Disclaimer: I own nothing pertaining to Harry Potter, and precious little of this plot. This is my first attempt, and I need all the feedback I can get.

A/N: I'm still struggling with punctuation limitations. Please bear with me.

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The scheduled meeting of the Wizengamot was postponed, due to the chaos in London on the 31st. Draco Malfoy sulked at home, disappointed about not attending the meeting. Though he was still several months shy of his 17th birthday, and thus his majority, his mother would be moving for her to hold his vote until then. In all practicality, it would be Draco's vote, at least as he saw it.

Sullen and bored, he decided to go to the part of the manor that was specially warded to prevent anyone outside the manor, particularly the Ministry, from detecting what went on there.

Past the hidden entrance in the drawing room were a storage area for Dark objects, and a practice room for unforgivables, or an underage wizard.

After removing the disillusionment, and activating the trap door, Draco became confused. The door did not open, though , after the click of the door unlocking, a high pitched whistling ensued. He grabbed a letter opener from the nearby desk, and pried at the door. The whistle lowered in pitch, then the door flew open with a 'whump', causing Draco to fall backwards. A black cloud roiled out of the concealed room, darkening the area. Draco sneezed as he was enveloped in soot. He quickly got up, "scourgified" himself, and stole down the stairs. Casting 'lumos', he quickly discovered that the room where the dark artifacts were kept was completely burned out. A fortune in dark artifacts, and some rare dark spell books were completely destroyed. Draco briefly wondered if the happenings in London could have caused this as well, but dismissed it as absurd. Whatever had happened, he decided to place the blame as he usually did, he'd blame Potter.

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An emergency meeting took place at 10 Downing Street between the Prime Minister, the Home Secretary, CINCLAND, and a very upset Cornelius Fudge that evening. John Major began the meeting.

"Minister Fudge, I have been informed that the source of the havoc, and subsequent fear and rumor mongering, that befell London today came from your world. Would you care to explain? I'm sure the Home Secretary and the commander of Her Majesties Armed Forces would like an explanation." The Prime Minister's voice was not loud, but quite forceful.

Fudge looked like a boy caught with his hand in a tin of biscuits.

"Well, you see, we know the disturbance was magical in origin, but not who did it, or even how. Our Department of Mysteries would normally be the ones to figure all this out, but they were the hardest hit by it. Most of our magic detectors were damaged, or completely destroyed by the incident, including all of our underage magic detectors. I have been informed that our Obliviation Squads are pushed to their limits. Fortunately, the group least effected were the Aurors, so we can stay on guard against Lord Thingy, as it were." Fudges voice quieted toward the last few words.

General Sir John Wimsley had recently been named to the new position of CINCLAND, Commander in Chief of Land forces throughout most of the British Commonwealth. Upon assuming command, he was briefed on the existence of the magical world, and given a brief summary of their governmental structure and recent history.

"Minister Fudge, I have not been briefed on any 'Lord Thingy" nor any variation of that name. I was under the impression that few members of the magic community were of the peerage. Who is this man of whom you speak, and why must you guard against him? Is he a foreign national?"

Before Fudge could answer, Michael Howard, the Home Secretary, answered in such a way as to cause Fudge to wince.

"This 'Lord Thingy' is in fact a terrorist who has chosen the name 'Lord Voldemort' for himself. It seems the magical population is afraid to speak his name, even in print. He is usually referred to as 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named', or the ever-cryptic 'You-Know-Who'. He was quite active 25 to 15 years ago, and then he disappeared. According to the magical newspapers, he returned about a year ago, but the report was only verified 6 weeks ago, when he, and a dozen of his followers, known as Death Eaters, invaded the Ministry of Magic building, and was personally seen by the Minister here. Let me call in the DG, she's waiting outside."

A middle-aged woman entered the room, accompanied by an elderly man in wizarding robes. Fudge gasped as he identified the wizard as Algernon Croaker, who was the retired head of the Unspeakables.

