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49.65% Harry Potter: Ero World / Chapter 72: Potter Accounts! Part-1

Chapter 72: Potter Accounts! Part-1

{Transfiguration Offics, Hogwarts}

{7th Sep 1991}

{Harry Potter's POV}

"Are you ready Mr. Potter?" Prof. McGonagall asked. Harry nodded and looked at the fire with a bit of apprehension. He hadn't traveled by fire before, during his stint of frequenting Diagon Alley he normally entered the magical world by the Leaky Cauldron. Simply put, all of his instincts developed in the muggle world abhorred the thought of jumping into the fire to fast-travel...

"Yes, Professor..." Harry replied, although his expression and tone revealed his inner apprehension.

Minerva spoke in a stern voice, "The floo is a perfectly safe way to travel Mr. Potter... now all you need to do is say the words 'Diagon Alley'. Remember to enunciate them properly before throwing the floo powder into the fire. Also, remember to tuck in your elbows close to your body before you walk into the fire." 

'Right, before you walk into the fire she says...'

"Yes, Professor..." Harry reiterated. He took a handful of floo powder from the bowl that Prof. McGonagall extended toward him and walked up to the fire. "Diagon Alley!" Harry shouted.

He pushed down the embarrassment that welled up in him as the fire turned green, he took a step into the fire and remembered Prof. McGonagall's words. He hurriedly hugged his own hands close to his body as he felt his feet giving way. 

After adjusting to the weightless sensation, he looked at the flashing images as he felt himself tumble through what felt like a long pipe. The sensation was similar to dropping and after a couple of seconds, the tingling feeling at the tip of his toes turned to nausea. His eyes blurred as his glasses flew away and his feet abruptly landed on solid ground. Not expecting the journey to be so swift Harry wasn't able to adjust his momentum in time and had to use his hands to break his fall.

"Fuck-" Harry cursed as he looked around. His eyes were blurry as he had lost his glasses during the fall. He was in an unfamiliar environment and before his flight responses kicked in, the flare of the fire behind him calmed him down. He could vaguely see her green dress and robes but it was only the strong stern voice of the Professor that gave him some comfort.

"Accio Glasses~" Harry heard Prof. McGonagall cast. His reflexes saved him as he shifted his head back a little, he didn't know how the spell worked but he could feel something whiz past his face. 

"Come on let's go," Prof. McGonagall said as she pressed a familiar object into his hands. Harry nodded as he grabbed his glasses and hastily put them on. "Thanks, Pr-" The words were caught in his throat as he caught sight of the black thong that was just barely visible from his angle. 

Prof. McGonagall was not paying attention to him, her eyes were surveying the surroundings so Harry got an eyeful before he swiftly stood up. He adjusted his jeans and turned away from Prof. McGonagall.

"T-thanks Professor," Harry reiterated, blood rushing to his face and cock at the same time. His stutter got Prof. McGonagall to look at him, her eyes dipped down and she gave him a pointed look. Harry almost stumbled, worried that she caught a hint of his boner but she simply stated, "Clean your knees, Mr. Potter, let's go, we don't have much time to waste."

Harry nodded and followed along, he patted his knees and made sure to adjust his hair so they hid his scar. Not that it helped much, his green eyes and face were quite famous throughout the wizarding world now, and after his photos were stamped on the front page of the Daily Prophet almost everyone knew what he looked like. 

He watched as people awkwardly stumbled, some waved, and some bowed. The interaction likely would have continued if not for the fact that Gringotts was quite close to Diagon Alley. The marble steps of the bank emerged as a divide as Harry quickly followed Prof. McGonagall into the bank. 

His eyes darted to the golden words etched on top of the gate, the sharp spears of the two bulky goblins that stood guard by the gate had a menacing aura but that quickly was washed away as they entered the large hall. Once again Harry admired the architecture of the bank, the white marble inlaid with what appeared as pure gold was a luxurious aesthetic. 

