Friday the 19th dawned clear and bright. The Ministry of Magic Atrium however was dark and gloomy, the few who made it into work on time hurrying through. No sunlight ever touched the cold floor here. The Fountain of Magical Brethren still lay in ruins, the remains of the statues piled up in the pool. The atmosphere was oppressive, fear laden.
One of the Floo grates flared, and Amelia Bones strode out. Unlike the others emerging she walk upright, back straight. She refused to be cowed. Despite the attack and destruction of her home, she refused to yield to Voldemort or his shadow.
Waiting for one of the lifts to return, she was joined by a man. "Erik." She smiled slightly to the taller, pale blond. Despite the supposed 'Dark' leaning of his family, Amelia had gotten on well with the Greengrass family. Lord Greengrass was a most formidable man, who had a soldier's hard edge to him that she recognised and respected. Yet, he was also softly spoken and eloquent, winning him support in the Wizengamot. She'd met his son Erikson several years back; when she'd had a tip off that his potion supply business was using illegal means to procure ingredients. As it turned out, the 'Tip-off' had been part of plan to discredit the Greengrasses, the evidence planted. Amelia suspected, but could never prove that the 'former' Death Eaters - likely Lucius - were behind things, to punish the Greengrasses for not following Voldemort. Afterwards, they had formed a casual friendship and healthy respect for each other.
"Amelia." He replied blue eye's sparkling with mirth.
As the lift arrived she glanced at the rolls of parchment he held... rolls that had the same legends as her own. "Contracts Office?"
Erikson smiled in reply, his eyes dropping to the rolls that poked out of the bag she carried. "Yes. I see Mister Potter was serious." He said as the doors closed.
"I have found that he does not joke around in matters such as this." Amelia answered. She sighed after a few moments. "I would love to be a fly on the wall during the Sirius Black will reading though."
Erikson nodded. "I'm sure that it will be an... interesting reading. Given what I know of those who will be attending..."
Just like in the Ministry, Diagon Alley was fear laden, the air heavy. Those few that were out and about hurried from shop to shop, heads bowed and shoulders hunched. Whereas in past years the shopkeepers had displayed goods outside their storefronts, now everything was tucked away inside. Everyone was watching everyone else, jumping at shadows and constantly checking to see where the nearest bolthole was, just in case...
Three figures walked briskly down the Alley, two of them with their heads bowed beneath the hooded robes they wore. Although there were a few others out and about, neither wished to be recognised. In contrast, the third strutted along like he owned the whole alley. Draco Malfoy had gone all out, splashing out on expensive clothing to fit a true noble like himself. It was only proper, after all, that the heir to two rich, noble families be dressed in the finest. It was paid for with money that he technically didn't own yet, but such matters never concerned the young Malfoy. Behind him his mother and aunt watched every figure they passed, hoping...
Both witches exhaled in relief when they stepped over the threshold into Gringotts. Even Voldemort knew that Gringotts was Goblin Land, and thus Neutral territory. Not that that stopped him from putting pressure on the Goblins to side with him. In the end, the Goblins had stayed out of the conflict, making profits by working both sides.
The three made their way past the tellers towards the rear of the bank floor. Narcissa Malfoy lowered her hood, allowing her pale blond hair to fall back into place. "Could you direct us to Goldbag?" she asked politely, if a little coldly, to the Goblin sat at the Enquires desk. In response the Goblin looked at her, nodded slowly - with the merest hint of a scowl - before gesturing to his side. A younger looking Goblin stepped forward, and after a brief burst of Gooblygook, turned to the two witches and one young wizard.
"Follow me."
He led them over to one of the doors at the rear of the bank floor that fed into one of the passageways that formed the banks inner offices. At the far end they reached a solid looking set of double doors, with a pair of armoured goblin guards. Entering, they saw clusters of chairs were scattered about, all facing a podium with a suited Goblin stood behind it, shuffling parchment about. "Three to see you Adjudicator Goldbag." The younger goblin intoned as he stopped before the podium.
"Very well." The elder Goblin looked at Narcissa shrewdly. "Lady Malfoy, Mr Malfoy, you are expected." His gaze shifted to the second witch, who had yet to remove her hood, while Draco looked like he was about to speak until his mother's hand landed on his shoulder. "Mrs LeStrange, I assume?"
Bella, her hands shaking, pulled the hood back enough to reveal her face to the Goblin. He nodded in satisfaction.
