Chapter Text
“Harry Potter!”
Dumbledore's shout of his name wasn't enough to get the boy moving.
'This wasn't supposed to be happening.'
Those words were the only ones playing on repeat in his head. A nervous look towards Hermione was the only thing that finally managed to get him to stand as he looked around the Great Hall.
Besides Hermione, who he could see was trying her best not to burst into tears on his behalf, most of Gryffindor were either looking at him in anger or disbelief.
He spared one glance towards the Headmaster who met his eyes directly, the ever present twinkling every time he looked at the older man, sent a pit of dread in his stomach, one that was only enhanced when for the briefest of moments he could have sworn the old man smirked towards him before he was in the room with the other champions.
“What is it? Do they need us back out?”
The older teenager from France was the first to notice him, apparently, but her question brought him to the attention of both Cedric and Krum, both of whom looked at him with confusion.
“I-I don't know what's going on,” he whispered out, but just barely. It felt as if his chest was caving in, and it was becoming more and more difficult to breathe.
“Harry! Harry, did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?”
He had no idea when Dumbledore and the other teachers entered the room, but the proximity to the old man was only making his magic rise to the surface with his panic.
“No! No, I wouldn't- I didn't!”
“But of course he is lying!” the large headmistress interrupted quickly.
“If I may, headmaster, while Potter normally is the first I accuse of wreaking havoc and stirring up trouble, the Goblins enchanted the Goblet alongside yourself and Crouch. No meagre fourth-year student would be able to hoodwink such an ancient artefact, especially after the added security.”
“Did you get one of the older students to add your name, Harry?”
Harry was perturbed by the drastic change in attitude that Dumbledore had just taken. He stared at him urgently when he first entered the room, but he had been yelling. Now he was calm as could be, questioning him about getting an older student to add him to a death tournament.
“Sir, the only older students I'm close with are the twins, and I'm sure Madame Pomphrey informed you of their attempt to add their own names to the Goblet. I didn't do this!”
At his last shout, a nearby figurine in the abandoned classroom exploded with his simmering rage.
“Did you all not see that display of power!” growled out Kakaroff, “Obviously, if anyone is capable of hoodwinking the Goblet of Fire, it would be Potter! This is unfair, Dumbledore! I demand another champion for our school!”
“Potter isn't playing for Hogwarts,” intoned the new DADA professor as he lifted the parchment with Harry's name on it in front of everyone present. Another wave and letters appeared under his name.
“Mahoutokoro Wizarding School,” Harry could barely hear Cedric as he mumbled the name of the school, nor when the older Hufflepuff mumbled out an apology, “Sorry, my girlfriend's cousin attends there. Recognised the name.”
“Be that as it may, Potter is just a boy!” intoned McGonagall roughly, “He has no business participating in this tournament.”
“Unfortunately,” began Crouch, “The Goblet of Fire is an undisputed magical contract; Potter will have to compete or risk losing his magic. There are only two ways to get out of this death or... well, it doesn't really matter. Potter doesn't count for the second clause.”
Harry's eyes narrowed in suspicion at Crouch's words, and he trailed off as Dumbledore sent a fierce glare in his direction. However, before he could question the man further, Dumbledore began speaking in hushed tones with the other teachers.
“Do you always have someone threaten your life, young one, or is this fairly new?” The Bulgarian-accented seeker spoke to him quietly, though his eyes never left the teachers, as if he were listening to their muted conversation to figure out what they planned to do about this. About him.
“At least twice a year, if I'm being honest,” he replied dryly, which caused Krum to huff quietly next to him.
“It is rare but not impossible. Request to see your account manager at Gringotts. Request a full medical check, you might be able to get out of the competition yet.”
“Why are you helping me?” he whispered back quietly, and noticed Krum finally turned to look at him.
“Is hardly competition fighting against a child. Not fair to other champions or yourself. I can offer advice if needed. I like to think I'm an honourable sportsman.”
“Thanks,” Harry muttered, not sure what else to say about Krum's words.
“I believe it's time to return to your dorms for the time being. Our four champions will receive details on the first task within the next few days.”
Dumbledore was definitely too happy about these last few events, despite the worried look McGonagall shot at him, followed by an annoyed glance at the Headmaster.
He felt himself bite his tongue to prevent lashing out at the man and his clear dismissal of the events, Krum's words from earlier ringing in his ears.
