"Well, Vic, how do you feel?" Arcturus asked, taking a seat behind the desk. Harry jumped into his Uncle Pads lap.
The now named Victor, please call me Vic, answered, "Fine," as his headache faded away. He was feeling good too. Whatever happened to him in prison that healed him did a bang-up job. He was thinking clearly and in fine physical health.
"Can you still turn into a dog?" Harry wanted to know. He liked the dog form. He vaguely remembered it from when he was a baby, now that he had seen it again as a grown boy. It was like a tickle in the back of his brain. He would be sad if it disappeared. That and he wanted to be able to call the man Uncle Pads.
"That's actually a very good question," the old man said, tapping his finger on the desk. "If your animagus is the same, that might blow this whole cover. Though it is doubtful it remained consistent. Your bone structure is different." He looked at his very different looking grandson. He definitely looked like a Potter now.
"Let's find out," Vic said as he put Harry on the chair and changed into his dog form. He no longer looked like a Grim but was now a chocolate lab. He was dark brown in color and his ears were floppy instead of standing straight up. He was no longer tall and slim, but shorter and bulkier. He was a handsome dog instead of scary, something to cuddle with. He looked like a dog that you would trust going into an alley with.
"Yay," Harry said, clapping happily. "Uncle Pads is still Uncle Pads, sorta."
Vic walked around a bit, getting used to his new form and licked Harry's face until the boy couldn't breathe due to his giggles. He changed back and smiled. "I think that takes care of that," he said, picking up Harry and putting him back on his lap as he sat. "I like it, and I'm still a padfoot," he added, glad he was still a canine.
"So, I can still call you Uncle Pads," Harry chirped, clapping his hands. He liked the new form. It was a nice dog and not a scary one.
"Yes, that is a relief," Arcturus said, pleased. Sirius would have been so disappointed if that had changed.
"So, what now?" Vic asked, wanting to get things going. He was a free man now and he couldn't wait to explore what that meant. He had Harry and once all the dust settled, they were going to be a family. He knew he was going to have a fight on his hands, but he was willing to do that. He'd even take on Dumbledore to keep Harry. He knew he wasn't going to be close friends with Remus now, but sacrifices had to be made. That and he was miffed that the man was not in the boy's life. He bloody well should have been. There was no excuse.
"Now we transfer the wards. I want to get that done before we do anything else. It should be simple enough. They are tied to Harry," Arcturus said, standing and going to the two in the chair. He waved his wand around Harry doing an intricate spell and making the boy glow.
"Whoa," Harry said, seeing the light surrounding him. He really liked it when he could see magic. It was all still new to him, and he hoped it never got old.
There was a cord-like light leading from the boy and away from the house. "That's the ward," the old man said, pointing to the string. He then made a cutting motion and kept his wand at the tip of where he severed it. He moved that tip to Vic and said, "Connect pupilli." The cord snapped into place and Vic glowed too. Then the wards flared out and surrounded the house. They merged with the wards already in place.
Arcturus frowned at that. That would have to be addressed later. That or they would have to make this the boy's permanent residence.
"Wow," Harry said, looking at all the pretty lights and magic. He reached out to touch the lights, but his hand passed right through them. It tickled like licking a battery, but other than that he couldn't feel them. He was disappointed that he couldn't touch magic, and he frowned a bit.
"What's that on Harry's head," Vic asked, seeing the black spot where the scar was. It was like the wards just avoided that location. Or enclosed it, it was hard to tell. There was just a blank spot that was dark and wicked.
He never liked what he felt from that scar and seeing it like this with the magic showing that there was something there… well, this was bad. They were going to have to do something about it.
"We need to get a healer here, or take him to St. Mungo's," his grandfather said, leaning in and taking a good look at the scar. "I don't like the looks of that," he added, narrowing his eyes at it. He knew dark magic when he saw it, and this was very dark. He couldn't quite put his finger on what it was, but it was evil.
"I think I'd prefer to go to the goblins. They have curse-breakers," Vic said, not trusting the healers to keep Harry's visit a secret. He had read too many things in the newspaper about celebrities that had visited there. He just knew that if they took Harry, it would be on the front page of the Daily Prophet the next day. He wanted to keep the fact that Harry was with them secret as long as they could. At least until the ink was dry on the custody parchments.
"Bah," Arcturus said, waving his hand in a 'whatever' gesture. "Do what you will." It wasn't that he didn't trust the goblins, but he preferred the wizards. He was biased like that.
"Do I still have access to my vault?" Vic asked, hoping he still had money, or this was going to get much harder. He had no idea where his key was. It had been on his person when he had been arrested. He figured it had been returned to the bank.
"We'll go to the bank and set you up under your new name," the old man said, not wanting to deprive the boy of his inheritance. The goblins could be bought, and they were discrete for a fee. Hence one of the reasons he didn't trust them wholly. "We can do that now." He went to get his outer robe and started towards the floo room. "While we're there you can inquire about their healers."
"Okay," Vic said, getting up and putting Harry on his hip. "Come on, Harry, you can meet the goblins," he told the boy. He too went to get his traveling robe. He knew there would be one Harry's size, or if not then they could shrink one.