"Good. Please take a seat while we await the others. Also remember that while you may keep your wands, they are not to be drawn at anytime during the reading. We don't want any... accidents."
Both Narcissa and Bellatrix nodded in understanding, but Draco spoke out. "How dare you demand that I wait like some pathetic muggle! Everything belongs to me by right!"
Goldbag looked down his nose at the young... man. "You have no way of knowing that. You will receive what if bequeathed to you in the Will, and only that. Now, sit down."
"Draco!" Narcissa glared at her son when he opened his mouth once more. "Do as he says!" The rebuke was clear in her tone.
Draco looked at her startled, shocked at her tone. "Why should I?" He snapped.
"Because if you don't, you lose any and all inheritances you may have gained." Goldbag said slowly.
Draco scowled, clearly furious, but held his tongue and followed his mother. Then his eyes fell on the two figures sat to one side.
Harry and Hermione had arrived early, to bring in the various contracts and documents that had been finalised only last night. Both had looked up as the three figures stepped through the doorway, Harry's eyes narrowing as he saw who they were, while Hermione scowled... a scowl that Draco returned when he realised they were there.
"Potter! Come to see me claim what is rightfully mine back from that mangy blood traitor?" His eyes moved to Hermione, a leer forming on his face. "Though did you have to bring the mudblood along too? You almost look respectable in those robes Granger. Too bad your blood is so dirty, but at least you make a fine piece of eye candy..."
"Come over here and say that Draco." Hermione snapped, eyes aflame.
Draco sneered. "That tongue is going to get you into trouble mudblood. You had better watch what you say, otherwise someone might just..." He made a reaching motion with his hand, before curling the fingers in and drawing his hand back. "...remove it."
"Just try it Malfoy." Harry said coldly. Draco's eyes jumped to him. Harry had spoken coldly, but surely. That hadn't been a hot-blooded threat, but a promise. It sent a shiver of fear up the young Malfoy's spine.
Behind him, Narcissa shook her head in despair. If ever she needed proof that Draco was just a dumber, brasher version of his father, she had in spades now. There was no redeeming him. Mentally shaking herself, she looked over at Harry... the young man she hoped would be able to set her free. His eyes were hard as he looked back, sending shivers up her spine. She just hoped they could convince him to help.
At her side, Bellatrix was shaking like a leaf. Harry's eyes had filled with rage when they alighted on her. She was the reason they were all here today. Bella was terrified of the young man now... but she was even more terrified that he would not help her. Meeting his eyes for a moment, she said nothing, but cast her eyes downward and bowed her head, a sure sign of submission.
Harry frowned at her actions. This was not the Bellatrix he'd fought only a couple of weeks ago. She walked differently, hunched over and inward. And her eyes... she'd been looking at him, but the expression was... strange. He hoped Hermione would be able to shed some light on the subject. Still, the image of his godfather falling backwards into the Veil played over in his mind, and he clenched a fist in an attempt to control his urge to physically cave in her skull...
Hermione's hand wrapped around his free one. Breathing deeply, Harry slowly relaxed. He turned to thank her... but before he could speak another person stepped through the door.
"Oh no... here we go..." He muttered as Dumbledore swept across the floor towards Goldbag.
"Before we start, I have to submit the following updated Will of Sirius Black, along with..."
"That is impossible Dumbledore." Goldbag made no effort to take the parchment that Dumbledore was holding out. "A new Will can only be submitted by the writer of the Will in question, or a witness to a previous version with a signed form from the writer themselves. You are neither."
Dumbledore's face took on a sorrowful expression. "Sirius wrote this only couple of weeks before his untimely demise. I witnessed it myself. Sadly, due to his legal circumstances, it was impossible to get this to Gringotts before now. It has been a very trying few weeks."
Goldbag however remain impassive. "Be that as it may, you are still not Sirius Black, nor a Witness of the Will on file with Gringotts. That... parchment you hold is of no more importance than toilet paper."
Dumbledore adopted a sorrowful look. "Would you really ignore the last wishes of Sirius?"
"I already have his last wishes." Goldbag lifted the scroll on his desk, the Gringotts seal clear. "Right here."
Dumbledore sighed. "Very well, be it on your head it may." He returned the scroll he held to one pocket, before withdrawing two folded sheets of parchment. "I also have to regretfully report that both Mister Potter and Miss Granger will not be able to attend, and have authorised me to act as their proxies in this matter." He extended the parchments to Goldbag.