Hogsmeade visits were still allowed, despite Quidditch being cancelled for this year; he'd find a way to make it to Gringotts and obtain a medical exemption. Surely the years of neglect and abuse at the hands of his Muggle relatives would come into use finally.
When he returned to the common room, it appeared that everyone had waited up for him. Though he should have been more wary of the situation, he could not be bothered to care. Ron's harsh words only added fuel to his currently unstable magic.
“Think you could've told your best mate, you were adding your name to the Fire.”
“Ronald! I told you Harry didn't-”
“Oh, come off it, Hermione! How else did his name get added to the Goblet, then, huh?”
“Obviously someone is trying to hurt-” Hermione stopped speaking, her face red and swollen from crying, and Harry realised belatedly that this must have been what everyone was doing while he was in the room with the other champions.
“Leave it, Hermione. He's already drawn up his own conclusions about what exactly happened. Not like I'd ever have anyone try to kill me before. Oh wait,” Harry's sarcastic tone was finished with a look of exaggerated shock directed towards Ron. He felt a glimmer of glee at seeing the other boy's face turn as red as his hair in either embarrassment or fury. Harry couldn't really be sure, but getting a reaction out of him was making him feel a bit better.
He had bigger issues to deal with, obviously, than Ron and his shite.
“I don't know who added my name to the Goblet, but it wasn't me,” he began slowly and loudly so the whole common room could hear him, “I won't be saying it again.”
Hermione looked as if she wanted to talk to him, but he passed her by quickly. He'd talk to her without an audience later, thank her for defending him to Ron right now the only thing he wanted to be was alone though and he quickly jotted down a note before stuffing it in his pocket and slipping the cloak over himself stopping briefly near Hermione to slip the note he just wrote down in her pocket before waiting by the entrance to the common room.
“Always have to take his side, don't you?” growled out Ron towards Hermione.
“When you're wrong, you're wrong, Ronald! Why on earth would Harry possibly want eternal glory when he's already known for killing You-Know-Who as a baby? Logically, it doesn't make any sense.”
“If you'd rather be with him, then go on upstairs to be with him, don't flaunt your stupid one-sided crush in front of me! You'll be sorry for choosing sides in the end, don't come crying to me when you're heartbroken.”
“You are the biggest idiot, Ronald Weasley!”
Harry had to jump out of the way of Hermione as she opened the common room entrance to leave, hurrying behind her before she slammed it shut in her anger.
“Harry James Potter, what do you think you're doing?” she whispered angrily, “Do you think just because you have that cloak on I wouldn't feel you next to me in the common room?”
“Sorry, sorry. Thanks for all of that by the way,” he mumbled sheepishly, “So was there any truth in that?”
“The fact that someone is trying to hurt or kill you once again, or the fact that Ron is an idiot who thinks I have a crush on you?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at the now-floating head of her best friend.
“The second part,” he answered out a bit embarrassed.
“If anything, you're the annoying little brother I have to keep from getting himself killed or worse expelled,” she spoke back, finally sagging down in relief as she made a joke referencing their first year, “Can't say I have a crush on you, you're a bit too young for my tastes. Besides, if the way you looked at Cedric Diggory the same way Ginny and I did during summer before the Cup, I'm not to your taste either.”
“Noted. Care for a walk outside?” he asked instead, brushing off her last comment concerning Cedric and offering up the cloak in opening.
“Well, I shan't be returning to the common room with the mess of things Ron has made it.”
The two huddled together under the invisibility cloak, attempting to avoid Filch and Mrs. Norris and any professors, though it appeared to be unneeded as there was no one about the halls of Hogwarts.
Apparently, his entry into the tournament was a lot for even the adults to handle, let alone himself.
The two stopped when they reached the edge of the Black Lake, the Durmstrang ship rocking gently against the wind.
“Krum gave me a bit of advice, said I should try to visit Gringotts and request a medical check. Said I might be able to get out of the competition if I meet the requirements.”
“We still have Hogsmeade trips,” she began quietly in thought, causing a smile to light up Harry's face, “It wouldn't be completely impossible to leave Hogsmeade for a few hours to visit Gringotts. I can cover for you, of course, though with the things Ron said earlier, most of Gryffindor might begin to avoid you and, by extension, me.”
“If I can get out of this tournament, then they won't have any reason to avoid either of us.”
“Madam Rosmerta has access to the Floo network, might be able to forge a letter to allow you entry for preparations for the competition, of course.”
