I Don't Want to be A Hero - Ch. 13

Gringotts

Harry and Professor Snape had spent a very rough night of Harry expelling more tics, tremors and shakes from the Cruciatus Curse. It was not until early morning, near to five of the clock that the effects passed, and both were able to catch a little bit of sleep. Snape made sure Harry was deeply asleep, and then with a yawn, he dropped into his own bed clothed in trousers, socks, and a rather wrinkled and torn linen shirt.

A gentle chime woke them both just before breakfast so it was a mad dash for the loo and the shower, and dressing before Harry darted off to join his friends. Professor Snape would arrive, as he always did, during breakfast. He would speak to one or two Slytherins and go to the Head table where a cup of bitter black coffee awaited him. He would decide upon a sausage or some bacon, and then he would speak to Minerva.

That morning, though, Snape had two notes to write for two of Harry's teachers so that he was properly excused from Beginner Broom Flying, and History of Magic. He also wrote a third note to the nosy, but conscientious Miss Granger who would take notes in History of Magic, and copy them for her friend.

Harry was pleased to see Hermione and Ron, and scoffed at the redhead when he questioned him to make sure Harry was not getting beaten up by the terrible 'Git of the Dungeons'.

Harry took copious notes in Transfiguration and Charms, and did his best not to lock gazes with Professor McGonagall who had a terrible habit of looking down upon him over the rims of her silver spectacles. In Charms he was asked to stay after class before being dismissed for lunch. Obediently Harry packed his book bag, and stayed seated.

"Harry, I hear you are going to get a new wand today, eh?" the small professor smiled.

"Professor Snape is taking me, sir. I won't have to use Ron's wand anymore." He smiled brightly and the little wizard chuckled.

"After you return from Diagon Alley would you come to my office? I would like to evaluate your wand."

Harry nodded. "Okay. I'll bring it to you. Can I go now, sir?"

Professor Flitwick nodded. "Have an enjoyable afternoon, Harry. I shall see you later." With a small wave of his hand he 'shoo'd' the student from his class.

Harry jumped down the stairs skipping a few on his way down. He then hit the corridor and ran; he loved to run and so he hit the Entrance Hall with a clatter, thunderous (for an eleven year old) trainers, and a huge grin.

Harry skidded to a stop that send him falling to his backside. Forward energy propelled him right to the booted feet of his extremely tall, gargantuan scowling Potions professor. Like a huge, black shadow Professor Snape, his arms crossed tightly over his chest in deep disgust, glowered down at the small child on the floor.

"Mr. Potter, apply decorum and lift yourself from that dirty floor before someone sees you."

Although Snape did not raise his voice above a normal timbre to Harry it felt like the man's voice roared through him. Wiping the grin from his face he scrambled to his feet, and began to dust at his robes.

"I'm sorry, sir! I was just worried I was late, and I was really excited...!"

The professor waved his wand, "Evanesco!" Harry watched as the dust lifted from the cloth of his robes and vanished. "Rules, Mr. Potter." Harry lifted his head, and could see by the storm in the wizard's face that he was in trouble. "Life is governed by them. As such, even Hogwarts has its share, and one of those is 'no running in the halls'."

"But I..."

Snape held up a hand to stop the child from protesting. "There is no excuse that will suffice unless Death himself was after you. Were you about to die, Mr. Potter?"

"No, sir," Harry's head fell as he glared at the toes of his trainers.

"Then there was no need to be running, was there?"

"But, Professor Flitwick kept me after class and you told me to be on time! If I didn't run I'd be late. I'm sorry, Professor Snape. I just didn't want to be late." Harry felt awful. His stomach burbled sickly and his arms went over his belly to comfort it.

Snape spied the motion of protection the boy made to himself, and he felt a burning dislike for his own actions bloom deep inside. He knew that two of his more sneaky Slytherins - Pansy Parkinson and a fifth year student - were trying to keep to the shadows as they watched their Head of House. He could not afford to let them know where his loyalty truly lay.

"Twenty-five points, Mr. Potter." Harry's head shot up, and his eyes widened indignantly. "Normally I would take 50 but it is my assumption that you have yet to fully familiarise yourself with the rules of Hogwarts." Very slightly Snape relaxed his stance. "Come, Mr. Potter. The Apparation point is outside the gates."

The great door opened, and Professor Snape stepped through. For a second Harry paused, and then he hurried (without running!) after his teacher.  Outside the gates of Hogwarts Harry felt himself lifted from his feet, and as his teacher spun he threw his arms around the man's neck in order to hang on for dear life.