Goldbag turned to regard Harry and Hermione. "Mister Potter, Miss Granger, did you do this?" He asked lightly. Harry had to hide his smirk when Dumbledore spun around to look at them, jaw hanging open.
"I assure you Account Master Goldbag, neither I nor Miss Granger agreed to anything of the sort."
Goldbag turned back to look at Dumbledore. "Take a seat, and remove those offensive fabrications from my sight."
Dumbledore however was not even paying attention to him, as he stepped towards Harry and Hermione. "Harry... what are you doing here?"
Harry frowned. "You really have to ask that question Headmaster?"
"Harry... It's not safe for you to wander about like this. Come... let me act as your proxy while you go home. You need time to grieve, to reflect. Doing this now is just going to hurt you even more."
"No."
Dumbledore jerked backwards slightly. "Pardon, my boy?"
"I said no, Headmaster." Harry told firmly. "I intend to sit here and listen to the Will of my Godfather. A Godfather I never got the chance to really know thanks to you. Perhaps you are developing a hearing problem?"
"Harry... you have to return home. Your family is very worried about you..."
"If you are referring to the Dursleys, I assure you headmaster that you are gravely mistaken if you think they are worried about me! Hell, if they heard I'd gone under a bus, I think they'd have a celebration!"
Dumbledore was looking pale under his beard. "Are you really that callous, Harry? The wards will start to fail soon if you stay away for too long, only you returning will bring them back to full strength..."
"Why should I care?" Harry snapped back, finished with playing nice. "After all the care they've shown me?" The sarcasm was clear in his words.
Hermione turned her head to speak to Harry, deliberately talking loud enough so that the Headmaster could hear her. "We have to ensure that he gets a copy of the report when we take them to the police Harry."
"He won't take any notice." Harry replied bitterly. "Even if he saw it happen in front of him, he'd still refuse to believe that they treat me like that..."
Dumbledore backed away unsteadily, his thoughts in a mess. Had Harry fallen so far, to the darkness as to believe that he was that blind? That he would allow someone to be tortured before him with no reaction on his part? And what of Miss Granger? If she thought that the muggle Aurors were needed...
Could it be he was, Merlin forbid it, wrong?
Almost an hour later Goldbag looked over the assembled witches and wizards. It was just before ten, and nearly everyone was here... with the exception of the eldest and youngest Weasley's. He glanced towards the clock on the wall: they had less than a minute...
At that moment the blustering, overbearing figure of Molly Weasley came dashing in, dragging her youngest son Ronald by the hand. Just behind the two were Arthur and Ginerva Weasley. The four stood for a moment, getting their breath back, while behind them the guards closed the doors. On his parchment Goldbag ticked off the last names on the list.
"Harry, dear!" Molly's loud voice filled the room when she finally spied Harry sat to one side. Her smile faded however when she saw that Hermione was sat beside him.
"Hello Mrs Weasley." Harry's reply was cool, distant.
Molly looked affronted, but before she could say anything Ron noticed them.
"Mom look, it's 'arry an Hermi!" All eyes focused on the young man, who was wavering on his feet. Behind him Ginny flushed red and hid her face in her fathers chest.
"Be seated, everyone." Goldbag spoke sternly. Molly pulled Ron back with to the nearest empty seats to Harry... though they were still half way across the room. Arthur and Ginny settled down behind them.
"Very well. Now that we are all here..."
"A moment." Dumbledore stood up, interrupting Goldbag. "I, in the best interests of those gathered, have to ask who they are, and why they are here?" He gestured towards the wall behind Harry, where Susan Bones and Daphne Greengrass sat in a bench seat... while almost directly him a figure stood, wrapped in a hooded robe that complete hid any trace of the person underneath.
Hermione looked enquiringly to Goldbag, who nodded to her. "Those are our friends, Headmaster, as you know well. They are here partly because they asked to be here, but also at the primary beneficiaries' invitation."
"Hah! That a joke Mudblood?" Draco sneered. Goldbag noted that most of the people there looked darkly at the... young man. "Why would I wish to mix with such traitors?" He now glared imperiously at Goldbag. "Get on with it Goblin, and hand me the keys and rights to the Black name. The smell of Blood Traitors, Mudbloods and other filth is getting to me."