“You're really the best, do you realise?” he asked, smiling softly at the witch.
“I'm aware,” she replied dryly, “Now about that letter to Rosmerta.”
…
Three days later, Harry and Hermione were found in Hogsmeade, and much like Hermione predicted, most of Gryffindor house had taken Ron's side, thinking Harry had entered his name into the cup. It was annoying, but nothing he didn't expect after hearing the shit the red-head said the night his name was pulled out.
He had made a point to dress in formal robes, wanting to leave the best impression on the goblins as possible, should they be able to get him out of this mess. The letter Hermione had forged was gripped tightly in his hand, along with his wand.
The Three Broomsticks had never looked more daunting than it currently did.
It was still fairly early even on a Saturday, which meant, besides a few older students, the small town was almost bare, most of the Hogwarts students choosing to sleep in.
He couldn't stop the feeling of dread, even knowing this was his best chance of getting out of the tournament; it was almost as if something in him was screaming at him that he should return to the safety of the castle, confess all his potential sins and beg Dumbledore for forgiveness.
He quickly shut those feelings down and stepped into the tavern.
“Bit early for the younger kids, dearie?” asked Madam Rosmerta, smiling softly at Harry, who returned her smile a bit nervously.
“I was told to give you this,” he said, sticking his arm out awkwardly, waiting for the witch to take the parchment from him.
Madam Rosmerta looked at him questioningly before opening the letter and reading through its contents fairly quickly, which he was grateful for; he felt that much longer and he would blurt out everything to the woman.
“Oh, you poor dear. Of course, you can use the Floo. Honestly, sticking your name in the Fire was a poor joke indeed. Bah, come along now before more students start piling in,” she spoke softly, gently patting his shoulder and motioning him to follow her towards the back of the pub.
“Now, if you're heading towards Gringotts, just grab a pinch of powder and call out 'The Obsidian Mineshaft'. It'll take you straight inside, Professor McGonagall mentioned in her letter you've never travelled there by Floo before.”
“Thanks, Madam Rosmerta, this means a lot.”
“No problem at all, dear, the goblins will have you sorted and prepared with dragonhide from your vaults in no time.”
He wasn't sure what Hermione wrote in that letter, but he was grateful to have the witch as a friend and ally. He would hate to have her as an enemy, given her giant brain.
“The Obsidian Mineshaft,” he made sure to speak clearly this time, lest he find himself somewhere worse than Knockturn Alley like he did back in his second year.
Green completely clouded his vision for a few moments before he could see again, and he stepped out, being greeted by two goblin guards with scowls on their faces as they viewed him.
“My name is Harry Potter. I'd like to see my account manager,” he spoke loudly, just as Hermione instructed him. It was terribly rude to arrive without an appointment, so he had to be as serious as possible to ensure he met with his manager.
“We know who you are, boy.” one growled out, “Amarx has been dying to see you since you entered the wizarding world. Sent countless letters to you with no response.”
“Sorry, I never received anything from Gringotts,” he enunciated quickly, “I've never met any Amarx, just Griphook when I first entered this world at eleven.”
His words caused both goblins to scowl at him darkly, and he worried for a moment if he said the wrong thing as the two spoke quickly in Gobbledegook.
“Wait here,” one spoke to him before leaving the other with the teenager. Harry wasn't sure what was more terrifying: the gleaming teeth, the goblin's smile at him, or the dagger he brandished and began playing with while waiting for the other to return.
“Mr. Potter, you are a difficult wizard to get hold of. Follow me, please. There is much to discuss.”
Most goblins, Harry decided, looked similar to each other, all of them looking equally as frightening to each other.
“Goblin Amarx,” began Harry once they were in what was no doubt the goblin's office, “before we begin, I'd like to formally apologise for whatever happened to the letters you sent me. I never received anything with the Gringotts seal and would have never ignored anything the goblins deem important enough for me to know.”
“Thank you, Lord Potter, the apology is noted. Whatever the reason was that brought you here today, I am grateful for it. Your information, though unintentional,l was very enlightening. The guards you met earlier are handling Griphook as we speak.”
“Sorry, what? I only came because an acquaintance said to request a medical evaluation from the goblins in hopes I could be disqualified from participating in the Goblet of Fire.”
“You are Lord Potter, the last of your family. Your magical guardian should have denied your entry immediately on the off chance it could end a prominent wizarding family,” informed Amarx; Harry wasn't one-hundred per cent sure, but the goblin's face almost seemed disturbed at the fact Harry was called a champion of the Goblet.