Croaker smiled at Fudges gasp, and nodded in his direction. The woman approached Fudge, and extended a hand.

"Good evening Minister. I'm Stella Rimlington, Director General of Security, otherwise known as MI5."

Fudge reluctantly shook her hand, while staring at Croaker, who handed four sets of files to her.

Croaker then approached the others in the room.

"Gentlemen, I'm, Algernon Croaker. I am Mrs. Rimlington's opposite number in the magical world. The files she is now handing out are compilations of how both sides viewed the Effect, as it is now being referred to, as well as the files on possible suspects. What occurred today took an extraordinary amount of magic, and as a result, the list of people capable of doing this is small, but they represent the most powerful wizards in the country, if not the world."

As he spoke, the others scanned through the files. Fudge was surprised at the detail on the description of the chaos in the magical world, including copies of a few of his own memos from today.

Wimsley read in growing apprehension of the abilities of this 'Voldemort' and his band of terrorists. They made the Irish problems look like a walk in the park. The previous 'war' with this animal resulted in thousands of casualties. With the help of the monsters he was said to have made deals with in the past, that number could easily grow. A threat of this magnitude should have been brought to his attention.

Howard had a more extensive knowledge of the magical world than any other muggle in the room. As the son of a Squib, he knew much of average life in the magical world. After reading the reports of the first war with Voldemort, which he looked up as soon as he became Home Secretary, he had assigned the DG of Security to interact more fully with their magical equivalent, the security branch of the Unspeakables.

Reading these files now, he felt that decision vindicated. He looked through extensive files on Voldemort, Dumbledore, Flitwick, Moody, Arthur Weasley, Andromeda Tonks, McGonagall, and several Aurors. What surprised him was the next set of files, six files on school children, all between the ages of 14 and 16.

The name of Harry Potter stood out, of course. By some odd coincidence, today was Harry's birthday. Looking more in depth into the record, he noticed the time of birth was roughly the same time The Effect occurred.

"Mister Croaker, are you aware that Harry Potter was born sixteen years ago today, at almost the exact time of The Effect? Could a young man truly have created that havoc? Was it intentional, or accidental?" Mister Howard was clearly struggling with the idea.

"To answer your questions in order, yes, and we don't know twice. The Potter boy is an enigma, even to the Unspeakables. The vast majority of his file contains hearsay and speculation. Albus Dumbledore has controlled all information about the boy, and he plays his cards close to the vest. The only hard facts we've been able to garner have come to us recently, through the use of a new asset. He led the other five you have files on to the Ministry of magic six weeks ago. He believed someone close to him was in danger, and engineered what we would term 'an op' on the fly. He found a way to get from Hogwarts, the Wizarding School in Scotland, to London, penetrated into the Unspeakable research department, into one on the most protected rooms, the Hall of Prophesy. These six school children were attacked by twice their number in Death Eaters. The children fought these terrorists to a standstill for half an hour, before help arrived."

"We were able to read the magical signatures of all the battle's participants. Only three people measured higher than Mr. Potter. They were Albus Dumbledore, Voldemort, and Bellatrix Lestrange. His magic was also seemingly bound, like a young child's binding, but that should have worn off long ago. If he was able to do what he's done all these years with his power bound, if the binding were suddenly removed, something like The Effect could happen."

Silence ensued while everyone digested that bit of information. Croaker then cleared his throat and continued.

"However, this is just speculation. Until we can know for sure, we will watch those we can locate, and attempt to locate the others so we can watch them."

"What about the secondary parts of The Effect, what would cause them?" Sir John Wimsley persisted.

"Those were rebounds from Diagon Alley and the Ministry of Magic." Croaker answered, obviously happy, as he was asked a question he could answer.

Wimsley scowled in concentration at his folders.

"Prime Minister, I have a company of SAS trained to deal with the magical world. I would like permission to place them on temporary duty to assist these, what are they called, Aurors. Regardless of what happened today, this Voldemort character targets non-magical civilians more than any other group, and we have to protect the public."