From the expressions around the room, it was clear that only the presence of the Goblin Guards kept young Malfoy from being torn to shreds. Then Goldbag saw the expression on the nearest guards face. If Draco had been attacked, they wouldn't have stopped it. And might have added a few blows themselves.
Still, there was business to attend to. "I will now read the Will." He stated firmly, unsealing the scroll.
The next few minutes passed quickly; the format for wills was very well established. He noted that most of the youngsters looked bored with the legal details, though Miss Granger was paying attention.
"Section three: bequeathments." Everyone sat up straighter, and young Malfoy's face split into a self-satisfied smirk.
"To the Weasley twins, Fred and George, I leave nine thousand galleons." Jaws dropped, none more so than the twins. Molly Weasley began to open her mouth - likely to yell in outrage, given her expression - so Goldbag pressed on. "Neither of your parents can touch this money, no matter what they say. The first three is for supporting yourselves and your future families. The rest is for investment in your joke shop. Keep the dream alive boys. In the spirit of which, I also leave all my journals and notes from my years as a Marauder. You should get a kick out of them."
From the expressions on their faces, it appeared the twins were on the verge of getting down on their knees and bowing to the static painting of Sirius that was hung just to the right of Goldbag.
"To Minerva McGonagall, I leave both apologies for all the hair we made turn grey during our years at Hogwarts..." a light blush appeared on the stern Professors cheeks. "...And some funds for Hogwarts use. I know that you yourself have no need of more money, so to you personally I leave the two cases of finest Scotch Whiskey I discovered in my families wine cellar. I've already checked it all for poisons and the like.
"The money I leave is to redress an imbalance. I heard that Malfoy bought a whole set of brooms for his old houses team. 2001's if I heard correctly. Not an ideal choice, but then Lucius has never been one for making the right choice."
"How dare that..." Draco snarled.
"SILENCE!" Goldbag snapped, glaring at the young... person. "Either contain yourself or leave now."
Draco glared back, but kept quiet. Harry noted however that his hand dropped to his right boot for a moment before lifting up again as Goldbag resumed reading the will.
"Therefore, I leave a set of thirty Nimbus 2000's, to be shared equally between Gryiffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff. The extra's as spares. I also leave thirty Cleansweep Trainers for the broom riding classes. Those old broken things you're still using should have been kindling when I first started. Merlin knows what they're like now."
Harry and Hermione shared a glance, remembering their first broom lesson.
"To Arthur Weasley, I bequeath a sum of five thousand galleons, for your own use alone. Do whatever you wish with it; renovate your home, take early retirement, or buy up vast amounts of non-magical items, your choice. I would, however, advise you to purchase some books explaining how non-magical things work, rather than poking about yourself. I had Lily to explain things, and what not to do. You don't want to have something happen Arthur. Magic may be good, but there are limits to what we can fix."
Arthur had looked bewildered for a moment, but then he gained a look of understanding as Goldbag continued. "To Molly Weasley, I had originally planned to leave you a similar amount as your husband, for opening your home to Harry. But... then I learned of your motives. I saw how you acted. I know now that you acted not out of the kindness of your heart, but from pure greed."
Molly was on her feet in an instant, her face red with rage. "Now see here..."
"SILENCE!" Goldbag roared, eyes glaring like spears at her. Molly froze, stunned into silence. "Molly Weasley, you are already in trouble with Gringotts; one more outburst and you be removed from this building!" Almost as pale as Malfoy, Molly slowly sank back into her seat. Harry noticed that Arthur was watching his wife with an unreadable expression. After glaring at her for a few moments more, Goldbag refocused on the Will.
"...From pure greed. Mark my words Mrs Weasley; you have no right to dictate the lives of others. You can't make other people's choices for them, including your children. Love can not be directed nor controlled." Arthur was now scowling at Molly, while others were looking at in surprise and suspicion. "I don't care how you live your life, but in trying to control my godson, you've made an enemy of the House of Black. I hope you are satisfied with what you have done. I suspect that Harry's choice of wife will leave a bitter taste in your mouth, and I can't think of a more suitable punishment.
