Chapter 3: The Blood Test
Toji, now in the wizarding world, strode through the wide marble halls of Gringotts, his sharp green eyes surveying the towering pillars and the busy goblins bustling about their work. The wizarding bank had an air of secrecy and power—one Toji respected. These creatures weren't like the foolish wizards he expected to encounter. Goblins were cunning, ruthless, and obsessed with gold. He could work with that.
The goblin leading him, Griphook, glanced back at him every few steps, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. Toji had made an unusual request—a blood test to confirm his heritage. It wasn't common for wizards to ask for such services at Gringotts, but Toji knew that information was power. And right now, he needed to know exactly what kind of power this new body carried.
They stopped at a heavy iron door at the end of the hall. Griphook opened it with a simple wave of his hand, and the door creaked as it revealed a dimly lit, private chamber.
"Inside," Griphook said, gesturing with a sharp-toothed grin. "We will perform the ritual."
Toji stepped in, his senses keenly aware of everything around him—the cool air, the faint scent of iron from the dagger laid on the stone table. Griphook followed him inside, pulling the door shut behind them, sealing off the rest of the world. Toji appreciated the privacy.
"This blood test," Griphook began, walking toward the table, "will confirm your lineage. It will also reveal any magical bonds or ties to your ancestry. Are you prepared, Mr. Potter?"
Toji glanced at the goblin, then at the ceremonial dagger. The blade gleamed under the flickering torchlight, razor-sharp but not imposing. He stepped forward, grabbing the dagger without hesitation. "Let's get this over with."
Griphook's grin widened, showing his sharp teeth. He liked this boy's attitude. No hesitation. No fear.
Toji drew the dagger across his palm, the blade biting into his flesh. Blood welled up from the cut, but he felt no pain. Instead, the moment his blood touched the stone bowl beneath his hand, a warm glow surrounded him. The magic of the ritual surged through his body, and just as quickly as the wound had opened, it healed, leaving no trace behind.
The goblin watched closely, his sharp eyes glowing with a hint of respect as he began reading the ancient scrolls, which glowed as the blood reacted with the magic. A moment later, runes shimmered to life, revealing the results.
"Interesting," Griphook murmured. "Very interesting."
Toji raised an eyebrow. "What do they say?"
Griphook's clawed finger traced the glowing lines of the scroll. "You are, of course, Harry Potter, the last living descendant of the Potter line. However, you also carry the blood of the Black family, through your godfather, Sirius Black. This gives you the right to claim the Black fortune as well."
Toji nodded. That part he had anticipated from the books.
"But there is more," Griphook continued, his voice lowering as he looked up, eyes narrowing. "There is a connection to Slytherin himself… through dark magic. A horcrux."
Toji's expression didn't change, though internally, he pieced together what Griphook was saying. The scar on his forehead—it wasn't just a mark of Voldemort's failed curse. It was a tether to the Dark Lord himself. A piece of his soul.
"Interesting," Toji muttered, thinking quickly. If he carried a piece of Voldemort inside him, that was a problem. But it was also an opportunity. He could use this knowledge to his advantage, but first, he had to get rid of the scar. He had no desire to be anyone's pawn and Voldemort was no exception.
"Before we continue," Toji said, his tone even, "I want a medical checkup. I know the damage this body's gone through. The Dursleys haven't exactly treated me well."
Griphook's sharp eyes flicked up to meet Toji's. "We goblins do not hide anything from those who pay the right price. We respect gold and strength." His grin returned, wider now. "You show respect for our ways. For that, we will see to your health properly."
Toji smirked. He liked these goblins more than any wizard so far.
Griphook clapped his hands, and another goblin entered the room carrying a box of potions and tools. They moved quickly, checking Toji's body for any signs of malnourishment, injury, or lingering curses. The results were clear—the boy had been underfed, mistreated, and was still carrying some traces of Voldemort's influence through the scar.
"You'll need potions to restore your body's nutrients," the healer goblin said, handing him a few vials. "These will fix the damage done by years of neglect. But the scar… that requires something more."
Griphook stepped forward, holding a small vial of dark liquid. "This will sever the connection to the dark magic in your scar and free you from Voldemort's influence. The removal will be painful, but once it's done, you'll be rid of him."
Toji took the vial without hesitation. Pain meant nothing to him. He downed it in one gulp.
The effect was immediate. His scar burned, the searing pain radiating through his head. For a brief moment, he saw flashes of memories that didn't belong to him—dark places, a cold, hissing voice, and the shadow of a figure wearing a hood. Voldemort.
But then, just as quickly as it had begun, the pain vanished. His head felt clearer, lighter. The scar still remained physically, but its magical connection to Voldemort was gone.
Griphook handed him a small, intricately crafted dagger like a more expensive looking version of his inverted spear of heaven, its hilt embedded with gemstones. "For your strength and your respect, I gift you this blade. May it serve you well."
Toji admired the craftsmanship. It was a goblin-forged weapon, sharp and deadly. Perfect for him. He nodded, accepting the gift. "I'll put it to good use."
Finally, Griphook placed a small, polished stone in Toji's hand. "This is a Portkey. It will take you to any of the estates you are now the master of. The Potters, the Blacks… even Slytherin's hidden vaults, should you find them."
Toji's mind raced. This was power. Pure, untapped potential, lying at his feet. And he wasn't about to let anyone else control it.
Before leaving, he made one final request. "I want access to my vaults. But more importantly, I want to know why Dumbledore has my family's belongings. And if he's been using my money."
Griphook's fanged smile returned. "Ah, yes. Dumbledore. We have records indicating he accessed your vaults under the pretense of guardianship. What he's done with the funds remains unclear… but we can investigate."
Toji smirked. The old man had been meddling too much. He'd deal with Dumbledore in time, but for now, there were more pressing matters to attend to. Like consolidating his newfound power.
The Portkey took Toji directly to the Potter Manor, a grand, sprawling estate surrounded by high, enchanted walls and lush gardens. The air here was fresh, crisp, and untouched by the filth of the outside world.
As he stepped inside the grand hall, five small figures appeared before him. House-elves. Their large eyes stared up at him with awe, as though they were in the presence of something divine.
"Master Potter has returned!" one of them squeaked, tears of joy filling her eyes. "Oh, Master has come home!"
Toji blinked, surprised by their reverence. It wasn't worship he was used to, but practicality? Oh, this was very practical.
The elves bowed low, trembling in excitement. One of them, slightly older than the rest, stepped forward. "We are the elves of the Potter family, Master. We are here to serve you in any way you desire."
Toji's smirk returned. House-elves? They could do all kinds of tasks, protect his estate, and fetch information if needed. Extremely useful.
He crossed his arms, surveying the elves. "Good. You'll serve me well. There's a lot of work to do."
The elves looked up at him as though he were their savior, and Toji couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. This new life had given him more than just power. It had given him tools—money, magic, and now servants.
This world was his now.
And nothing was going to stop him from taking full advantage of it.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
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