The Side-Apparation was a short one that deposited Harry (still holding onto his professor with eyes closed, arms around the man's neck, and legs around his waist) and his teacher just at the foot of the steps to Gringotts.

"Harry," whispered Snape into the child's ear soothingly. At the same time he patted the child's back. "That was Apparation. One of the ways in which we travel. It can be disorienting, at first, which is why I held you. Will you now stop acting like a leech? You are about to strangle me."

Harry slowly relaxed and with Snape's help slid down and was righted on the first step to Gringotts. "Sorry, sir. It was kinda scary, but neat. I wish magic was always like that."

"Well, to be honest, Harry, magic is quite... neat... most of the time. It is unfortunate that there are some wizards, and witches, who wield Dark magic." Snape sighed, and with a hand to nudge Harry he directed him up the stone steps. "It is also unfortunate that there are good wizards and witches who hold little boys to unreasonable expectations."

Harry turned on the top step, and Snape paused -- he was eye to eye with the young wizard. "You mean me, sir?"

"Most assuredly, Mr. Potter," Professor Snape pointed at the large doors of ancient, gleaming bronze. "Shall we?"

Before them the closed doors were emblazoned with the words:

Enter, stranger, but take heed

Of what awaits the sin of greed

For those who take, but do not earn,

Must pay most dearly in their turn.

So if you seek beneath our floors

A treasure that was never yours,

Thief, you have been warned, beware

Of finding more than treasure there.

"I remember when Hagrid brought me here," mused Harry thinking back to that day when it seemed all the blessings in the world were opening doors of wonder for him.

Snape said nothing but watched as the small boy looked upon the warning with infinite sadness. Breaking the melancholy the professor pushed open the door to reveal the interior of Gringotts.

The grand hall of marble, and wood, and copper towered imposingly above and around them. Walking down the centre along a tiled entryway Harry was keenly aware of the beady-eyed stares of dozens of goblins behind tall, barred cages of black iron. Each goblin was seated at a tall desk, and each goblin held a quill of raven feather in his hand.

At the end of the hallway behind a tall podium of cream marble, and a desk of highly polished oak was the manager of the bank, a grizzled looking goblin with a short, grey beard, and spectacles perched on the end of his pointed nose. The manager watched man and boy approach him with the suspicion and distrust that was natural to a goblin.

"Wizard Severus Snape," sneered the old and large goblin as his quill stilled in his hand. The magnificent ostrich feather brushed lightly against the creature's bald head. "What do you want of Gringotts today?"

"I have with me Harry Potter, the heir to the Potter Vault." Snape removed the envelope with the key to the Potter vault and handed it to the goblin who snatched it from him with talons that ended in nasty, razor sharp claws. Harry took a cautious step backwards and felt Professor Snape at his back. He was holding his breath and only let it out when a protective hand rested on his shoulder.

The goblin had taken out the key which was of aged brass that no longer had any gleam to it. "Identification confirmed by the Potter key and its magical signature. Griphook is in charge of the Potter Vault. He will assist."

"This way, Wizards."

Harry gulped as he saw a goblin, no taller than himself, had appeared by the manager's desk. Griphook appeared as surly as the manager, and he took the key he was given, pocketed it, then led the two wizards into a short corridor that led to a black marble arch. Beyond the arch Harry could see an endless, sickening trail of railway and carts that sped on by. In front of the arch one cart of awfully looking old wood waited for them. Another goblin, stockier, and with one tooth that protruded over his lower lip, did not look at him. He had his hand curled around what appeared to be a mining cart braking rod.

Harry watched as Griphook jumped into the cart, and as it creaked with the goblin's weight he was not so certain he wanted to ride in the cart. Professor Snape nudged him firmly from behind so he clambered in. Right behind him was his teacher who directed him to sit on the bench at the end of the cart.

"Drink this, Harry," ordered the Potions Master.

Harry glanced at a small phial in the slim fingers of the wizard's hand. Without asking, and with supreme trust in his teacher (Snape noted) Harry downed the potion just as the cart jerked into motion.

Seconds later Harry did not need to ask what the professor had given him as the cart careened up and down on the rails at such a high speed he knew he would be losing his breakfast without it. As it was, Harry was only merely frightened and gripped his teacher's arm in a death grip. The cart raced faster, and Harry let out little yeeps at every curve.

The Potters had been a very old, Pureblood wizarding family. Over nearly three centuries their wealth had been accumulated from heroic acts in wars and battles where members had nearly all been warriors, soldiers, and in a few cases (that no one spoke of) mercenaries.

