing else as Lord Potter than you would be wise to cultivate the Goblin Nation. Most wizards barely tolerate them; more the fools them. The goblins can get you out of situation which would be impossible for solicitors like me. I tell you, when it comes to contracts and treaties no one keeps them better than the goblins. It's why solicitors like them so much; if it's in the contract, that's what's going to happen." Creswell said as he rushed to put on his robe and grabbed his hat before giving Harry a nod before leaving.

Harry could hear him talking to Helen outside. Again Harry felt as if his head was on fire. It seemed like every day brought more and more information he had never even knew existed. As much as reading a book sounded relaxing at the moment, Harry knew he needed time to think and get his head back together. Already he could hear the murmur of Riddle's memories he hadn't sorted start to buzz in the back of his mind. He needed to get this under control before the trial.

The trial! Harry looked out the window and across the roofs of London. He could see the building tourists thought was just the offices of the Star Energy Corporation. Harry knew what actually lay underneath all those Muggles dealing in oil and natural gas. If they only knew what power lay just below their feet! A power that Harry had to face again tomorrow.

XxXxX

GRINGOTTS, DIAGON ALLEY, LONDON, UK – JULY 4th 1996 – EVENING

Ragnok strode through the underground corridors like a predator on the prowl. Even he wasn't the reigning monarch of all the goblins in the British Isles, the look on his face would have been enough to make all the goblins in his way scamper to safety.

Rank had its prerogatives and when Ragnok entered the shrine of the Earth Mother, a mere clearing of his throat and a glare made the few goblins praying or meditating quickly take their leave. Ragnok glared at their retreating forms for awhile before shutting the door with a nod to his bodyguard who had struggled to keep up with him without resorting to jogging.

Ragnok turned and walked slowly to the front of the shrine towards the altar. He knew Gutpunch wouldn't let anyone enter and disturb him. While his bodyguards name was actually in reference to the goblin's sense of humor that could make almost anyone laugh, right now Ragnok was definitely not in a laughing mood.

Dumbledore's actions over the last twenty years had been worrying but after the briefing with Martin Creswell regarding the Potter account, it seemed the old wizard had managed to get his fingers into the Gringotts pie and that was just not acceptable. Yet Ragnok had to tread carefully. While the Ministry denied it, Ragnok knew Voldemort was back and he had never been a friend of the Goblin Nation. While at first glance, having the magical civil war start up again might seem like an excellent time for the British Goblins to push or even revolt, Ragnok knew that the ECMS and through it the ICW would be watching.

Ragnok scowled at the insanity of humans. The Europeans and rest of the magical world would ignore the slaughter of half-bloods and Muggleborns but any hint of the goblins trying to better their condition and they'd come down upon his kingdom like a rock slide. But Ragnok knew he had to do something, but what?

Ragnok lowered himself down into a lotus position in front of the altar and looked up at the bas relief of the Earth Mother behind the altar. It was a beautiful piece of work and it always cheered Ragnok when looking upon it. The interlacing of jade, copper, rubies, silver, and other precious stones and metals to represent eyes, teeth, hair and the like were a testament to goblin craftsmanship. That the form was human didn't bother Ragnok.

While the goblins had lived on Midgard for so long that the memory of their ancestral home remained only in legends and oral traditions, Ragnok knew that at heart they were still Erklings of Jötunheim. Even though the goblins were as earth-born as the next human, the goblins knew they were but guests in Midgard. So showing the Earth-Mother as human was just a way to acknowledge their gratitude for Her taking them in when the way between the Nine Worlds had grown to difficult to cross. Only those with access to the Bifrost could travel easily in this age. Even then, anything more than a few travelers was all but impossible.

Ragnok quickly dashed that line of thinking. While it was tradition to sing about an eventual return to their homeland, most goblins were quite content where they were. Humans were annoying but it beat keeping out of the way of the brutish Jötun which was evident from the old tales sent down through the ages.

Now was the time to clear his mind and think. Ragnok took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly…

…only to be shocked to hear a voice before him!

"You seem troubled, Erkling King. Tell me, my child, what vexes you so?"

Ragnok's eyes flew open to find that the Earth Mother's base relief was looking at him. What magic was at work, Ragnok didn't know but the metal eyes with their precious stone insets were clearly tracking him and the lips quirked in a smile.

For a moment Ragnok stared, his mind working out what might be at work before it hit him. Ragnok quickly got up before going to a knee, "Merciful Earth Mother, you honor me beyond words!"

"Again stop with the groveling! This twice in as many days!" the image of the Earth Mother said lightly with only a touch of exasperation in her voice.

Ragnok looked up to see the bas relief shimmer and out of it stepped a real life image of it. The figure pirouetted and looked at herself in one of the polished mirrors that helped bounce the candlelight around the shrine.