"Remus Lupin, my dear friend... by now you should have already put into play the plans and thoughts I left you in the pre-hearing." Dumbledore sat upright sharply, eyes wide. "Just to let everyone know, I'm leaving you the deed for my old house - no, not my parents one, the flat I living in after Hogwarts - twenty-five thousand galleons, and a few thoughts. It's all up to you to teach a new generation of Marauders now. Let Harry learn of his heritage, and pass on what we learned and know. And remember what I told you before; you are not a monster. Look after our pup Moony.
"To Andromeda Tonks and her daughter Nymphadora..." Tonks muttered something before her mother lightly slapped the back of her hand. "...I leave ten thousand for Andi personally, another five as a belated Dowry for your husband Ted, and fifteen thousand for Nymphadora. I also offer the following: Reinstatement into the House of Black for you Andi, and welcome into the same for your husband and daughter. I can only guess how much being cast out hurt you Andi, but I guess it runs deep. While I could not go through with it myself, my heir has the right and means once he takes up the mantle. Speak with him later. I also ask you look out for him in the years to come: he'll need every help he can get."
Draco chuckled. "Oh, like I need the help of a Blood Traitor!" Goldbag didn't say anything, just gritted his teeth and continued. That little prick was really starting to try his patience...
"Bellatrix Lestrange, I find myself in a dilemma regarding you. The... person that they brought into Azkaban bears no resemblance to the young woman I used to know. You changed Bella, turned dark and twisted. I don't know exactly what caused it, but it was after your marriage. Knowing your husband and our Family, I fear the worse. And, despite your actions and words of the last two decades, you are still family. Again, my own legal situation prevents me from acting, but my heir has every right now to not only cast you out of the Family, but also dissolve your marriage to LeStrange. He should have read the contract more carefully my dear. I can only hope that somewhere within you that bright young girl remains, and so I have set up a fund for you at St Mungos, to pay for any mental treatments you require after an in-depth examination. I know it's unlikely that anyone would willing enter your mind, but I hope there is."
Across the room Bellatrix was holding her sisters hand tightly. Worry and fear coiled in her gut at Sirius's words, though she understood where he was coming from. Softening all that however was his unexpected generosity; he had no reason to leave her anything but curses. While it was still possible that she would end up out on the streets, with no name, no money or anything, she felt a little better in herself. Almost against her will she looked over to where Harry was sat with Miss Granger beside him. Both were looking at her with hostile expressions, but there was something in Harry's eyes, curiosity perhaps? She only prayed that he would be willing to hear her and Cissa out before casting them aside.
"Narcissa Malfoy, again I am unsure as to what to leave you. I know what being married to that bastard Lucius was doing to you, but you understand my problem. While I agree it was a terrible thing, I have not heard of you doing much to curb his excesses. In fact, you've appeared to have settled for being a Trophy Wife, something that I find very odd, as you were quite independent in your youth. Nevertheless, I leave you the same that I left Bella; my heir has the right and power to dissolve your marriage to him, or to cast you out of the Family. Or both. What he does depends on you now. It's past time to take a stand 'Cissa. You have to make a choice. There is no more time to weigh the sides.
"Which nicely leads me to one Draco Malfoy. By now you are thinking why would you dissolve your parents and aunts' marriages, allow your other aunt back into the family, and all the other things I've mentioned my heir can do. Well, let me explain the fundamental flaw in your thinking: you assume that you are my heir, and will now become the next Lord Black.
"You are wrong."
Draco, red with rage, shot up from his seat. "WHAT!?!" he bellowed. "I AM the next heir by blood! In fact I am the only heir to the Black family!"
Goldbag looked at him over the Will, then began to read again. "Yes, you are the heir by direct bloodlines, but like all Families, an Heir can be passed over in lieu of other. And make no mistake; you are not the only young man with Black blood in your veins.
"What you receive from me however is nothing but my utter contempt. You are a foul, loathsome, evil, petty little thing, a pale copy of your father. You are not welcomed into the House of Black, your line cast out forever!" Goldbag now lowered the Will to stare at the still standing young man. "I suggest you sit down Mister Malfoy, otherwise I will have no choice but to order you escorted from the Bank." There was a note of finality in the goblins tone; one that made sure everyone knew that he was not threatening idly, but stating a fact.
Once Draco, pale once more, had sat down, Goldbag pressed on, using the Will to hide the small smirk that wormed its way onto his face. That had felt good, cutting the little snot down to size!
