Harry Potter and the Cultivation of Power
Author's Note: First chapter. Hope you enjoy. This is just something that I wrote whilst I was bored earlier, not sure when I will update with chapters because have exams coming up.
Summary: In the wake of Sirius Black's death, a young sorcerer rises as the Lord of two Great Families. Harry Potter must balance his magical education, political responsibility and personal vendettas as he becomes ensnared by the Old Traditions; so begins Harry Potter's Cultivation of Power!
Chapter One: Sewing the Seeds of Independence
Dear Harry,
I would firstly like to express my deepest sympathies over your recent loss and also to apologise for my failures to you over not only this past year, but throughout your short life. I hope for your forgiveness.
Turning to brighter matters however, you will be brought by a guard of Phoenix agents to Grimmauld Place on July 29th. You can spend the remainder of your summer at headquarters with your friends, though I would like to impress upon you the importance of keeping the prophecy a complete secret, the more who know of its content, the more people that will be in danger.
When you return to Hogwarts this semester, you will, alongside your chosen class schedule, attend defence sessions with various Phoenix agents to expand upon your skills. Also, the defence of your mind is similarly of grave importance and so your occlumency lessons with Professor Snape will continue and I ask that you thoroughly apply yourself this year.
All the best,
Albus Dumbledore
Harry seethed as he read the letter that had been delivered to him by his parent's best friend and accursed lycanthrope, Remus Lupin. The significance of the personal delivery of the letter was not lost on the teen as he took a moment to appreciate Dumbledore's persuasive, if not manipulative methods of achievement. It seemed that he wanted Remus to drive home the issues in the letter that had been presented him, though Harry had no wish to comply.
For a week Harry had been residing at his relative's house in Surrey, England. He had not sent the advised three-day letters to the Order of the Phoenix informing them of his well-being as his anger at being observed like some animal from the Zoo by Phoenix agents, which he knew was continuing from last summer, was burning white-hot. The week that he had stayed at the Dursley's residence however had provided him with ample time to evaluate a great many things in his life and the result was a more opinionated Harry Potter, who was about to voice his views to the aggravatingly calm werewolf before him.
"So," he addressed the messenger seated before him on his old, battered desk chair, "do you know what the letter's about then?" His voice remained calm enough, though the accusation in his tone could not be misinterpreted.
"Professor Dumbledore briefed me of its contents, yes. Are there any issues you want to clear up then Harry, before I go… Order business and all you see," he responded, his eyes purposefully drifting to his watch-hand. The gesture was not lost on Harry, though he was determined not to be rushed into compliancy.
"I'm not going back there. You must understand? Sirius hated that place, and I don't want to go there…just to be reminded about how his last months were spent cooped up in a place he despised," his voice was laced with a venom that none would associate with the meek Harry Potter.
"Come now Harry," he countered in a soothing tone, "you must appreciate that it is important to be amongst friends at a time like this. You will be free of the Dursley's for another year at least and able to enjoy your birthday with family."
"I never had family when I was growing up," here a slightly accusing stare was pointed directly into the amber eyes of Remus who looked somewhat stunned, "and I don't need it now. I'll stay here if I must, I don't care, as long as I don't have to return to that awful place!"
"Now Harry, you must understand that I couldn't come to you whilst you were growing up! Dumbledore ordered everyone to leave you be, so you could grow up without being the Boy-Who-Lived and all that nonsense. What was I supposed to do?"
"You could have come to me! You were supposed to be my parents' best friend, you could have checked on me, visited once or twice! So what if Dumbledore didn't agree!" he answered hotly, his voice bitter and his eyes watery. "Dumbledore's nothing but an old man who has let what power he has go to his head! He and his decisions can go rot in hell for all I care; since when does a Headmaster have the legality to determine where an orphaned boy should reside? And every year at Hogwarts, my life has been in danger and only now does he see fit to have me trained - what will I learn at Hogwarts eh? Turning teapots to turkeys, I'm sure that will save my life!"