The magical creature quickly rose from his seat and, faster than Harry could really see, cut his palm before bleeding into an open fire and returning to his desk. No fewer than ten seconds later, another goblin entered the office, a grim look upon his face.
“Lord Potter, this is my mate, Fierk. He is a certified healer of the Goblin nation. He'll be performing a medical examination at your request. The cost is an even two hundred Galleons. I also recommend that while you are here, you undergo an inheritance test. It will show us exactly who has acted as your magical guardian in place of your parents. It is a charge of another fifty Galleons.”
“You can take it out of the vault my parents left for me, I should have that much in there at least,” agreed Harry quickly.
Amarx blinked owlishly at the young teen before sighing deeply, “I can take the money out of your trust vault, Lord Potter. However, I must inform you that the vault was intended for your schooling and day-to-day use until you come of age. You would also have access to the main Potter vault upon your seventeenth birthday. If the results of your medical and inheritance examinations are as I think, you could have access to it today.”
“Pardon?” asked Harry as if he was out of breath.
“If you were accepted as a champion to participate in the Goblet of Fire tournament and your magical guardian did not reject your participation as they should have, then you would be magically emancipated. Though that is merely speculation on my behalf. Three drops of blood on the parchment before you,” instructed Amarx, handing over a similar dagger to Harry as the one he saw the guard with earlier.
“Lord Potter, if you would follow me while we await the results of your inheritance. I shall begin your medical exam as soon as we enter my office.”
Harry nodded mutely, following Fierk quietly after one last look at the shimmering paper upon Amarx's desk. Pointedly ignoring the feeling of dread that came over him once again.
“I shall place you under a temporary magical stasis while I perform your examination. I have been told by other wizards that while the examination is painless, if a cleansing is needed, it can be highly uncomfortable, and if compulsions or potions are involved, you could attack me against your better judgment. It is mostly for your safety, but also mine.”
Harry nodded and lay down on the table. Fierk motioned to steeling his nerves and forcing himself to get through this. Luckily, he did not have long to wait as he was soon met with darkness with a wave of Fierk's long fingers.
When he awoke again, some time later, he no longer felt that feeling of trepidation in the pit of his stomach. In fact, he found himself quite famished, but overall, honestly, the best he had felt in as long as he could remember.
“Lord Potter, welcome back to the world of consciousness. My mate is waiting for you in his office.” Fierk's voice drifted over to him, and Harry smiled warmly at the goblin at his words.
“Thank you, Fierk. I feel steady. If that even makes sense.”
“It does, Lord Potter. I believe the reason why will be made clear as soon as you speak to Amarx.”
The walk through the goblin fire was a bit less disorienting than passing through the regular Floo network, he realised to himself.
“Lord Potter, I believe you will wish to see your results before we begin our conversation.” Amarx spoke first upon his return to the office, “I trust once you see the results, you'll understand why your cleansing took almost three hours.”
'Had I been out for that long?' he wondered to himself but steadily grabbed the two pieces of parchment Amarx offered him and began reading.
Name: Hadrian James Potter
Mother: Lady Lily Louise Potter, nee Evans (d. 31 October 1981)
Father: Lord James Ralston Potter (d. 31 October 1981)
Godfather: Heir Apparent Sirius Orion Black
Godmother: Dorcas Meadowes (unknown status- December 1980)
Magical Guardians: Heir Apparent Sirius Orion Black (incapacitated)
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore (illegal)
Houses: Lord of the Noble House of Potter
Heir to the paternal Peverall line (unclaimed)
Vaults: 412 (Main Potter Vault)
687 (Potter Trust Vault)
215 (Main Peverall Vault unclaimed)
Harry took a deep breath, reading over the first page what he felt like one hundred times. He glanced at Amarx every once and a while as if to decipher whether what he was reading was true or not. He steeled himself, a familiar feeling of apprehension settled within him as he hesitated to read the second page, though this feeling was more natural than the previous bouts of anxiety he felt before arriving.