"Are they mean?" the little boy asked, only having heard stories about vicious beings that ate humans. Aunt Petunia never read those stories, but the lady in the school library did. He remembered seeing the picture of the one in the newspaper this morning and they looked mean.
"Well, they are surly, but I wouldn't call them mean," Vic said, thinking that they were rude, but not out and out mean.
They had gotten into their robes and there had been one Harry's size. Now, they were making their way down the hall and Harry was still fascinated with all the moving pictures and trinkets that puffed smoke.
"They aren't going to kill me and eat me, are they?" the child asked, fear very evident in his voice. He really didn't want to become supper to some greedy goblin.
"Where do you get these notions?" Arcturus asked, looking at him queerly. Who had been filling the boy with such tales? He had heard some things from that rag the Quibbler, but he was sure that Harry had never read that magazine.
"From the stories in the library," Harry said honestly. The lady in the school library loved the stories about heroic elves and evil goblins that ate humans. She read them all the time. "They were scary," he confessed.
"Muggles have strange tales. No, the goblins don't eat children. Hags do," the old man said, trying to put the boy's fear to rest.
"Are we going to see any hags?" Harry asked, his eyes wide. He'd never heard of a hag before. His imagination was going wild with pictures of huge beings that had boils and horns.
"No, they are only in Knockturn Alley. I never want to see you down there, until you are at least seventeen," Vic said, his tone firm. He had no clue as to what Harry was picturing in his head.
"Okay," Harry said, nodding his head, even though he was confused. He didn't even know where Knockturn Alley was. How was he supposed to know how not to go down there?
By this time, they were at the floo, and the adults were ready to go to Diagon Alley. "Harry, you will go with Siri…I mean Vic," Arcturus said, still stumbling over Vic's name. Was he even considered his grandson anymore? Dammit, one less family member. He might have to rethink adopting Harry.
"What will we be doing?" Harry asked, looking around for how they will be traveling. He didn't see any exits or vehicles.
"I'm going to put magical powder in the fire, and we're going to be transported via the fireplace," the old man explained, taking down a pot that held the floo powder.
"You want me to go into the fire?" the terrified boy asked, knowing that he'd die if he did that. He had put his hand near a fire once as a baby and it had burned him. It had hurt. A lot. He knew better than to do that now.
"The powder will make it so it won't burn you," Vic said, quickly. "Trust me, I would never hurt you," he added, looking at him sincerely. "Watch," he said, throwing some powder in the fire and sticking his hand in the now green flames. It didn't burn him at all.
"Don't ever do that without an adult around," Arcturus said, wanting to make sure that the child knew better. "We know when it is safe and when it is not. When you are older, you can do it yourself." His piercing eyes looked at Harry's making sure he understood what he was saying.
"Okay," Harry said, squirming on Vic's hip. He trusted his new uncle and grandfather, but it was fire. He respected and feared fire.
Arcturus went first and showed Harry that it was safe, and then Vic made a big production of putting the powder in the fire and making sure to put his hand in the fire first to show it wouldn't burn. They then went into the fire and to the Leaky Cauldron. Stepping out into the pub was confusing for Harry. He was not used to crowds; he had been in the cupboard too long. The most crowded place he had ever been was school, and they were all kids.
He buried his face in Vic's shoulder as they made their way out of the pub to Diagon Alley and then to Gringotts. He looked around as much as he could from his position, but he couldn't see much. He could hear though and the things he was hearing were bizarre. What the heck was a newt? Or a sickle? Did wizards really fly on brooms? And could he get one?
They made good time to the bank and waited in line for the first teller. Arcturus took charge and addressed the goblin.
"Good afternoon, teller. I need to speak to Sharptooth," he said, tapping his cane on the floor in an impatient manner. He was old and not one to wait.
"Go stand over there, and I will let him know you are here," the teller said, pointing to a set of double doors. He wrote a quick note and put it in a slot, then waved to the next customer. He too was an impatient being. That and he hated his job, but what was he to do. He was low goblin on the totem pole.
"Thank you," Arcturus said, leading them to the bench near the doors. They sat and waited for around three minutes. All the while Harry was staring at all the people and goblins. He had never seen such an array of interesting people before.
They were dressed in clothing he had only seen in storybooks and the goblins were dressed like businessmen from the telly, albeit old-fashioned business suits. There were riches that he had never laid eyes on, like jewels and gold. He wondered if he would ever own any like them. Did he even have a vault?
"Uncle Pads?" he asked, looking at the man's new face.
"Yeah?"
"Do I have money?" he asked, his eyes wide with wonder. He never had money before.
"Of course, you do," Vic said, his brow scrunched with thought. "I don't know where your key is though," he said as he frowned at that thought. Who had Harry's key? Was it here at the bank?
"Oh," was all Harry could say to that.
"We'll find out," Arcturus said, his brow furrowed as well. They would have to look into that when they got this whole adoption thing settled.
"Come," a goblin said as it opened the door on the right.