Fudge started to sputter about the separation, but he was abruptly cut off by the Prime Minister.

"I'll authorize it. Have your men report to Croaker here. Fudge, your world seems to be encroaching on ours, and the separation only works with minimal interaction. If I feel the need to call you into this office again, I'll ask Her Majesty to dissolve your medieval little government, and put you all under the jurisdiction of the Home Secretary, is that clear?"

Fudge stood in a huff. "You think you will, do you? If you call again, you won't see me. The little fracas today postponed what will probably be a vote of no confidence. I'd be surprised if you don't see the new minister before the month is out. Another thing, I wouldn't threaten the next minister that way. We were protecting out people when you were nothing more than robber barons. Our ministry has been around longer than the last 2 royal lines. We swore fealty to a Norman king, not Tudors, Stuarts, or Wyndhams. I came here as a courtesy, not because you required I come. Good Day!" Fudge punctuated his departure with the crack of apperation.

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The morning of August first dawned late for Harry, in that he woke up at 8:00, as opposed to his usual 5:30. As he held Nym close, he noticed that they were bonded down to their magical cores. The second thing he noticed was that he didn't to have to invoke astral sight, it seemed like it was always on.

Such thoughts vanished as his wife snuggled closer, and his attention became focused on the beautiful witch he held. The term 'wife' startled him briefly, then his emotions threatened to overwhelm him. 'My wife', he thought happily, he couldn't remember ever feeling this content. He gently disentangled himself to begin his morning ablutions.

Nym awoke an hour later, as Harry was just getting dressed for the day.

"And what do you think you are doing, Mr. Potter? What do you need those clothes for? I didn't get enough of you yet, so you will get back to bed this instant, young man!" Nym teased in a McGonagall-like voice, a sultry smile on her face.

Harry, who thought he was beyond it, still found himself blushing. He was not tongue tied, however, and answered quietly.

"I thought you'd be a bit sore after last night. I know where it would go if I stayed on bed, and I didn't want to hurt you."

Nym was touched and furious at the same time. Before she could formulate a response, two rather imperious looking owls swooped into the room, landing on the footboard of their bed. Harry was a little surprised to find he could understand the owls, each arguing that their letter was more important than any other. He stunned the birds when he answered them in kind, telling them they were both, no doubt, important, and he would read both letters as soon as possible.

One letter was from Gringotts, the other from the Ministry. After retrieving both, Harry chuckled as Hedwig put both owls in their place, berating their attitudes. He opened the Gringotts letter first.

Mr. Potter,

As of yesterday, you have reached your majority, and, as such, you are requested to come to our Diagon Alley offices to formally take over the Potter and Gryffindor vaults. We would appreciate it if you could meet with us as soon as possible, as there is 14 years of investment history to summarize, as well as two family rings to take into your possession.

Cordially

Ragnot

Well, that was not really unexpected. Harry handed the Gringotts letter to Nym, as he opened the Ministry letter.

Lord Potter,

The Wizengamot will be meeting on Friday, August 4th at 19:00. As you have come into your majority, you are requested to attend, and be formally inducted into the Legislative Wizengamot, House of Lords.

As a Lord, Count of Gwynnedd, and High Protector of Wales, the Potter seat holds 35 votes. As Lord, Viscount of Caithness, and High Protector of Magic, the Gryffindor seat holds 50 votes. You may vote any of your votes as you choose.

Foremost in this meeting, there will be a vote of confidence held as pertains to Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. There are also several funding referenda up for discussion, though; no new appropriations can be passed until the now vacant Chancellor of the Exchequer, formerly Lord Lucius Malfoy, is filled.

Please reply promptly with a disposition as to whether you will attend.

Secretary of Protocol, Francis McMillan Esq.