Lord Hadrian James Potter: Medical Results Report
Subjective Findings:
Improperly healed fractures throughout the body-
Clavicle Fractures (displaced)
Humerus Fractures (tranverse and spiral)
Elbow Radial Head Fracture
Pilon Fracture/Tibial Plafond Fracture (type 2)
Colles Fracture (displaced)
Salter-Harris Fracture- thigh bones, upper arms, palm of hands (all type 4)
Tibia Fracture
Talus Fracture (displaced)
Bone Density Results:
T- -2.4
The patient shows severe signs of past malnutrition and stunted growth. Several past fractures, most of which have not healed properly. Bone density is low, borderline osteoporosis. Eyesight is beyond repair due to the wrong prescription since childhood.
It is recommended that the patient undergo extensive treatment to improve bone strength and address malnutrition. A new prescription is needed for eyesight.
Ailments and Treatment Received: 3 November 1994
Loyalty Compulsion- Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore (Cleansed)
Loyalty Compulsion- Molly Beatrice Weasley nee Prewett (Cleansed)
Loyalty Compulsion- Ronald Billius Weasley (Cleansed)
Aversion Compulsion- Slytherin House (Cleansed)
Aversion Compulsion- Dark Families (Cleansed)
Aversion Compulsion- Sloth variety (Cleansed used in tandem with Dimming potion)
Aversion Compulsion- Sexual variety (Cleansed)
Dimming Potion (Cleansed used in tandem with Aversion Compulsion-Sloth variety)
Befuddlement Draught (Cleansed)
Forgetfulness Potion (Cleansed)
Gregory's Unctuous Unction (administered by Ronald Billius Weasley) (Cleansed)
Emportement Potion (type of love potion keyed towards Ginerva Molly Weasley, administered by Molly Beatrice Weasley nee Prewett) (Cleansed)
No further action is needed unless placed under the continued use of compulsions and potions.
Natural Affinities:
Natural Occlumens (blocked 97% by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore)
Natural Bearer (blocked 100% by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore)
Parseltongue (blocked 45% by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore)
Natural Restoration Magic (blocked 60% by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore)
“What the actual fuck?” asked Harry, sitting down heavily in the seat across from Amarx after placing the parchment back onto the goblin's desk.
“Astute reaction given the circumstances, Lord Potter. Accompany me to your main vault, and we shall discuss this in further detail.”
Harry stood on still shaky legs but diligently followed behind Amarx into a nearby cart, which took off almost immediately as soon as he was on.
“Vault 412, one drop of blood should suffice, I think.” The goblin spoke, not leaving the cart just yet, and Harry found himself stepping out in front of the entrance to the main Potter Vault. It wasn't anything spectacular; it was similar in appearance to his trust vault, only this vault held an image of a roaring lion. He found himself drawn to the faded picture of the beast, and before he realised he had touched the mouth of the animal, and as if it were a real creature, the tooth on the etching nicked his finger, and soaked in the droplet of blood he offered.
With a loud rusty creak, the lion parted in half down the middle before revealing the inside of the vault to both Harry and Amarx, who had finally left the cart to stand slightly behind the young Lord.
“This way to the Potter family signet ring,” nudged the goblin, shooing him towards the centre of the cavern, which held almost all the treasure his ancestors had accumulated in their lives.
The ring itself wasn't particularly impressive, being basic in design, though Harry could appreciate its simplicity. The gold band was thicker than most and had a carved lion standing on its hind legs as if in battle with an unforeseen enemy. There were no unnecessary jewels or stones decorating it.
Harry picked the jewellery up and placed it on his ring finger on his right hand, feeling the gold heat up in response to his magic as it resized to fit him.
“I think while we are here, now that you've been recognised by the ring to be Lord of House Potter, your parents' wills will need to be fetched and their solicitor summoned. We are close to the Peverall family vault as well, if you'd like to fetch the Lordship ring for that House as well, Lord Potter.”
“Perhaps another time,” answered Harry in thought before an idea struck him. “The Malfoy heir has said that his heirship ring prevents small spells and potions from altering his mind. Do the Potter or Peverall rings offer the same insurance?”
“Indeed. Both Lordship rings have protection enchantments woven into them to prevent harm from the Head of House. The Potter ring should suffice to protect you against any repeated attempts of the same potions or spells Fierk cleansed from your body earlier.”
“Then next time, perhaps during break, I shall return to see the Peverall vault. Instead, would it be possible to summon my parents' solicitor? I'd rather hear everything from a legal standpoint on what my next actions should be.”
“Of course, Lord Potter. We can summon her expeditiously. If she is not currently working on an emergency case, she should be here momentarily. She tends to take cases involving Lords as top priority.”