"Now Harry, I think that's a little out of line! Dumbledore is a Great man and I think you owe him some respect!" Harry only scoffed at this, which seemed to anger Remus as his eyes gleamed gold in the afternoon light. "Besides, the training you will receive is an honour Harry, you will be taught by some very powerful Phoenix agents who humble you in magical prowess!"
"Oh what, like Snivelus who couldn't teach a fish to swim?" he asked derisively.
"That is Professor Snape Harry and your training is Final!"
"Well then, if Dumbledore's word is law, then why can't I practise magic over the summer eh? That way I could manage a few extra months of training before Hogwarts."
"Minister Fudge is still in power Harry and there are some difficulties in negotiation concerning you."
"That's another incompetent fool! Why is he still in power anyway, he should be kicked out of office, especially after denying Voldemort's return for a whole year! What preparations is he making anyway?" he asked, somewhat curious despite the heated level of discussion between himself and Remus.
"He has just published mass amounts of basic defence leaflets for the general public. He is currently working on plans to expand the auror force also, and though we both know its not enough Harry, it's a step in the right direction."
"Ha, well, he's an adequate representative for the wizarding world anyway; they're all nothing but weak sheep! One minute they love you, but tell them something they don't like and they turn on you in an instant!" This seemed to effectively shock Remus as he was staring at Harry incredulously, his mouth moving but no sound emitting, taking a few moments before regaining speech.
"Is that what you really think Harry?"
"It's the truth Remus, and deep down you know it too."
"Needless to say Harry, I'm disappointed in you," muttered Remus, his face somewhat lost before it settled on looking firm and determined. "Dumbledore's word is final Harry and you will follow orders! This is no time for pettiness Harry; we must all make sacrifices."
"Well then Remus, I guess this is where we part. Please leave," he said, his voice sad but resolute. Harry had hoped for more from his former professor but sadly, Remus had chosen his loyalties yet Harry decided to leave him with a parting comment. "Remus… how far would you sacrifice me, to win this war?"
Remus turned and looked at Harry, his amber eyes downcast. "Sirius' funeral will be held at the end of August, the 24th, a chance to pay our respects." He then turned and left the young man's room, leaving him to shed the last tears he would ever cry on the account of the stubborn werewolf.
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A few hours after Remus had left Privet Drive, Harry, still lying on his dilapidated cot was startled to attention by the scraping of a small wooden box as it grated along the floor of his room. The box was only a little bigger than Harry's palm, but what shocked him was that it had seemingly appeared from nowhere, sliding across his floor as it landed at the foot of his cot. Drawing his holly wand from beneath his pillow, Harry approached the small oak box.
The box was simply designed, no ornate markings really or fanciful hinges, just a plain oak box with a flat lid and simple silver hinges. As he approached closer, he noticed that the lid actually bore a large crest; drawn in skeletal silver lines, making it look much like a spider web, shone the crest of Gringotts Bank.
Poking the box tentatively with the tip of his holly wand, Harry was somewhat relieved that no disastrous effects took place and emboldened, reached out and flipped the catch on the lid's front. Opening the box, Harry found inside a roll of parchment sealed in red wax with the Gringotts seal once again emblazoned proudly in the centre and also, beneath the parchment, a small circular pin, also bearing the Bank's crest.
Deciding to momentarily place faith in the wards Dumbledore had erected over the property, Harry seized the letter, trusting that any item bearing ill-will towards him would not be able to reach him. Breaking the wax seal on the parchment with his thumb, Harry began to read the letter from the Goblin Bank.
Mr. Harry Balian Potter,
This note is to inform you of the changes being made at the Diagon Alley branch of Gringotts Bank in light of the Dark Lord's return to Britain. Confidential correspondence with the bank will now be conducted via the newly developed Gringotts Drop Boxes which allow for the secure transportation of confidential information between branch and client.