Ragnok was relieved to see Her smile, "While I'm often called the Green Mother and do favor that body, this too is a fine form. You Erklings certainly to such good work deep in my body. Such dutiful worshippers as well. Would that more of my children were as doting as you."

Ragnok bowed at the waist but quickly turned his gaze back to the being in front of him, "What can this poor being do for you, Earth Mother?"

"For one, you may call me Lady Jörd for the nonce. We have business, you and I, so let us not stand on too much ceremony, eh Erkling king?"

Ragnok bowed his head again, "As you wish, my Lady Jörd."

Jörd smiled, "Now I asked you a question though I already know the answer. It is fortuitous for you that I come with part of the answer which is vexing you."

Ragnok frowned before a look of understanding dawned on his face, "Your business relates to Albus Dumbledore?"

Jörd laughed lightly as she began to slowly walk around the shrine to take in the various pieces of art, "In a way. I have a task for you, Erkling King. One you and your people are well suited for in this modern age. Truly your folk seem to be living the life of the pen being mightier than the sword. Though I'm sure your blades are still sharp, mind you."

Ragnok bowed his head slightly at the praise, "Again you honor us, my Lady. So what can Gringotts do for our Earth Mother?"

Jörd turned and smiled, her teeth gleaming like jewels, "A bit of skullduggery in the books you might say. While it doesn't directly relate to Dumbledore, he is deep in plots which relate to one whom the Norns themselves are guiding. Oh yes, there are plots afoot from Midgard to the highest realms. All have their role to play. Yours will be to help with a bit of subterfuge. True this would be seen as breaking some of your oaths and treaties, but I am of the mind that in a choice between me and some Ministry paperwork, the proper choice will be made."

Ragnok blinked at this. While it sounded a bit like a threat, the Earth Mother seemed more like giving a favored child a sneak peak at their birthday present. Besides, Jörd was right; the goblins didn't need that much of a push to try and get one over on the Ministry. "I'm sure it will, my Lady. What is it that is needed?"

Jörd made a gesture to the ornate mechanical clock on the wall, "In a day or so, you will be visited by one of the Ljósálfar. Oberon is a knight of their highest court and he will bring to you a witch who will need to meet in time with the son of House Potter. With the death of his godfather, House Black is in contention. For all the squabble, I know the magicks of House Black will accept Scion Potter over the child of House Malfoy."

Ragnok couldn't help but snort, "This surprises me not, my Lady. While the Malfoy brat keeps in tune with more recent bigotry, his manner has ever been at odds with those of House Black."

Jörd chuckled musically, "Indeed! Now comes the skullduggery. The witch in question is Regina Heimark. You are familiar with the family are you not?"

Ragnok nodded, "Oh course, my Lady; they do brisk business throughout Europe. An old and proud family. We have never had any problems in our dealings with them."

"Good but know that Regina is not what she seems. Then again neither is Harry Potter. For Regina is a daughter of Vanaheim and Harold Potter is Lokiborn."

Ragnok couldn't contain his shock, "A Lokiborn! Here? On Midgard?"

Jörd chuckled again, "Calm yourself, my child. Harry is no Fenris or Jörmungand so put your mind at ease. However he will learn that his flesh is his to command. He will need this for he must stay in these isles but cannot as he is. That is where Regina Heimark comes in."

Ragnok frowned, "I'm not sure I understand, my Lady."

"I would not expect you to. Knight Oberon will be performing a complex ritual which will help Harry Potter align his body and mind with that of Regina Heimark's. Thus he will step into her life while she goes into hiding. What is needed of you is the story, paper-trail and other magical signatures must show that Regina Heimark is supposedly the bastard daughter of Sirius Black. Then Harry, posing as Regina will be given House Potter's power to act by Harry himself."

Ragnok thought for a moment before a feral grin spread on his face, "Ah, so Potter will be disguised as the Black heiress who just so happens has some power over House Potter. That is delightfully crafty."

"Isn't it?" Jörd replied with a devious smile herself. "Given the events of late, it will be put out the Potter heir has gone into seclusion to train against the trials those in the know are aware of. This plan will protect the Potter boy even as it keeps him in the midst of the action."

"And disrupts the Headmaster's schemes! Oh yes, the Gringotts will have no problem with doing this!" Ragnok said excitedly. "I shall get my best people working on it so everything is ready for when the emissary arrives with the Heimark witch." Ragnok paused, "Will we need to help her in anyway?"

Jörd nodded, "She will be traveling to some family friends in Patagonia. Another German girl, witch or otherwise, will not be noticed there. It is here intent to take up her life after the Potter boy is done with it. Vanir live long, longer than my Völvaborn and she wants to do right by her human family. I am sure you will have little difficulty facilitating her travel in secret?"

Ragnok bowed slightly, "None worth mentioning, my Lady. You have my promise all shall be done as you wish. My kingdom will not fail you, Earth Mother!"