“I see,” Harry said quietly, wondering just who exactly had hired their lawyer and if, as their son, he would be deemed important enough to discuss everything happening as soon as possible.
He found himself shaking off those morose thoughts quickly and entered the cart to take him back to Amarx's office. The goblin broke off from Harry's side to momentarily whisper something to one of the guards in Gobbledegook and entered the room a few seconds after he himself did.
“I informed Ird to summon your solicitor, and he informed me Griphook has been apprehended and is being questioned by the Goblin King. We'll have answers concerning your trust vault soon. It is a slight against you and me for him to have shown you the way when you first entered the magical world. He is a lower-standing goblin and is merely in charge of lower-class vaults. He should not have been even remotely close to you when you were eleven, and if he was, it should have only been to escort you to me, your actual account manager.”
Before Harry could fully begin to process Amarx's words, the bright green flames announced the arrival of an older witch. She was pretty with greying hair dusting the curly black strands here and there upon her head, and deep blue eyes. Her robes were in pristine condition and just as fancy as he recalled Narcissa Malfoy wearing the one time he saw her escorting Draco along Diagon Alley.
“Lord Potter, it is a pleasure to finally meet you. You are not an easy child to reach,” her Irish lilt was almost as thick as Oliver's, he noticed.
“So I've been told by Amarx. I assure you, I received no letter from you since entering the magical world at eleven years old.”
“I figured as much, what with Dumbledore blocking access to you since you entered Hogwarts, claiming to be your magical guardian. I wrote the Potters' will for them, and he was nowhere even mentioned in the testaments your father and mother left behind. Without you requesting the wills to be read, however, there was little I could do. Jeanne Montague, I believe you attend Hogwarts with my son, Graham.”
“I know of him from Quidditch,” Harry replied dryly. He didn't think mentioning the fact that Montague had attempted to crush his hand from that one Quidditch match would end nicely in the current circumstances.
“I apologise on his behalf for any untoward behaviour you received, then. He's a competitive brute who doesn't realise his own strength half the time,” she said with a smile, “I might be his mother, but I can recognise my child's faults. Don't look so shocked, Lord Potter. I was brought up to speed on everything so far from Ird. I grabbed every important document since your twice-great-grandparents' time.”
Harry nodded eagerly, accepting the stacks of parchment from the woman with a happy smile, and began reading.
Last Will and Testament
of
Lily Louise Potter, nee Evans
Lady of the Noble House of Potter
18 Godric's Hollow, England
-
Declaration
I hereby declare that this is my last will and testament, and that I hereby revoke, cancel, and annul all wills and codicils previously made by me, either jointly or severally. I declare that I am of legal age to make this will and of sound mind and that this will and testament express my wishes without undue influence or duress.
-
Appointment of Executors
I hereby nominate, constitute, and appoint James Potter as Executor, or if this Executor is unable or unwilling to serve, then I appoint Hadrian Potter as alternate Executor upon his coming of age.
I hereby give and grant the Executor all powers and authority as are required or allowed in law, and especially that of assumption.
I hereby direct that my Executors shall not be required to furnish security and shall serve without any bond.
Pending the distribution of my estate, my Executors shall have the authority to carry on any business, venture or partnership in which I may have any interest at the time of my death.
My Executors shall have full and absolute power in his/her discretion to insure, repair, improve or sell all or any assets of my estate, whether by public auction or private sale and shall be entitled to let any property in my estate on such terms and conditions as will be in the best interest of my beneficiaries.
In the event of my passing, I appoint Sirius Black as guardian of my son, Hadrian Potter, until he reaches the age of majority or can take up his Lordship.
If Sirius Black is unable or unwilling to take up guardianship of the mentioned minor, then the appointed guardianship will fall to Dorcas Meadowes.
Under no circumstances is my child to be placed with his Muggle relatives.
Harry scanned the letter quickly and moved on to his father's, which stated exactly the same as his mother's will, only with their names reversed.
“How the hell did this happen?” asked Harry, weakly looking towards Jeanne as if she would have all the answers.
“Albus Dumbledore has entirely too much power for one man,” she answered gently. "He declared as Supreme Mugwump and Chief Warlock that Lily and James Potter's wills need not be opened unless you requested or you came of age. I can hardly imagine what he was thinking to make such a decision, but obviously it was nothing good from your health report, which was sent to my office almost immediately as soon as it was completed.”