To use the Drop Box, one must enclose the documents they want transported into the box, and then seal the box using the catch. Proceed to tap the crest upon the lid's top and the enclosed documents will be transported to the Goblin mail service, to then be distributed to the designated departments within the bank – we stress that documents should be properly sealed and addressed before being placed in the Drop Box.
The box will now remain with you for as long as you are a client of Gringotts Bank. If there are any queries you have, please don't hesitate to use the Drop Box for contact or visit the branch personally to discuss your enquiries.
Sincerely,
Head Goblin Kelim
Protocol Sector
Gringotts Bank
Diagon Alley Branch, UK
To say that Harry was stunned was an understatement. This sudden communication with Gringotts Bank however, did raise some questions as to whether he should have been receiving previous information from the Goblins, though for now, it was just speculation. Noticing a second leaf of parchment behind the initial sheet, Harry once again began reading.
Mr. Harry Balian Potter,
Gringotts requires your presence at our Diagon Alley branch at some point in the course of the next week. As the sole beneficiary of the late Sirius Diomedes Black, you must meet with the Head of Inheritance, Goblin Shakur, at the branch to discuss your family assets and Lordships.
Enclosed in the Drop Box is a portkey that will transport you to the Diagon Alley Bank lobby; to activate the pin, simply intone your full name. Please note that the portkey will only be functional for one week, at the end of which, if you fail to be present, you will be sent further instructions via the Drop Box in regards to attendance.
Regards,
Head Goblin Kelim
Harry took the time to thoroughly review the letters sent to him and then examined his portkey, which he replaced into the Drop Box for safe keeping. Harry decided that the next morning, he would journey to Gringotts to set his affairs in order, though he didn't think he would bother to alert the Order to his trip, after all, Dumbledore seemed to want Harry thoroughly in check and could possibly intervene and prevent his attendance to the Bank.
Slipping under the covers of his cot, Harry drifted off into a troubled sleep, the Gringotts Drop Box securely hidden under the loose floor board in his room. As he slept, he didn't register the camouflaged Phoenix agent, Nymphradora Tonks, sneak into his bedroom and search through his belongings specifically looking for the box he had previously hidden under the floorboards. That night, Tonks reported back to Dumbledore that, unlike many other Gringotts clients, herself included, Harry had not received a Drop Box which would be the initial mistake on the Order's behalf, leading to Harry's untimely independence.
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When Harry Potter arrived in the lobby of Gringotts Bank the next day at eleven o'clock in the morning, he did not look at all like the Harry Potter known to the wizarding media. Clad in a large hooded black cloak, somewhat tattered, which Sirius had used the previous summer to line the bottom of Harry's trunk, Harry looked more like Sirius Black the escaped convict, than Harry Potter wizarding hero. He was wearing his most respectable-looking clothes that he had (some simple jeans and a slightly large top and jumper) beneath the cloak and had used a woollen hat to hide his scar, his dark bangs sticking out from under the sides in a wild manner.
He walked over to a free counter where an ominous Goblin stared down at him commandingly, though Harry smiled warmly and informed him that he was here to see the Goblin Shakur. With that, the Goblin snapped his elongated fingers sharply, signalling another Goblin to escort Harry deeper into the office-wings of Gringotts. Following the small Goblin before him through the maze of corridors, they eventually arrived at a small, private waiting room where Harry took seat in a large leather recliner. His Goblin escort, assigned to Harry, stood opposite Harry by a wall decorated with a large hanging tapestry of fine craftsmanship.
Deciding that the uncomfortable silence was bordering on impoliteness, Harry addressed the Goblin before him. "So, how long do you think it will be before I can see Goblin Shakur?" he asked, keeping his tone respectfully quiet.
The Goblin's brow furrowed for a second as he contemplated the question before replying, "I would estimate ten minutes sir." Something about the Goblin's crisp voice stirred some distant memory.
