"Come on, move in already!"
Harry Potter ignored the impatient man on his right, his eyes locked on the snowy-white, multistorey edifice that was Gringotts. The bank loomed before him, an architectural beast carved in marble and gold—one of the grandest pieces of real estate in all of Wizarding Britain. It towered over the neighboring shops like it knew it owned the place.
And it was run by goblins. Snarky, calculating, and greedy as hell.
Harry strode up the stairs and pushed through the massive bronze doors into the cool, echoing antechamber. A long hallway stretched ahead, lined with armor-plated goblins gripping wicked-looking javelins. Goblin-made armor, enchanted to deflect everything but the rarest curses. They couldn't do human magic, but what they lacked in spellwork, they more than made up for in craftsmanship.
He stepped into the main entrance hall, a cavernous chamber that put the movie version to shame. Thirteen rows of counters, thirteen ionic pillars, and thirteen shadowy passageways led deeper into the bank's vaults. Whether it was Arithmantic superstition or just aesthetic preference, the goblins were clearly obsessed with the number.
Harry pulled back his hood and approached the nearest goblin. "Harry Potter," he said coolly, voice steady. "I want an accounting of my fortune."
The goblin wrinkled his nose. "And your key, sir?"
Harry handed over the tiny golden key—the same one Proffessor had given him out from that her pouch back in his first year. The goblin snatched it with a practiced motion, squinting at the metal before scowling and handing it back. Maybe he was disappointed it wasn't a fake so he could toss Harry into a pit of despair.
"Very well," the goblin said, tone clipped and smug. "Please revisit our premises after one hundred and forty-two hours. We will reserve a slot for you with Gornuk."
Harry cleared his throat. "Is there any way to… expedite the process?"
The goblin narrowed his eyes. "Ten Galleons for instant accounting. Seventeen and a half if you'd like all documents arranged and delivered to your premises via owl before you leave the bank."
So that's how they made their real money.
"Fine," Harry said. "Lead the way."
When a goblin gives his word, he means it.
For the next three hours, Harry Potter sat across from an accountant named Gornuk—a lean, hawk-nosed goblin with eyes like polished jet and a quill that moved faster than most wizard's wands. The meeting began with a modest pile of parchment but soon evolved into a bureaucratic siege. Stacks of folders emerged from nowhere, climbing like paper towers from the marble floor. Documents were signed, acknowledgment slips verified, security mandates revisited—most of which Harry had never even known existed. Being underage had exempted him from them all, but now that exemption was revoked with prejudice.
Once the paperwork nightmare was over, Gornuk personally escorted him to Vault 687—Potter family property.
Reading about it in school books was one thing. Seeing it was another. The vault's interior glittered like the belly of a dragon: gold, silver, and galleons piled in heaps, a treasure hoard worthy of legend. For a long second, Harry just stared, wide-eyed, as the flickering torchlight bounced off more wealth than most saw in their entire lives.
He was suddenly glad he had come himself.
Had he sent someone else to claim his inheritance, he might never have seen this much gold with his own eyes.
With only the barest hesitation, Harry scooped several dozen Galleons and a few Sickles into his enchanted pouch, nodded to the cart operator, and returned to Gornuk's office for the final accounting.
And what an accounting it was.
Gornuk adjusted his monocle and began, voice clinical and smooth.
"Among House Potter's major investments: you receive an annual thirty-six percent royalty from Sleekeazy's Hair Potion Products Incorporated. There is a ten percent annual revenue share from Slug & Jiggers Apothecary, and a twelve point five percent annual dividend from the Firebolt Broom Company."
He flipped another parchment.
"Counting liquid assets, secured gold,existing vault holdings, real estate, insurance margins,and House Expenses—adjusted for inflation—
House Potter's current valuation stands ateighteen million, eight hundred and seventeen thousand Galleons,nine Sickles, and four Knuts."
Harry blinked.
Then blinked again.
"Eighteen million…?" he rasped.
"Eight hundred and seventeen thousand Galleons, nine Sickles, and four Knuts," Gornuk confirmed, not missing a beat.
Harry coughed, throat suddenly dry. "Go on."