'That won't be pure gold right, but then again the goblin's love for materialistic things was unmatched according to the books.' Harry thought. His thoughts wandered briefly as Professor McGonagall asked for a meeting with the Potter Accounts Manager.

He paused as the old goblin looked at him for a moment and then he nodded. A slightly younger goblin who introduced himself as Griphook emerged from the gate that was beside the goblin perch and for a moment Harry couldn't help but think about what Griphook was doing down there. 

The images that thought produced caused his nausea to return as he shook his head. He noticed Prof. McGonagall was looking at him with a peculiar expression before she motioned with her head to follow along.

The halls of Gringotts were quite remarkable even if they were quite monotonous. Still, it displayed the massive amount of wealth that the Goblins have access to.

'According to our history books there have been numerous wars with the goblin, why would wizards even allow them full control of our currency was a bit beyond me. In times of war if the goblins are against us, then won't the situation worsen quite quickly?' Harry pondered as they made their way to a large room. 

A goblin dressed in a high-end suit was waiting for them, his eyes immediately lighting up as he recognized Harry as the goblin spoke in a ruff voice, "At last we meet Mr. Potter, do come inside we have matters of utmost importance to discuss..." The Goblin paused as his eyes traced Prof. McGonagall's figure as he asked, "Are you sure it is a wise decision to have the head of another House attend this meeting?" 

The question once again threw Harry off, he knew that he did not know much about the wizarding customs that involved the lord and Lady of the house. But since he knew nothing, his need to know more and having Prof. McGonagall here was even more justified.

"Yes, I trust Prof. McGonagall to maintain privacy regarding my House matters," Harry replied, he tried to channel his inner Malfoy as he spoke. "I'm sorry but how should I address you..."

"Of course, you can call me Heathmond, I have been the accounts manager of the Potter estate for the past 50 years..."

-------------------------------------

A.N: A little bit of change in POV! How would a slightly more mature Harry react to the storyline of the original novels?

P.S- 39+ Chapters on P.atreon!


Chapter 73: Potter Accounts! Part-2

{Gringotts, Diagon Alley}

{7th Sep 1991}

{3rd Person POV}

"Of course, you can call me Heathmond, I have been the accounts manager of the Potter estate for the past 50 years..." Hentmond responded with a grin. The wrinkles on his face shifted and Harry had to suppress a grimance not wanting to offend the clearly old and experienced goblin.

Was he biased and a little unconvinced about the Goblin being the holder of his business matters? Absolutely. Having grown up in a world and seen rampant racism that existed, with his own supposed family who always stared at him like he was a freak of nature. He was well aware that although the color of your skin doesn't actually matter... it does a little bit. At least to him personality and psychological quirks mattered more, his forays into recognizing these qualities during his extensive reading sessions gave him some insight into whom to avoid.

He didn't have anything against the goblin from being a sapient of a different species, but he did know that when push came to shove, the green little midget would abandon him at a moment's thought.

'But then again, maybe I'm judging everything a little too harshly... innocent until proven otherwise right?' Harry thought, he nodded to the goblin and all three of them walked into the room. There was a large table with three sofa chairs lined up for them to sit. He took a seat as the goblin almost vibrated in his seat.

"Although I was concerned that our first meeting would be delayed for a lot longer, I 'm pleased to see that you have taken measures to rectify your mistake..." Heathmond spoke. He grinned again, his sharp triangular teeth reminiscent of a Piranha.

"First, let's confirm your heirship claim before we dive into any serious matters." Heathmond continued not giving Harry time to interject. For someone who looked old, the goblin manager moved with surprising nimbleness as he pulled out a knife and a plain marble bowl from his desk. Even though he couldn't see anything special about those two objects, pulling out a knife did raise several alarms, and what Heathmond spoke about didn't exactly help.

"No need to be worried Mr. Potter, this is a standard ritual knife, I just need a couple of drops of your blood to confirm your identity." Heathmond grinned, the sharp teeth had a malevolent glint.