"Griphook?" he asked incredulously. Harry's face tilted to the side as he studied the Goblin's features closely.
"Sir? How is it that you know me by name, sir?"
"Harry's fine by the way," he commented idly before continuing. "Do you remember a few years ago, it was you that escorted me to my vault for the very first time?"
"Yes, I remember… Harry, but I am surprised that you remember a Goblin by name, and appearance."
"Yeah, I thought you were familiar, your voice gives you away I would say Griphook. So, how have you been these past few years?" What followed was a rare conversation between Goblin and Wizard which was surprisingly pleasant as Harry's curiosity towards the inner-workings of Gringotts gave Griphook plenty of room to detail his knowledge and experiences. Harry even learnt a few Goblin words in their native tongue of Gobbledegook which although difficult to pronounce, were put to good use when Harry paid the Goblin Shakur the customary respect in Goblin-tongue.
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The Goblin Shakur was clad in forest green business attire, with a silver signet ring, detailing the Gringotts crest, adorning the third finger of his right hand. His crooked nose, which drooped at its pointed end from its own weight, hung offensively from the pinched face and the sickly grey-green of the Goblin's skin gleamed in the candle-light of the office like sculpted wax. Sporting a feral grin, sharp white teeth on full display, the Goblin welcomed Harry into his office.
"I am surprised that you know of our greetings Mr. Potter?" enquired Shakur, obviously impressed by Harry's knowledge as Harry had spoken the Goblin greeting.
"A friend of mine taught me though I realise that my accent needs considerable work," to which Shakur chuckled, the laughter emitting as a croaking from the Goblin's throat.
"Well Mr. Potter, in the note sent to you via the Drop Box, you are aware that Sirius Diomedes Black appointed you as the sole beneficiary in his will. Now, although Mr. Black was a fugitive from the Ministry of Magic, his will is valid because he is from an Old Family. Although Goblin Law is intermixed with Ministry regulation, our laws supersede the Ministry in this matter because of an old stipulation pertaining to Old Blood."
"Old Family?" interrupted Harry.
"Yes, the Old Families consist of families that long ago governed wizarding society in Britain before the foundation of the Ministry of Magic. However, they still retain positions in the extended Wizengamot and each Family name, for example Black, holds a vote which can be used in the passing of laws and motions within the Ministry."
"Ah, I see," he responded.
"Yes, now, Mr. Black's will bequeaths to you his entire fortune, a considerable sum and he leaves you as heir to the House of Black."
"So I have a seat with the extended Wizengamot then?"
"That would be correct Mr. Potter. Under normal circumstances, you would not be able to claim Lordship of the House of Black, much like you have not, in the past, been able to claim Lordship over the House of Potter. However, since the death of your guardian, Sirius Diomedes Black, if you claim Lordship you will become a legal adult with full adult rights of owning property and managing funds, apparition and freedom to perform magic."
"So, if I accept Sirius' will, then I will be able to claim Lordship over the House of Black, and since I will be a Lord and so a legal adult, I will also be able to claim Lordship over the House of Potter, right?"
"Quite correct; if you would like to sign here," he indicated to the parchment-document that he was handing Harry, "then you can proceed to claim your due Lordships."
Harry, not bothering to decipher the Latinate text that was his Inheritance Acceptance, signed the document with a flourish and was shocked to feel the bonds of underage observation lift from him, leaving him feeling lighter. Then, Shakur withdrew two small bundles of cloth from his desk draw and presented them to Harry.
Reaching out for the first bundle of cloth, which was a rich aqua blue, he uncovered a large ring which was utterly beautiful. The ring was gold and shaped as a traditional band with exquisitely carved runes running the length of it. At the ring's head, a large gem of aqua blue stood proudly which seemed to contain swirling water as the light played on the gem's surface. He tentatively slipped the Potter family ring onto the middle finger of his left hand where it rested peacefully.
