Chapter Text
Curveball
He hated the water. Always had done. Probably because he didn’t have good experiences with it. Not a single one. The gillyweed had left a foul aftertaste in his mouth and he really didn’t want to keep swimming. He couldn’t think of anything that could have been taken that he cared about. Not recently at least.
Ron had tried getting back into his good books but Harry had had enough of the bullshit his “friend” came up with. It was one time too many that the ginger’s jealousy had become too much. Not even mentioning Hermione. Her “attempt” at remaining neutral was pathetic. She clearly sided with Ron in believing he had managed to enter himself. They only wanted to remain friendly with him to keep his fame and the positive attention that it brought.
He swam through the last of the kelp and twisted a moment too slow. A brightly coloured bubble shot through the water, aiming for him like a missile, and appeared to pass through him. Only, instead of feeling nothing, Harry’s eyes began to close of their own volition. His muscles tightened and relaxed, causing him to drop down to the lakebed. He tried to fight whatever was happening only to lose and felt himself lose consciousness.
Images of strange creatures flashed before his eyes. Of a man with fiery wings and dark skin. Of a pale blond with silver eyes and horns that curved over his head from forehead to nape. Of flashing grey lights that bounced between white and black. The message was clear. Balance needed to be restored.
Harry opened his eyes and blinked up at the infirmary ceiling. Of course he’d been collected from the lake. They weren’t going to let the bloody boy who lived die. He sat up slowly, only for his stomach to violently disagree with the motion. He scarcely managed to twist to vomit over the floor rather than himself before flopping onto his side to try and avoid the nausea rearing up again.
“I don’t know what else you want from me, Albus. I have told you all that my vow will allow and, should the muggles have any regard for their ward, they are more than welcome to come through you,” Madame Pomfrey said, snapping slightly.
“I need to know if the boy is well enough to continue competing, Poppy,” Dumbledore replied.
“That is not something I can verify at this time. Mr Potter has been unconscious for three days and, upon my last inspection, didn’t appear any closer to waking. Now, it is time you leave me and my patients in peace so that healing may occur in private.”
Harry stared down at the pile of vomit by his bed, knowing it needed vanishing but unwilling to attempt vanishing it. He couldn’t help but notice the spattering of blood within what was primarily bile and potions. A curtain shifted and the vomit was banished moments after.
“Harry, that doesn’t look good,” Pomfrey said quietly. “Though I am glad you woke up to do so this time. Vanishing vomit from patients without stripping a layer of skin is always a tricky task. How do you feel?”
He moaned in response and she nodded sympathetically, moving into his line of sight. She waved her wand and he felt subtle vibrations over his skin.
“Well, it appears your core is unharmed, you physically are uninjured and I can find no traces of a medical ailment that explains your bout of unconsciousness. I also cannot offer you a potion for your nausea given that it evidently provided no relief the last time. Can you tell me what happened prior to losing consciousness?”
Harry shrugged with one shoulder. “I was swimming for the task and I just escaped the kelp. Some bubble targeted me and went straight through. Everything shut down after that.”
Pomfrey frowned. “Did you see where this… bubble, originated?”
Harry shook his head, closing his eyes at the wave of nausea the movement caused. Pomfrey made a sound of irritation before telling him to remain in bed. He was on observation until she deemed him fit enough.
For the time being, he wasn’t willing to argue.
Over the next few days, many people attempted to visit him and each time they were all denied. Pomfrey insisted that given the lack of knowledge of his condition, she wasn’t going to risk them potentially becoming infected. Unsurprisingly, the only visitor Harry received was Hedwig and that was simply because she showed up whenever Pomfrey was otherwise occupied. She brought him letters from “friends” and homework from McGonagall.
So used to her visits, it took him a while to realize that in addition to the parchment attached to her leg, she held a very crisp envelope in her beak.