“Harry was selected as a champion of the Goblet of Fire three days ago,” answered Amarx, for clarification of what set all of the current events into motion. “He came seeking a way out of the competition, and luckily for us all, we have a solution that does not involve his death.”
“Right, I figured my poor health would be a good way to get medical leave from the competition.” his words trailed off as he took in the looks of both Jeanne and Amarx.
“Lord Potter, your poor health is not a deciding factor in your enrollment in the games,” growled out Amarx.
“He's right, Lord Potter, the fact that you are a carrier is what will set you free from the magical contract. It is why I brought the other contracts of your house with me, not just the wills of your parents.”
“Right, a carrier, I saw that on my health form. It was completely blocked by Dumbledore. What exactly does it mean, though?”
“It means, Lord Potter. You are one of the rare wizards who are able to carry a child to term and give birth. A contract as serious as the Goblet of Fire can only be cancelled without repercussions to your magic is either life or death,” answered Jeanne, pulling out two parchments from her briefcase, which he grabbed without thought.
Marriage Contract
This Marriage Contract (the 'Agreement') is entered into by Ralston Hardwin Potter and Edrick Warrington for the future union of the Houses of Potter and Warrington.
In the event that a carrier or witch is born to either House Potter or House Warrington, with a suitable heir, this marriage contract can be used to bind both parties together.
An heir for each House is required, at least the first within the first year of marriage and the second when both parties agree, so long as health is of no concern to either.
House Potter recognises the fact that our House is patriarchal in design, and a witch cannot withstand the strain of our family's magic as Heir Apparent.
House Warrington recognises the fact that our house is neither patriarchal nor matriarchal in design, and an heir of either gender will be accepted.
Both parties acknowledge that the above-stated contract is valid and can be signed by any descendant of either family at any time to complete this contract. Any added stipulations can be adjusted as needed by either participating heir.
Signature: ______________ Signature: _______________
Harry shakily removed the top contract after seeing Ralston and Edrick's signatures underneath where he was meant to sign before moving on to the next. It was eerily similar in design to the first.
Marriage Contract
This Marriage Contract (the 'Agreement') is entered into by Henry Linfred Potter and Anastasia Daphne Flint, nee McMillan, for the future union of the Houses of Potter and Flint.
In the event that a carrier or witch is born to either House Potter or House Flint, with a suitable heir, this marriage contract can be used to bind both parties together.
An heir for each House is required, at least the first within the first year of marriage and the second when both parties agree, so long as health is of no concern to either.
House Potter recognises the fact that our House is patriarchal in design, and a witch cannot withstand the strain of our family's magic as Heir Apparent.
House Flint recognises the fact that our House is patriarchal in design, and a witch cannot withstand the strain of our family's magic as Heir Apparent.
Both parties acknowledge that the above-stated contract is valid and can be signed by any descendant of either family at any time to complete this contract. Any added stipulations can be adjusted as needed by either participating heir.
Signature: ______________ Signature: _______________
Harry let out a deep sigh before turning towards Jeanne, a fierce look of determination on his face as he spoke his next words.
“Can you set up a meeting with the Lords of House Flint and Warrington?”
He still felt shaky, and he wasn't too keen on the idea of having a child at the age of fifteen if he were to get pregnant now, but pregnant would be better than dying in this murder tournament, regardless. He was well aware of the lesser of two evils and felt a sense of relief at finally having a solution to this shit show Albus Dumbledore orchestrated.
Pregnant would always be better than dead.
“I can send for them now if you wish, Lord Potter.” Jeanne spoke gently towards him once more, and Harry found he appreciated the warmth of her voice, nodding his head in agreement, “I might be a bit biased, but Marcus and Cassius are both lovely boys. And I'm not just saying that because they're friends with my Graham. I think now that the compulsions have been cleansed from your body, you'll see they aren't as bad as you might have previously thought.”
Harry nodded once more at her words, jerkily, a bit nervous now that she'd put names on the two who were closest in age to him from both Houses. But perhaps the compulsions against the Dark-aligned families and Slytherin house in general really did skew a lot of his memories and actions in the past.
He had a bit of time, it seemed, before the other Lords arrived. He watched as Jeanne took her leave to summon them both, and he looked towards Amarx in hopes of the goblin starting conversation before his nerves got the best of him.
“Carriers can be found in several species, Lord Potter. My own mate is one, and he has given birth to two litters of goblins for our clan.”
Perhaps he should have hoped for a different topic, rather than just the goblin talking in general.