Jörd walked over to Ragnok and laid a soft hand on his cheek, "Oh Erkling King! Your people have never disappointed me. You and your people have been a pleasure to host. While the centaurs look to the stars and the Midgardian Jötun live in the day, you and your people honor me more than my own children do."

Ragnok bowed his head almost in prayer. It wasn't everyday you were blessed by such a being.

Jörd chuckled, "Of course don't believe you are the only one worthy of such praise. Your dwarven competitors mirror your devotion. Your peoples may as well be quarreling siblings, so alike and not in kind."

Ragnok frowned, "Well at least the dwarves know the value of good craftsmanship."

Jörd laughed and pinched his cheek, "I am sure I will go to my death when Sól grows large and consumes me and the rest of Her get before the Goblins and Dwarves mend fences. No matter. You have your charge. Be diligent, Erkling King. Greater powers than I are moving and a dangerous dance is in the offing. One misstep and disaster might strike."

Ragnok bowed low from the waist, "My people and I will give it our fullest attention. Again, you have my pledge, my Lady!"

Jörd nodded her head regally in return, "Farewell wayward descendent of Jötunheim. Look for my emissary and keep this to your most trusted aides. Those we dance with have their spies everywhere so be mindful of the need for secrecy."

With that Ragnok watched as the Goddess walked back into the bas relief. It gave one last smile before returning to its natural state.

Ragnok stared at it for awhile before finally getting up from where he had been on one knee. With a deep breath, Ragnok realized he was content. Certainly there was a great deal of work before him and his people; dangerous work at that. But Ragnok was pleased. He and his people did Jörd's work and they had Her blessing.

What more could any goblin ask but a dangerous quest and the Earth Mother's favor?

XxXxX

A/N: If you see it in this story, you can bet it exists. Google Maps are a wonderful thing!

PLACE NAMES: I use the original name of most places when introducing them before mostly using the anglicized version. So Álfheimr becomes Alfheim, for example.

MAGICAL BEINGS & DEITIES: As always, I will update the "Cast of Characters" mentioned for those not familiar with Norse theology.

Tier Two (The Jötunn)

Jörᵭ: Avatar of Earth and Thor's mother

Sól: Avatar of the Sun. Sól is the Old Norse version with Sunna being the Old High German version. Obviously Jörd is referring, at the end, that She will die when the Sun expands at the end of its life cycle and 'eats' the solar system. The Norse theology is one of the few where the Sun is seen as female and the Moon as male.

Tier Three

Oberon: Knight errant to the royal court in Alfheim (A Ljósálfar or high elf)

Regina Heimark: Just a reminder, her mother is Geirahöd who is a Vanir (as is her father) so she rightfully belongs here. Given Harry is Lokiborn, he too is a Tier Three being.

Tier Four

Ragnok: King of the British Goblins though most wizards only know him as the Director of Gringotts (An Erkling)

Gutpunch: One of Ragnok's bodyguard. As mentioned, he name relates more to how he can make you laugh hard (like you've been punched in the stomach) than it does with his combat prowess. (An Erkling)

MAGICAL RACES & CREATURES: Just a quick reminder. In my stories (and especially in this one) almost all magical creatures are not native to Earth. Some of the minor beings like brownies and other minor 'faeries' are native but most traveled to Midgard from elsewhere in the Nine Worlds.

The Jötnar: Giants are native to Jötunheim. The Jötunn are sort of the equivalent of the Titans whereas the Jötun are the giants in Jötunheim. They are larger and smarter than those living on Earth who are referred to as the Jötnar.

The Erklings: Like the giants, goblins are native to Jötunheim. While commonly called goblins, Midgardian Erklings have many names. Their language is called Gobbledygook by British wizards but this is just a mishearing of Ghob'lay Kob which translates as tongue of the people. In my fics, I've had Harry make the comment how the goblin language sounds the Klingon so that the Kob part is ended with a bit of a click and just got mangled into gook. However the Kob comes from another term for Erklings used mostly by German speakers: kobold. Likewise the 'Ghob' starts with a sound which sounds like someone is clearing their throat. Like Klingon, goblin speech has a lot of sounds which sound harsh to human ears.

ECMS & ICW: European Confederation of Magical States and International Confederation of Wizards. I think I've previously stated it was European Coalition, but I think Confederation works better because a Confederate system of government is very week in enforcing itself on the member states which I think mirrors what we see in canon. Just a reminder, Dumbledore is the Supreme Mugwump of the ECMS while there is an Absolute Mugwump of the ICW. Of course this begs the question is there an English Mugwump representing the UK in the ECMS? Would it be Fudge or someone else entirely. Even with all of Dumbledore's power, I can't see him being allowed to be the Chief Warlock, Mugwump AND Supreme Mugwump.