"Albus Percival Wolfric Brian Dumbledore, I leave you... two Knuts. You're handling of events over the last half a century has gone from bad to worse, going even further in the last five. I have no trust or respect for you anymore. I may have been naïve when I was young, but after twelve years in Azkaban with nothing to do but think and remember, I see things clearly now. I know that, in your mind, you are doing everything you are doing because you have to, but that is not true. When was the last time you turned to someone for advice? When did you last seek help? Is there another way? You cling to your secrets Headmaster, and before long I suspect they will be the death of you. I once came across an interesting piece of muggle thinking, encapsulated in the following: 'Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely'. You've been fighting the darkness for over fifty years now, fighting the monsters in our world. But it's long past time to let others take the lead, step back and follow others. You can't be in control all the time. Let go, and allow others the freedom to live and chose their own fate."
Dumbledore sat back, swallowing nervously. Sirius's words struck him deeply, but he tried to brush them off. However, deep within his mind that tiny voice screamed that he should listen and consider in depth what Sirius was trying to tell him.
"To Ginny Weasley, youngest of the Weasley kids, I chose to leave a small trust fund, in thanks to your actions at my place this last summer. While I disagree with your chosen form of humour, you helped keep things light in a place that is steeped in darkness and despair. Thusly, I leave you five thousand galleons in a trust fund for your future educational needs. No child should have wear third hand - or worse - robes to school, nor use fourth hand books. I also leave some advice: you can't control the future. What I said earlier to your mother also applies to you. Nobody has the right to impose his or her views on others. Yes, Harry is a great young wizard, but the 'Boy-Who-Lived' is a fabrication. Let go of the dream Ginny, it's time to grow up and face reality. Accept whatever he offers, but don't try and force things. You'll just drive him away."
Ginny closed her teary eyes, thinking back to her time with Sirius. It hadn't been much, but the older, dashing man had made an impression. "I will." She half whispered.
"Ronald Weasley... I find myself wondering just what Harry sees in you. You are emotionally immature, greedy and lazy. You have no drive to improve yourself, only fobbing off others, often Harry and Hermione. I can tell that you've only got as far as you have in your education thanks to Hermione; I witnessed you several times badgering her to do your homework for you while you goofed off. You can't continue to do this Ronald. Sooner or later you are going to have to face a situation by yourself, with no one else to lean on. When that happens, you are likely to need to know what those professors have been trying to teach you, but you won't because you didn't do the work. Then you'll be in real trouble. I know this, because I too was inclined more to goof off then study. But early on at Hogwarts I got my wake up call, when I got hit with a jink that had been pulled straight from the required reading I hadn't done. Laughter and games have their place, but you have to learn to stand on your own.
"But, despite all that - and your other, numerous flaws - you were for a time what Harry needed most I suspect: a friend. Thusly, I feel that you should be rewarded for that alone. So I have set up a trust fund just like your sisters, for three thousand galleons. Don't squander it Ron, this money to help your education, to make something of your life. Look at your brothers and father. They all got where they are now through hard work and effort. It's time to knuckle down and get to work yourself."
Harry was watching Ron's reactions throughout. What he saw was... troubling. Ron's eyes were almost glazed over, and at one point his tongue lolled out to hang limply. He didn't even seem to get upset or angry at Sirius's words, something that frankly had Harry very concerned. He leaned towards Hermione. "Something's wrong with Ron."
Hermione's glance back was filled with coldness. "Oh really?" Sarcasm tinged her words; she was still feeling betrayed by the prat.
"I mean there's something else going on here." Harry continued, realising that Hermione was not in a forgiving mood for their former friend. "He didn't react at all to what Sirius wrote. He was just told he was a lazy git, and didn't bat an eye. Even the fact that his little sister is getting more money than him went past unmarked. Have you ever seen Ron act like this?"
Hermione now eyed the redhead, her cold frown fading into one of concern. "Hmmm... you have a point Harry. Ever since the Battle, he's been acting even more... slow." A clearing of a throat made them both look back towards Goldbag.
"To Hermione Jane Granger, my Godson's best and truest friend, I leave the contents of the Black Library." Harry felt Hermione's fingers clamp around his wrist as she gasped. A quick glance showed that her eyes were sparkling as Goldbag continued to speak. "While many of the books contained within are about Dark Magic, I am confident that you can resist temptation and use the knowledge within wisely. To fight the Darkness effectively, one must understand it. I trust you to use this knowledge wisely."