He took hold of it warily, knowing that she wasn’t impressed by having to wait, before blinking rapidly at the seal. Gringotts. He had never received a letter from the goblins before. What could possibly have changed? He glanced around, checking that he was alone, he popped the wax seal.
Dear Mr Hadrian Potter
Due to events we are unwilling to share through a letter, your vaults have been sealed.
In order to regain access, your presence is required within Gringotts Magical Bank at the earliest convenience.
Due to your age and current residence within Hogwarts, you will find a port key enclosed within. Simply state the words below and you will be transported to the lobby.
Goliath Runs
Sincerely,
Gatwog, Goblin chief of Gringotts,
Diagon Alley division
Harry reread the parchment multiple times. His vaults had been sealed? What caused them to do that? Also, vault-s! More than one? When did the other one appear? He contemplated his options before ultimately deciding that it was better to sneak off now rather than once he had been released. His nausea had become manageable though he still struggled to eat anything.
He hastily scrawled a note to Pomfrey in case he wasn’t back by the time she made her rounds on him again, and left it on his pillow. He threw his school robes on over his pyjamas, having no choice given the lack of an alternative, and gave Hedwig a grateful smile.
He lifted the plain silver bangle from the envelope, slid it onto his wrist, before uttering the activation code.
He staggered but remained upright. He swallowed rapidly, trying to keep his nausea under control. Evidently, port keys were easier to use when worn as opposed to holding onto. Taking in his location he glanced around. He was in a secluded little corner of the main hall of Gringotts bank. He guessed it was to allow for portkey users to not flatten anyone. Taking a deep breath, Harry made his way forward, joining on of the relatively short lines.
When his turn came, he nodded to the goblin.
“State your business,” the teller said briskly.
“I received a letter along with a portkey informing me that my vaults had been sealed. I’ve come to sort them out,” Harry replied.
The goblin’s head snapped up before they pressed a button and a light flared on the desk. Harry swallowed his anxiety. He hadn’t done anything wrong.
Two goblins carrying shields and axes approached and insisted Harry follow them. Knowing that without starting a feud with the creatures, he had no alternative but to do as they said.
He was marched deeply into the stone building, going downhill for a while. In fact they went so far into the stone that goosebumps formed on his arms and he regretted not having proper clothes on.
After walking what seemed like miles into the stone, the guards stood on either side of the door and pushed it open. Receiving no further instruction, Harry entered cautiously.
A goblin was sat behind an ornate metal desk, made of what appeared to be gold and silver.
“Sit. We have many things to discuss,” the goblin snapped without looking up from the parchment before it.
Harry sat opposite and tried not to feel like he’d been sent to the headteacher’s office. That had happened so often in primary school and had never ended well.
Eventually the goblin scrawled something on the parchment before putting it down and eyeing Harry critically.
“You are here because your vaults sealed themselves. They only do this for one of two reasons. The first, an imposter is caught entering them without express written permission and escorted by a high ranking goblin. The second, is that a minor becomes an adult, thereby ensuring that no money or valuables can be pilfered by the former guardian.”
Harry blinked at the influx of information before shaking his head. “I’m only fourteen so it must be the former.”
The goblin raised an eyebrow before thrusting a parchment piece towards him. At first glance, Harry had no idea what he was looking at, but as he read the legalese carefully, he realized it was a contract. A written contract deeming him an adult in the eyes of magic due to the tournament. He had become an adult months ago, at least magically, and so he’d become an emancipated minor. The forms had been filed with the ministry and no body had stepped forward to argue it. Harry felt sick. Why did nobody ever feel the need to inform him of these things?
”I take it this comes as a surprise to you. Nonetheless, as an esteemed member of Gringotts holdings, it is a requirement that you go through a cleansing and claiming of your lords ring.”
Swallowing the information, Harry nodded and the goblin, seemingly glued to its seat, gestured towards a partially hidden door on the wall to the right. He stood and walked through it, feeling numb.
The results that followed, sent him reeling and he was portkeyed back to the infirmary unconscious once again.