The second bundle of cloth was pitch black in colour, which was expected from the House of Black really, and when Harry uncovered the Black family ring, he found it to be equally as beautiful as the Potter family ring. It was a silver band that had an onyx gem set into a snake's mouth on the ring's head. The band was unblemished, though Harry assumed that the power was not visibly clear in runic form as was the Potter's ring, but more than likely, infused into the metal itself. He slipped it carefully onto the third finger of his right hand where it rested graciously.
After Harry had claimed the rings and they had accepted him, all it took was a few quick signatures and he was now legally independent.
"Congratulations Harry Potter, Lord of Potter, Lord of Black."
"Thank you Shakur, now, you mentioned earlier that I could legally manage my funds didn't you?"
"Yes I did Mr. Potter, if you would like, I can call the Goblin in charge of the Potter accounts to arrange a meeting to discuss your funds management?"
"Who is the Goblin in charge of the Potter account, and who appointed him?" he asked cautiously.
"The Goblin's name is Vykril Mr. Potter," he then leafed through some parchments, before finding what he was looking for and continuing, "and he was appointed by Mr. Albus Dumbledore it seems."
"Ah, would it be possible to replace this Goblin with a Goblin of my own choosing perhaps?" Harry enquired politely, not failing to notice the greedy gleam in Shakur's eyes as he asked this.
"Indeed sir, you can appoint someone of your own choosing. Who did you have in mind?"
"Well Shakur, I was thinking of the Goblin Griphook? I know him from his duties to the floor customers though I'm not sure if he has accounting experience?"
Although Shakur's face fell somewhat, credit must be given as he supplied an honest answer, "All Goblins are knowledgeable in accountancy Mr. Potter. His experience may not be sufficient for such a large account as Potter, especially with the additional funds, properties and investments of the Black account, but if you wish it, then I will arrange the documentation for Griphook to be elevated to accounts manager of Potter and Black."
"Thank you Shakur, I would like that, though we must ask him first eh? Also, could you combine the Black vault contents with the Potter vault perhaps? I don't want to have to journey between a wealth of vaults when I visit Gringotts you see."
"That will be no problem sir; your trust fund vault and the Black family vault will be combined with the Potter vault. Is there anything else you would like sir?"
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The legalities concerning his new accounts manager had been arranged efficiently and swiftly as Harry was now seated across from Griphook in the Goblin's new office. It was a generously sized office with a great many filing cabinets and a large wooden desk; it wasn't overly elaborate, yet it wasn't too humble for a manager of two extremely wealthy Old Family accounts. Griphook was extremely grateful to the inspiring Lord of Potter and Black.
"Griphook, I will need to visit my vault later on in order to collect any items I think I might want or need. I have decided that I will no longer return to my relative's household… after all, I'm legally an adult now eh, a Lord of two Families."
"Indeed Harry, in that case, would you like to review the extensive list of properties included in the Potter and Black assets?"
"That would be great Griphook!" he responded enthusiastically.
"So, what is it that you are looking for in a property?"
A half hour later, Harry and Griphook had decided on a small castle which could be humbly called a large manor. It was located somewhere in the English countryside and Harry had chosen it because it was unplottable (could only be reached by someone who knows where it is) and had a large amount of land accompanying it. Unfortunately, it had fallen into disrepair as it had not been used in the last few hundred years by any Potter, most likely just forgotten about, lost in the wealth of assets of the Potter family. A portkey was supplied with the key to the manor which was fortunately for Harry, a two-way portkey (would transport to the manor and back to where the portkey was initially activated). This would suffice for Harry until he could apparate as it would allow him direct access to Diagon Alley where he could navigate Britain from, effectively.
That decided Harry and Griphook conversed for a short while, Harry telling Griphook of how he was pleased about being a legal adult because he could now practise magic over the summer. With a Dark Lord wanting him dead, Griphook understood Harry's healthy appetite for knowledge and practise. That was when the conversation took a darker turn, in Harry's favour most definitely.