Harry swiftly looked at Prof. McGonagall for guidance and after giving him a slight nod, she turned to Heathmond and spoke, "Just one drop should suffice. The House of Potter does not have any blood-related constraints tied to the heirship."

Heathmond raised his head in defeat as he acknowledged Prof. McGonagall's words, though he couldn't help but have the last words as he extended his hand, indicating Harry to extend his right hand, "Of course, though Lily Potter never went through a Lineage test. The test could have provided some valuable insight into Evan's family tree... Now your hand please Mr. Potter..."

Harry hesitated a moment, while being poked by a knife's edge wasn't exactly a thrilling experience that he was eager to see through, he also thought about Heathmond's words. To know more about his family was his goal in coming here, but the unease that welled up in him when he looked at Heathmond's grin stopped him from saying anything... for now.

'I could surely do the same process later...' Harry thought, determined to come back to this again as he extended his hand. The Goblin's fingers were rough as he grabbed onto his wrist. At least in terms of strength, the old manager was a little weak so Harry didn't feel pressured.

"Just your index finger should suffice..." Heathmond stated and as Harry unfurled his finger, he swiftly used the knife to poke a hole into it. The pain was sharp but a little muted as Harry watched the drop of blood fall into the bowl as his newest wound tingled. He watched in fascination as the drop of blood seemingly defied gravity as it circled around the bowl of its own volition. 

After doing a couple of laps around the bowl, the drop of blood finally settled at the bottom. Harry was kind of underwhelmed but his attention quickly shifted as Heathmond picked up the bowl and dropped his blood which had just taken a lame roller coaster ride onto a piece of parchment.

While the process till now had been lackluster, the way his blood started squiggling on the parchment before it was slowly absorbed without leaving any marks did catch his attention. Blood-red words emerged from the parchment. It wasn't much but the short words made it a little difficult for him to swallow as his gaze stuck to the two names that appeared on the piece of parchment.

...

'''Birth Name: Harry James Potter

Father: James Fleamont Potter {Deceased}

Mother: Lily Potter(née Evans) {Deceased}'''

...

'Deceased...' Harry thought. He didn't cry as he already knew the outcome, he wasn't a kid anymore but seeing the names of his Mother and Father officially linked to him was an emotional moment. He had resented his parents growing up, having been fed a fake story by the Dursleys, he had cursed them on numerous occasions for leaving him with those awful people.

That's why the story about the Boy Who Lived was appealing to him, not the kid's version but he yearned to know what happened that fateful night. He had heard nice things about his Mom and Dad so a small part of him was content, at least in his new memories, memories after his induction to the wizarding world he would remain content that his parents had been good people.

He noticed the Goblin picking up the parchment and before Heathmond could continue to carry on his little charade and move things along, Harry asked, "Can I have that piece of paper?"

His question clearly caught the goblin off-guard, but the malicious glint returned to his eyes as he hesitated. Harry could see that he was putting up an act, the goblin hesitated several times before he finally spoke, "While the parchment isn't at all valuable it is uniqu-"

His speech was cut off by Prof. McGonagall as she stated, "5 Galleons, not a knut more than that." 

Her tone contained a sense of finality as the glint subsided from the goblin's eye. He pondered over the battle before he relented and slid the parchment toward Harry, "A gift then, Heir Potter. To making acquaintances..." 

Heathmond's change in tone was noticed by Harry and although this gift could prove more costly than 5 galleons he accepted the parchment. At the same time, he realized why he was feeling uneasy around the old account manager.

'Greed... In the muggle world, greed could simultaneously be replaced by malicious intent. I kind of got used to interpreting everyone that way.'

...

----------------------------

AN - A small interlude into Harry's slightly more mature outlook. We'll move on to Rigel's POV in the next chapter.

P.S- 40+ Advanced chapters on P.atreon!


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