James Potter had grown up in this wealth and privilege and although his grandparents mingled with society known Purebloods it was James along with encouragement from his mother after his father died when the boy was very young who allowed him to make the friends he wanted. Sirius Black had become such a friend; rejected by his own family, and a known rule-breaker, James had become fast friends with Sirius.

Until Lily Evans came into his life James Potter was a bit of a wastrel as far as the wealth of the Potter family was concerned. Far too soon James came into control of his family estate, and he and Sirius spent as only teenaged boys might. With the arrival of Lily, James listened to her as she spoke against the growing threat of the Dark wizard known then as Lord Voldemort. It was in their sixth year Lord Voldemort and a group of his Dark Knights (not yet known as Death Eaters) had killed his grandparents and his mother. James would have been killed as well but he had thankfully been at Hogwarts. Lily had comforted James, and it was then that he began to put the Potter wealth to work towards the end of Lord Voldemort and his minions.

The Potter Vault was very far below the main building of Gringotts where it had been for three centuries. When Griphook opened the vault the meagre-looking piles of galleons, knuts, and sickles looked very small in the vast space. There was some antique furniture of decent quality, and a few paintings of Potter ancestors, of nature and landscapes, and of cottages and manors that at one time had been owned by the Potters.

Harry's eyes were wide as he looked into the nearly bare contents of his family's vault. He had never seen such riches before in his life. So awed was he by all that glittered within he did not hear his name being spoken by Griphook.

"Mr. Potter," drawled Professor Snape. "Do pay attention. You are being addressed."

"Oh?" he looked to his teacher who nodded at the goblin banker behind him. Harry gave Griphook his attention.

Griphook held out a scroll that was sealed with the Gringotts sigil, and a small aura of magic. "Mr. Potter, this is a complete accounting of all the contents of your vault. The property has also all been listed with their current market values. I have been assigned as your banker, and if there is anything you want sold I am empowered to act as your broker until or unless you appoint someone else until the day of your majority."

Harry studied the scroll and then looked, almost timidly, into HIS vault. "This is all mine?"

Professor Snape replied, "This is what you inherited from your parents, Mr. Potter."

"Wow....!" gasped Harry. His expression of delight suddenly fell off his face, and he turned fully to his teacher. "Sir, is the Headmaster going to tell my aunt and uncle about this? They'll want it all because freaks like me don't get to have money!"

Snape dropped down to one knee so he could look into the emerald green eyes of the child. "Even if Professor Dumbledore does tell your relatives about your inheritance they will not be able to touch it."

"But Aunt Petunia is always telling me that I'm costing them lots of money..." his voice faded with his worry.

Griphook scowled even darker, and spoke up, "The ownership of a vault is inviolable, Mr. Potter. You are the heir of the Potter vault and therefore it is up to you how anything within it is disbursed."

"In simpler terms, Mr. Potter," translated Snape, "only you have legal ownership over this vault and its contents. No one else does even should they learn of it."

“Mr. Snape,” Griphook addressed the professor. “There is a matter we ought to discuss as you are listed as a guardian of the Potter boy.”

“What is it, Griphook?” asked Snape as he stepped a little way away from Harry. “At 11:37 in the evening Albus Dumbledore rescinded his guardianship of the boy. The wizard is in possession of a magical artifact of some considerable value. I do believe you ought to secure it for Mr. Potter.”

“What is this artifact, Griphook?” he glanced quickly at Harry who had stepped tentatively into his vault.

“An Invisibility Cloak, Mr. Snape. The boy is under-age and should not have access…”

Snape’s lips thinned as he nodded in agreement, “...to something that powerful. I will take care of it, Griphook.”

Harry peered into the open door of the vault. He then looked to his teacher. "There wasn't anything in any of my books about wizarding money, sir. I don't know how much to take for today."

Professor Snape rose to his feet and drew his cloak around himself. "100 galleons should be sufficient."

Harry smiled at his teacher then turned to Griphook. "I'd like 100 galleons, please."

Griphook nodded. The goblin plucked a leather draw-bag purse from his hip, opened it, then waved his fingers in towards the Potter vault. Fascinated Harry gasped as 100 pieces of gold flew from one of the piles of money into the bag that Griphook was holding. When all the galleons had settled the goblin closed the bag, and handed it to Harry.

"Wow!" Harry hefted the small bag as a feeling of wealth spread over him like comfort that could not be taken away.