Surprised by the letter, and handed it over to Nym as well, deep in thought. As both letters sunk in, the reality suddenly dawned. He was Heir of Gryffindor!

He handed the second letter to Nym in a bit of a daze. Is this what Dumbledore meant when they spoke after the Chamber of Secrets? It seems that everyone knows, except Harry.

Turning to Nym, Harry revised that last thought, as she seemed as stunned as he did.

"Harry, I had no idea you were heir to Gryffindor! Do you realize this will put on the Board of Governors of Hogwarts? Maybe you can put Dumbledore in his place. Wait, he would know you were an heir!" Nym was growing agitated.

Harry nodded. "Yet another in a long line of things he didn't tell me, for 'my own good', or 'to let me have a normal childhood'. If I was going to have all these responsibilities as an adult, when did he think I should start to learn about them? I would have become an adult officially in one year. How was I supposed to learn all my subjects at school, and estate management, law, civic responsibilities, and the appropriate Wizarding traditions associated with all of this?

Sudden realization dawned on him. With an astonished look, and a subdued voice, Harry continued.

"Unless he wasn't going to have me trained at all, except for combat training. The only logical reason he wouldn't train me as yet is to keep me sheltered, and dependant on him. He hoped for me to see him as the only way to defeat Voldemort, and to leave my family legacy and responsibilities to him to handle as he saw fit. The only real question is weather he did it just to remain in control, or if he was just going according to his 'plan for the greater good'."

They stared at each other, speechless for a moment. Harry hardened his face in resolve. His aura flared, then dimmed, so that it appeared he was surrounded by a halo.

"Nym, please get dressed, I intend to go to Gringotts today, and would appreciate your company." His face cracked a lopsided smile. "Although I appreciate your present attire, I don't think it would be fair to those poor unfortunate souls in Diagon Alley to see what they can't have."

Nym leaped out of bed and tackled her now laughing husband.

"It's still early, and you owe me for that last crack. I'll get dressed after I take my payment out of your hide. Come to bed, like I told you to before, and we'll go to Gringotts after lunch."

Harry shortly found out that Nym wasn't sore at all, as they spent the next two hours exploring and honing their technique for pleasuring each other.

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Just before lunch, Harry flooed Gringotts, and sent a letter to the Wizengamot. Telling them he would be there.

The new couple felt slightly out of sorts having their lunch made for them by Dobby and Winky. Both decided to invite Remus to join them on their visit to Gringotts, which he readily accepted.

Just before they left, Nym cornered Harry for a quick, but intense, kiss. As Harry was recovering, Nym whispered to him.

"Harry, dear, you are glowing. I think it's impressive, but you're easy enough to spot normally. Could you see if you can tone it down a bit, maybe even use it to change your appearance?"

Harry concentrated on his aura, as he could always see it, and pushed the light sideways, or, at least that's how it felt to him. Nym gasped and started to laugh.

"You have to teach me that one Harry. You just disappeared. It isn't like disillusionment either, as you leave no shadow. Why don't you try something else?"

Learning as he went, he tried aiming the light back toward himself, causing another gasp from his wife, as she stepped back.

"Now you are a ball of darkness. What are you doing? Are you affecting the light directly? Maybe you should try to affect what is causing the light."

Harry released all controls he was applying to the light, and carefully examined his aura. The light seemed to come from the point where the containment, that Aurora taught him, met the air around it. He then modified that flexible wall, and made it thicker, but more diffuse. He noticed a light go away, and concentrated hard to NOT see astrally. Apparently the light was gone, and now he knew what to look for next time.

Next, he shot his wand out of the forearm holster he was given as a birthday/wedding present. Before he could speak 'Muto identia' , the glamour was already applied.

Nym smiled at him in a bittersweet way. "You could pass for a young Sirius. I don't think it would be a good idea to meet Remus looking like that."

Harry swallowed, trying to hide his own emotions, and changed the glamour to short blond hair, as opposed to long black.