"Mr. Potter, since you will be preparing in defensive and offensive magic, I think I owe it to you to suggest masking your magical signature. Although you will not be tracked for underage magic now that you are legally independent, it could prove beneficial to have all your magically activity untraceable back to yourself and it would also prevent your magic from being 'read' by someone wanting to know what magic you are performing, be it respectable or not."
"I see what you mean Griphook that would be beneficial. What do I need to do?"
"You must drink a potion, though it is rather expensive. I have many contacts throughout the magical world Mr. Potter of both respectable and unsavoury nature and could procure this potion for you if you would like?"
"Please, that would be really useful! Just take the funds directly from my account."
"It will be arranged, and I will transport the potion to you as soon as possible via your Drop Box. So, shall we visit your vault then?"
"Yeah…wait, could you deliver a message for me please by owl?"
At Griphook's nod, Harry quickly scribbled a note onto a scrap of parchment and handed the folded note over to his trusted Goblin friend. Harry realised that he would need the recipient's help if the plans forming in his mind were going to work.
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Entering his vault after a hectic cart ride with Griphook, Harry was awed into silence by the contents of his multi-family vault. The cavernous tomb that housed the assets of the many generations of Potter and Black was huge and the contents were uncountable. Towers of gold, silver and bronze shone in the torch-light as well as the numerous items of medieval weaponry that littered the vault floor and walls. Shelves of books and documents lined the walls as did all manner of tapestries and ornaments. There were cabinets of jewellery and chests overflowing with gems, jewels and precious metals. Fine clothing was also present in various chests that enclosed reams of expensive cloth and robes of obvious quality; some garments being draped over the items of furniture positioned around the vault.
Receiving a full inventory of what was inside his vault and taking visual stock of everything, Harry was pleased and decided to only take a small bag of gold with him for the time being. If his plans came to fruition, then he would be able to retrieve most things he wanted at the drop of a hat. Before Harry left Gringotts, he gave generous donations of gold to both Griphook (aside his salary for accounts manager) and also to Shakur for his valued assistance, thus strengthening the Goblins' loyalty and confidentiality far beyond the manipulations of Albus Dumbledore and Cornelius Fudge.
Reaching the lobby of Gringotts, Harry was thoroughly pleased with the progress he had made today. He was no longer the boy who let his life be run for him. He was now the man that held his own council and ran his own life; Lord to two Great Families. As he made his way across the lobby towards the Gringotts entrance, his tattered cloak clasped around his lithe form and the deep hood draped over his head, he felt a small something collide suddenly with his shin. Looking down, the tennis ball eyes of his favourite house elf stared back at him.
"The Great Harry Potter asked for Dobby?" he whispered fiercely, conscience of Harry's privacy and anonymity whilst in public, something Harry was extremely grateful for.
"Yeah Dobby, glad to see you got my note. Well, what do you say?"
"It would be an honour Harry Potter!" he breathed, eyes wide.
"Good, we can talk about this more once we get to my new home."
With that, Harry and Dobby left Gringotts and waded through the busy Alley until they reached the side of Gringotts in a shadowed crevice. Having Dobby hold onto the portkey, which was a plain metallic bracelet (the two-way portkey needing a metal structure and cyclical shape to support the magic flow), and then Harry muttered the activation word ("eclipse") and then both were swept away in the magical currents of the device.
Harry landed in the grounds of the property, his feet cushioned in soft green grass that was rather overgrown, the standard charms laid on most wizarding land seemingly faded over the years of neglect the property had suffered. Turning full circle Harry was granted a large view of his lands. In the immediate area there was a thick forest that curved in a violent crescent moon from south to west and there was a sizeable lake to the east. The rest was untilled fields and such as far as he could see which Harry would enjoy shaping to his liking. To the north of his position rested the castle in all its stone glory, its age apparent yet captivating.
"Welcome Dobby, to Flammel Castle!"
Author's Note: Please let me know what you think. Thanks.