Harry remained fascinated with the weight of the gold that Professor Snape had shown him how to tie at his waist as the took the harrowing ride up the rails above all the vaults. Snape was relatively quiet as he mused over to two pieces of information Griphook had given him, three if he was now a full guardian as opposed to a temporary guardian to the young Gryffindor.

They left the goblin bank and Professor Snape led him across the street to a small office that was an adjunct office the Ministry. It was cool inside, and they were met by a colourful parrot in shades of blue.

“Just you wait! Just you wait!” squawked the parrot. Harry giggled, and it immediately gravitated towards that source of levity. “Feed me, small wizard!” Demanded the bird.

Harry glanced around until he spied a jar with a hand-written label on it that read, “Chauncey Treats”.

“Can I, sir?” Harry asked politely.

“It is May I, Mr. Potter,” corrected Snape, “And, you may. No more than three treats, though.”

“Hello!” a young woman, seemingly hardly out of her own teens, literally popped into being behind the desk. She was smiling brightly until she saw the scowling features of a very recognisable face. “Oh! Professor Snape… uhm… what may I do for you?”

“Miss Amandine Saint,” he purred in a not so terribly nice way. “I would like an update on the status of my guardianship over Mr. Harry Potter.”

“Yes, sir. One moment.” The young woman popped away and they were left alone in the tiny office with Chauncey the parrot.

“I’ve got an owl named Hedwig,” Harry was speaking softly to Chauncey. “I haven’t seen her in awhile so I hope she’s okay.” He fed Chauncey a treat that he nibbled down, and then he nipped Harry’s finger. Harry giggled. “You know, I go to magic school here and it’s sorta neat…”

“Professor Snape…” the Potions Master turned to the girl and glared at her into silence. He hoped to learn something as Harry spoke to the parrot. Children, he had long since noted, would rather speak to a trusted animal than an adult.

Harry continued as though he was unaware of the adults in the small office. “I got friends… Hermione and Ron. Hermione likes books sorta like I do but I think she’s obsessed over them. Ron’s lazy but he’s a good guy. He’s funny, too. And, nobody beats up on me like my cousin does.” He sighed and gave the parrot another treat. “It’s nice but it’s not what I thought it was all going to be.” He leaned closer to Chauncey and the parrot jumped off his perch to be nearer the boy. “Sometimes I want to go back to the Dursleys.” Sadly he gave Chauncey his last treat, and then stroked his breast.

Amandine saw Harry’s frown, came around the counter and crouched down so she was at his height. “Hi, Harry.”

“Hi,” he replied politely. Cautiously, though, he backed a bit closer to Professor Snape. “I like your parrot.”

“Chauncey’s my familiar,” replied Amandine.

“Are parrots allowed as familiars?” asked Harry.

“The Headmaster didn’t like him but my Head of House convinced Professor Dumbledore to let me keep him.” Even though Professor Snape still glowered Amandine Saint gave him a brilliant smile.

“Cool!” enthused Harry. “Who was your Head of House?”

“Miss Saint was in my House, Mr. Potter,” interjected the wizard.

“I’m in Gryffindor. Professor Snape had to take me to Diagon Alley because the Headmaster told him to. I… uhm… lost my wand.” Harry did his best to show that he did not like his Slytherin teacher.

“Miss Saint? The information I requested, if you please,” he interrupted coldly.

Amandine patted Harry’s head. With a quick aside she stage-whispered, “You can give Chauncey a few more treats. I don’t think he’d mind.” She then moved quickly behind her counter, and held out a scroll to the older wizard. “A copy of the official document, Professor. Albus Dumbledore transferred the complete guardianship of Harry Potter to you late last night.”

Professor Snape frowned as he unrolled the parchment and read it. He was indeed the guardian of the young Potter. It was an action he did not mind but he found it confusing. He would never have guessed from his discussion with Albus last night that he would give up the child. And, certainly not to him.

“Miss Saint?” Professor Snape held up the scroll he was rolling up. “As I did at Hogwarts, I may count on your discretion in this matter?”

Amandine stretched out her hand to pet her familiar. “Because of you, sir, my da’s safe. No one will know of your inquiry.”

Nodding, the Potions Master directed Harry towards the door. Looking over his shoulder, he smiled at the young woman, “Bye!”

Amandine Saint smiled, and she gave Harry a little wave. As man and boy left her office she heard Harry comment, “I like Slytherins, sir.”

The young woman chuckled, and with a wave of her wand she erased all record of her old teacher’s visit to her small office. No one would ever know that Professor Snape, or his ward Harry Potter, were there.