The glowing problem solved, and an appropriate glamour set, they flooed to the Leaky Cauldron.

Remus didn't recognize the tall blond man with the raven-haired beauty at his side by how they looked, but by scent. Walking up to them, he addressed them warmly.

"Dora, James, how good to see you both." Remus hugged them, and escorted them out of the inn toward the Alley.

"I must say, Harry, that is a very good glamour. Nym, as always, if I didn't have my furry little problem, I couldn't have recognized you."

The couple smiled at the compliments, and Harry now fully realized how accomplished Remus was at duplicity. Coming up with false names, while ones they would know, on the fly. Harry knew he was seeing the Marauder for the first time.

The Alley was busy, as was usual for this time of day. Harry noticed the devastation in Knockturn Alley as they passed its entrance, but saved his questions for later.

When they entered the bank, Harry fought the urge to stare at the wards, that appeared to him as multi-colored geometric patterns connected by varying thicknesses of lines and curves. When he got to the counter, the goblin looked at him blankly, and seemed to move his hand under the counter. Harry saw a multi-hued light hit him from the direction of the goblin, and saw whatever spell it was shatter in his aura, which flared briefly at the contact. The goblin's eyes widened, and he moved his hand in the same way again. Harry clenched his fist, they were attacking him, and the goblin yelped in pain, as he pulled his hand out from under the counter, shaking it, staring disbelievingly at the waft of smoke drifting up from where his hand was.

"My friends and I are here to see Ragnot, who has asked us to come." Harry said somewhat tightly, handing the letter to the surprised goblin.

"My apologies, Lord Potter. The spell was not an attack, just a way for us to see through glamours, as we need to know who we are dealing with." The goblin sputtered an apology, then motioned to another goblin standing behind the tellers.

"Take over here, I need to take these humans to Ragnot. This one is supposed to be the Archon, or at least that's the popular theory. He just fried my entire defensive board without a wand or a word."

Upon hearing this conversation, Harry realized they were speaking Gobbledygook. Before he could fully contemplate the meaning or effects of his realization, the goblin returned, once more acting solicitous.

"I am Hamfast, if you will follow me please?" The goblin spoke in English, after which he led them through a labyrinth of hallways. Somehow, when they reached their destination, Harry knew they had been led round the long way, and that Ragnot's was no more than a few hundred feet from the entrance of the bank.

As they entered, Hamfast spoke to Ragnot in Gobbledygook.

"Here are the humans you wanted to see. The one called Potter destroyed my teller defense board, left it smoldering. He didn't say anything, or lift a wand. He seemed to know that I hit him with a glamour revealing spell."

Ragnot looked to be a much older goblin, and was observing Harry as Hamfast spoke, his eyes narrowed.

"I think you missed something in your report Hamfast. While listening to your report, I was watching the party you led in here. If Lord Potter is the yellow haired one, I do believe he understands our language."

Hamfast spun to stare at Harry, mouth agape. Harry had to fight a smile, as he spoke to them in their own tongue.

"It is a recent development, Ragnot. I seem to be able to understand and speak Gobbledygook. It's as great a surprise to me as it is to you. Would you mind if we switched to English, so my friends could understand what's being said?"

"Of course, Lord Potter, we will speak so all present can understand." Ragnot answered in English. "We would not want to be rude to our customers, right Hamfast?"

Hamfast nodded and beat a hasty retreat, as Ragnot invited them to sit. The goblin slid a parchment over to Harry, and said, "Please place your thumb on the circle at the corner of the sheet. It will take a drop of your blood, and then the parchment will fill up with the name of any family to which you are the heir."

Harry pressed his thumb to the parchment, and felt the sting of blood being withdrawn, then gasped as several strands of magic shot from the parchment to a box on Ragnot's desk, then shot downward. Intuitively Harry's 'sight' followed the strands to a room some 200ft below them, where there were thousands of blood samples stored.

As Harry brought his awareness back to himself, he noticed several names appearing.