The goblin studied Harry with a look of vague disapproval, his beady eyes flicking back to the stack of parchments. His quill scratched a few more lines across the page, and then he read aloud, barely looking up.
"A twenty thousand Galleon deposit from the Wizengamot,for the Order of Merlin, First Class,awarded for your role in the demise of the Dark Lord…"
The goblin's tone soured at the mention of Voldemort's death.
"Eleven thousand Galleons and five Sickles for various bountiesplaced by independent contractors on the Dark Lord,and a three thousand four hundred and fifty-seven Galleons and nine Knutsfrom Lily Evans' personal vault,plus property located at 17 Tottenham Court Road, London."
"Wait, property? That's… a flat, right? Can I move in?"
The goblin gave him a sharp, almost pitying look, as though the question was beneath him, but nonetheless, he answered.
"It is your property, Mr. Potter."
"I'd like to move into that apartment."
"Easily arranged," the goblin said, before taking yet another piece of parchment and peering at it. "What else?"
Gornuk looked at Harry calculatingly. "There is also the last will and testament of Sirius Orion Black, Heir of the Black Family, bequeathing everything to you in case of his demise. Which is not much different, as he is in prison."
Harry blinked.
"...Say that again?"
"Mr. Black visited Gringotts on December 7th, 1995, to make changes to his account. It was on his instruction that Gringotts altered his will to hand over all monies, properties, and other fortunes of the House of Black to Harry James Potter."
"And… what does that entail?"
"Vault 1187, belonging to Alphard Sagitarius Black,name transferred to Sirius Orion Black,current monetary assets of three hundred and seventy-four thousand Galleons,nine Sickles, and one Knut.
There is also the possession of a farmhouse in Espelette, France,and… an enchanted Muggle vehicle,loaned to one Rubeus Hagrid."
"Fine… please continue."
Gornuk frowned, and lifted a single package and carefully placed it on the desk before Harry.
"What's this?"
The goblin gave Harry an inscrutable stare before pulling out another piece of parchment from his drawer.
"Harry James Potter.Son of James Potter, and through him, his father Fleamont, and grandfather Charlus,you're descended from Dorea Potter, formerly Dorea Andromeda Black,daughter of Cygnus Black II and Violetta Bulstrode.Sirius Orion Black, last recognized Heir of House Black, named you his Heir in return."
"Regardless of Mr. Black's status as a prisoner in Azkaban,House Black has a Special Circumstances Provision with Gringotts,authorizing us to continue financial matters with House Black members,irrespective of the Ministry mandate.
Which is why Gringotts recognizes Mr. Sirius Black's authenticity as the Lord of House Black,regardless of the Ministry's stance on the matter.The hiccup only arrives when conferring the title to you."
Harry had an inkling of where the goblin was going. Or at least, he thought he did.
"The current Regency of House Black rests on Lucius Malfoy.His son Draco Lucius is the other Heir of the Black Family,through his mother Narcissa Druella Malfoy, formerly Black.
Offering the mantle of House Black to you goes against Ministry Law,which I'm sure you'll agree, is too much of a pain to deal with."
Harry empathized with the creature.
"I imagine you have a solution?"
Gornuk's teeth showed. "You're a celebrity, Mr. Potter.If you were to, say, be an active promoter of Gringotts for the next…ten years, it'd go a long way in countering the negative press from the Ministry's side.
As a token of thanks, we could expedite the process for the Mantle transfer to you.Gringotts can confer the title of Lord Black to you.That includes Assets of Vault 19 belonging to the House of Black, including liquid assets worth twelve million, one hundred and twenty-three thousand galleons and six sickles,
counting for Insurance and House Costs adjusted for inflation.We do not currently have an accounting of the non-liquid assets, but that is irrelevant for now."
"I wasn't born yesterday, goblin," I said back,"if you had nothing to gain, we wouldn't be having this conversation.Lucius Malfoy wouldn't give you a grateful nod for siding with his brat,and oh yes, if I reject the deal, the promotion is off the table as well."
"As is the Black fortune," Gornuk replied slyly.
"True," I shot back,
"but you have me confused with a greedy gold-loving bastard."His eyes grew to flints at my not-so-subtle insult but I continued before he could retort."You want this ship sailing? Then sweeten the deal."