Dumbledore stood up once more. "Sadly, I have to use my position in the Wizengamot to confiscate those books. Such knowledge is banned my dear, and should not be spread about mindlessly."
Hermione was now glaring at the Headmaster, but before she could speak Goldbag interrupted.
"If Headmaster Dumbledore attempts to have the books taken, then he needs to be reminded that this is a decree from a Will, not an open air auction. Does he not trust Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of her age, to know how to use such knowledge? Or is he playing his usual game of denying vital information to those who need that information? In any case, his authority in regards to the Ministry does not apply in this case, so sit down!" Goldbag was now glaring at the Headmaster, having almost yelled the last words.
Dumbledore remained standing however. "This is not a trivial matter. The knowledge contained those books cannot be allowed to be spread. Also many may have been cursed. Surely it is wise to bring them to the Ministry for examination, in case any have been so cursed? It would be most unfortunate if Miss Granger, our star student, were to become twisted into a new Dark Lady by such a curse..."
"The contents of the Black Library have already been examined, and any curses removed, by Gringotts employees." Goldbag stated firmly. "This action was part of Sirius Black's arrangement with Gringotts, and the fee for such has already been settled. I trust there is no doubt that our employee's are sufficiently qualified to deal with such items?"
Dumbledore's expression was as if he'd had a whole lemon shoved into his mouth as he sat down, clearly beaten. After a few more moments of glaring, Goldbag returned to the Will.
"In addition to the books, I also leave a sum of one hundred thousand Galleons for Miss Grangers personal use. I would also give you Harry, but I can't quite swing that." Hermione flushed red as she glanced at Harry who was just as red. Chuckles rose from others in the room at the clearly embarrassed teens. Harry noted however, that at last Ron reacted, looking across at Hermione with pure greed in his eyes. That set alarm bells ringing in his head.
"Finally, to my godson Harry James Potter. You get everything left. Which is actually the lion's share of the value of the Black Family. It's a huge amount of gold, valuable artefacts and holdings in various companies. I also reveal that I have designated you as my heir, the Scion of the Black Family. For those who think I can't, I direct your attention to the Black Family tree. Dorea Black, my great-aunt on my dear mothers side, married Charlus Potter, Harry's grandfather. Thus he has a blood link into the family, and is eligible to become the next Lord Black. Pup, I wish I could use this to emancipate you now, but as with all things, you'll have to wait until you turn sixteen to receive the benefits..." Goldbag stopped, eye twitching, as Dumbledore once again stood up. Harry rolled his eyes; doesn't he ever learn?
"As Harry's magical Guardian, I have the sad duty to report that Harry is not ready to receive such a burden. He needs more time to mature and grow. And, let us be honest here, he is still a child. He should have the chance to enjoy his childhood. Such things as what Sirius is handing him, you must be mature and settled before receiving."
Goldbag laid the will down slowly before looking at him. "Believe what you want Dumbledore, but your words have no meaning here."
"Pardon?" Dumbledore's voice was filled with confusion, and not a small amount of frustration.
"It is quite simple. You, Dumbledore, are not Mister Potter-Black's Magical Guardian."
That statement rocked the old wizard back on his heals. "You are mistaken." He told the Goblin firmly. "It is well documented that Harry is an orphan. He has no other magical relatives. In cases such as his, as Headmaster of Hogwarts, I am his appointed Magical Guardian, per in loco parentis."
"You may be the Headmaster of Hogwarts, but in this case it is you who are mistaken, Dumbledore." Goldbag snapped, the frustration clear on his features. "Another is Mister Potter's guardian, one with a clear, undisputable claim that has been verified by Gringotts."
"Then who is it?" Molly all but screamed.
Movement behind Harry drew everyone's attention; the hooded and cloaked figure was stepping forwards. They had been so quiet and still during the whole Will reading that nearly everyone had forgotten about their presence. Halting beside Harry, an elegant, feminine hand lifted up to the cowl of the hood. The woman gave her head a little shake as the hood fell away, allowing her long, rich, deep red hair to cascade over her shoulders. Two brilliant emerald eyes looked out from a classically beautiful face at the range of shocked and stunned expressions. While a smile was on her lips, in her eyes everyone could see the burning green fire that flared up when they landed on them.
"That would be me." She said firmly.
For several long moments no one spoke. Finally, McGonagall was able to get one word past her lips.
"Lily?"