They read:

Potter''

Gryffindor''

Black''

McGonagall

Lupin

Petigrew

MacManus

Wallace''

Jones (xiii)

Vellitti''

Gwynedd''

Caithness''

Hagrid

Harry stared at the sheet in shock. Nym was looking between the sheet and Remus, speechless.

"Each name with a quote denotes that you are the head of that family, or owner of that vault. For the other names, you are the designated heir. Potter, Gryffindor, Caithness and Gwynedd are together, Potter being the only family vaults. Black and Vellitti are also grouped, though few Blacks have visited the Vellitti vault. You are the 52nd person to come into the possession of the Wallace vault. As of yet, none have been able to enter it."

Ragnot smiled his disturbing goblin smile. "The probate on the Black will ended with this heritage test today. Would you like to see any or all of your 12 vaults today, Lord Potter?"

Harry numbly nodded, and Ragnot led the three to a waiting cart, where a much younger goblin waited. He stood as the group entered,

"Lord Potter, I am Firmblade. It is my honor to escort you to your vaults. Please ask for me each time you come to Gringotts. It has been my family's task to oversee the Potter, Gryffindor, and associated vaults since their inception. Where would you like to go first?"

Nym and Remus were shocked. They had never seen a goblin so polite to anyone. Harry didn't seem to notice, as he was looking through the paperwork, which listed the vaults and their contents.

"Could you take us to the Wallace vault, number 356? There is nothing written on what is in it other than an estimate on Galleons, roughly seven million."

"Of course, Lord Potter. If you and your party will follow me, we'll get started."

Firmblade led them to a cart that looked different than any they had seen before. The seats were overstuffed and plush, covered in bright red and blue cloth. Harry noticed the web work of spells on the cart, and everyone noticed how background noise disappeared when they took their seats.

The ride was unlike any of them had before. Though the cart moved as fast, or even faster, than a normal cart, the ride was quiet, only the slightest trace of wind, and the sharp turns and ups and downs did not feel as abrupt and powerful as they obviously were.

Quickly they arrived at vault 356. Firmblade opened the vault door, only to see the contents of the vault were blurred, on the other side of an arch. This arch was apparently made of marble, with moonstones set along the underside. It bore on unsettling resemblance to the arch in the Death Chamber in the Department of Mysteries.

To astral sight, the arch opened into a spartan room, with what resembled a bier in the middle of it. On the bier rested a huge man, only slightly smaller than Hagrid. A sword lay on top of the man, his hands holding the hilt to the center of his chest, the blade extending down past his knees.

Harry walked straight in, and felt himself pulled bodily into the Astral Plane.

Remus and Nym saw Harry enter the arch and disappear. Before either could question the goblin, Firmblade told them this was normal for this vault, and everyone who entered came back.

As Harry entered the arch, the man on the bier sat up, resting the sword across his knees. He wore a long yellow shirt that went halfway down his thighs, with a belt holding it in around his waist. He had green pants, or were they called trews. His boots went up to mid calf.

He smiled at Harry, and shook his head. He had long red-blonde hair and blue eyes.

"Yiur by far the youngest lad who's come to me. How did ya inherit while still a bairn, my lad?"

His Scottish burr was far stronger than Professor MacGonagalls.

"Weel, there's nothing for it. Choose yiur weapon, or turn about, for yiur not getting in here whi'out a fight."

Harry held out his hand, and the Sword of Gryffindor appeared in it. The large Scot stood and smiled.

"Yiur the firs' in weel nigh 300 year to draw a blade. Have at you, then."

He advanced quickly, aiming a downward chop at Harry, who leapt to the side. Despite his quick dodge, Harry was hard pressed to keep the man away. After what seemed like forever, a slash and riposte maneuver disarmed Harry. As the Scot's blade was descending for the coup de gras, Harry banished the man, and summoned his blade.

Harry was ready to go on the offensive when the man started to laugh. Harry had banished him into the bier, and he hit with enough force to do an unintentional back flip over it. Pulling himself off the floor, he sat once again on the bier, his laughter reduced to chuckling.

"It seems tha' you bested me." The man ruefully shook his head.

"I only got in one shot, how does that beat you?" Harry asked incredulously.

"But it was I who built yon arch, lad. Magic is supposed to be impossible here. I pulled you in ta the dream world, and locked down all magic here. According ta the books I read, Merlin was the only one who coulda cast spells here. So who are ya, lad?"

With a thought, the Sword of Gryffindor vanished, and Harry advanced to shake hands with this man.

"I'm Harry Potter, sir. I'm told I'm your 52nd heir." The other man's hand engulfed Harry's hand gently.

"I'm William Wallace. I'm surprised it took so long for one of my clan to marry into the Lord Protector's clan"

Harry's eyebrows shot up at the mention of the Famous Scots name.

"Weel, here's the real treasure in my vault. These 5 books woulda defeated the English, had I been a more powerful wizard."

Harry looked at the titles. Three began with 'Legio XXII Valeria Victrix'. The other two read 'Arithmatica' and 'Epistula Germania'.

"Go, lad, and use these books well. You can hardly do worse than I".

Harry stepped forward, and felt himself leave the dream world. Behind him, he heard the sighs of relief from Nym and Remus.

The vault held gold, the books, and what appeared to be the sword that Wallace had used in the astral plane. Harry grabbed the books, which were in a portable carrier, and left the vault. As he walked back through the arch, he felt and saw it de-activate.

"It's always going to be something with you, isn't it, Harry" Nym said, hugging the wizard in question.

"Where to next?"

Looking over the paperwork, Harry scowled. " Caithness and Gwynedd vaults are just money and titles. The Vellitti vault is heirlooms and money. I say the next stop should be Gryffindor. After that, there are two Potter and 3 Black vaults."

The trip to vault 12, the Gryffindor vault, was longer than any of them expected. The last 5 minutes of the trip was at slow speed through small and winding passages. The vault door was flanked by two griffin statues, both en rampant.

"Lord Potter, you must approach the door alone, and place your hand in the circle at the center. After the vault's magic recognizes you, your friends may follow."

Harry followed the goblins instructions, placing his right hand in the circle. He watched as his touch keyed the magic protecting the vault. Both griffin statues bowed their heads, and the doors opened.

There was a wall some 3 meters from the doors, and hallways led left and right. Directly in front of him was a painting of Godric Gryffindor.

"James? Is that you?" The painting asked peering at him closely.

"Merlin, is that you, Harry? I seem to loose the ability to determine the passage of time if I'm not visited often. Where are your parents?"

At Harry's pained look, Godric renewed his scrutiny.

"They never made it out of hiding, did they?"

Harry shook his head sadly, but couldn't seem to find any words.

Godrics expression clouded, then his eyebrows rose in shock.

"You were the one who summoned my sword, three years ago was it! What could have possibly happened to you that you needed it?"

Harry related the story of the Chamber of Secrets to his famous ancestor. As they spoke, Nym and Remus came forward, and introductions were made all around.

Godric then explained to all that Gryffindor was more of a title than a name, given because of his affinity with those creatures. He then explained that one wing of this vault held his journals, going over the building of Hogwarts, the enchantment of the sorting hat, and of course the forging of his sword.

The other wing contained books on the entirety of wizarding law, self-updating, as well as land titles and the certificates to hold a Board of Governors seat at Hogwarts, and the Lord Protector of Magic title. The group left the vault with the titles, Godrics journals, and the scabbard for the Sword of Gryffindor.

Having taken longer than expected, Harry just picked up letters left by Sirius and his parents, as well as a few good books on defense, transfiguration, and charms, out of the Black and Potter vaults. The group then quickly returned to Grimmauld Place to have lunch, as well as sort out the massive inheritances that had just fallen into their laps.