They got up and joined the surly goblin and followed him down the hall to an ornate door that said 'Black Accounts' on it. Inside the office was a goblin that had a beard. Well, it wasn't a full beard, but it looked like it wanted to be. Harry was trying not to laugh at the attempt. It was more like fuzz that was sticking out of a tiny chin.
"What brings you to my office today, Arcturus?" Sharptooth asked, scribbling away with a quill. He had a lot of work to do and little time for humans.
"I have many things that need to be done," the old man said, taking a seat in the chair in front of the desk and nodding at Vic to do the same. "I need your discretion as well," he added conspiratorially. "It's legal, and moral… mostly," he stated, looking straight ahead. He didn't want to look shifty.
"I see," the goblin said, looking closely at Harry and Vic. He recognized Harry Potter right away, the scar was a dead giveaway, but the other human was unknown to him. He pushed a rune on his desk and sealed his office. "There, we are sealed in. No one will hear us," he said, gesturing for Arcturus to explain.
"This was my grandson, Sirius Black. He has undergone a blood adoption to the Potter family. He is now Harry Potter's uncle, Victor Henry Potter. I need to transfer all his accounts over to that name," the old man said, gesturing to Vic, who waggled his fingers at the goblin.
"I see," Sharptooth said, digging in his desk and pulling up some transfer papers. "This can be done easily for a fee of 500 galleons," he added. He didn't pull the fee from the air. This was not something he'd come across before, but there were other attempts at hiding relatives, and that was the standard fee.
"Done. Is there any way we can do this without parchmentwork?" Arcturus asked, worried about the parchment trail.
"Afraid not," was the answer. "However, I can redact it," Sharptooth said, making all the necessary entries on the form. "I need your new full name and new birthdate if you are changing that," he said to Vic.
"Oh, I hadn't thought of that," Vic said, thinking hard for a moment. "Victor Henry Potter. Born, 25 July 1958. Father, Charlus Potter; mother, Abigail Spinster. I'm a bastard," he said proudly.
"You're making yourself a year older?" Arcturus asked, wondering the reason.
"If I'm going to be a bastard child, I'd rather not be the same age as James," Vic explained his logic.
"I guess that makes sense. We'll need to get you an aging potion," his grandfather said, thinking they needed it in case anyone needed to verify the man's age via a spell. "Sharptooth, we need documentation for Victor here," he stated, waving to the other man.
"There is a man in Knockturn Alley. He is pricey, but he does good work. He can get you excellent quality documentation that will pass any spell work. His name is Spike," the goblin said, still filling out the transfer papers. "You can't miss him, he's taller than most there and has bright green hair. He hangs out in the Melting Candle."
"We can't take Harry there," Vic said, looking at his new nephew.
"I'll go tonight," Arcturus said, then rethought that. "I'll have Marcus bring the man to me. Oh, I'll figure something out," he said, his brain going over scenarios.
They were quiet while Sharptooth wrote out the transfer parchments. Then Vic couldn't handle the silence.
"We need to get Harry seen by a goblin healer. There's something wrong with his scar. I think it's cursed. Who better than curse-breakers to look at it," Vic said, trying to butter the goblin up.
"Flattery will not get you anywhere here," Sharptooth said, peering at the boy's forehead. "However, you are correct. It is a cursed scar. I will send you down there when we are done here. Now, sign here, here, and here. Initial here, here and here," He pointed to all the indicated spots that needed the signatures and initials.
Vic signed both Sirius' name and Victor's. He was now the owner of a new vault all his own. He would no longer be getting an allowance from the Black family vault. He would need to find a way to make his own money. Though he need not bother, he was still quite rich.
"There, now that that is done, let's get this young man to the healers," Sharptooth said, getting up from his chair and moving to the door. Time was money and he wasted neither. He led them down to the bowels of the bank to the infirmary.
It looked like any other hospital wing. There were beds, with tables next to them with bottles of potions on them. The goblin healers and nurses were bustling around, and the patients were laying and receiving their treatments.
"Healer Mayfly," Sharptooth called out to the healer that looked least busy.
A female goblin came hustling up and stopped in front of them. "What?" she barked out.
"I have a patient," the manager said, indicating Harry. "He has a curse on his head, within his scar," he added, making Harry move his hair and showing the lightning bolt scar.
"Ah, Harry Potter. I had always hoped to get a look at that scar," the healer said, leaning forward to peer at the facial disfigurement. She then stood back up and waved them to follow her to an empty bed.
They did and soon enough Harry was up on the bed and laying down. He looked concerned and Vic and Arcturus were trying to console him into relaxing.
"It'll be okay, Harry. They are going to get rid of whatever it is," Vic said, running his hand up and down Harry's arm.
"Yes, don't fret, child," Arcturus said, standing by the boy's feet. He was not very good at easing someone's anxiety.
They were both on the left side of the bed, while Healer Mayfly was on the right lining up some crystals.
Mayfly was putting green crystals on the boy's body and tapping them with her long spindly fingers. They all lit up and shined for a bright moment. A piece of parchment popped up with a diagnosis.
"He's malnourished, which means he needs some vitamins and Skelegro. He needs new glasses, and he has an unformed horcrux in his scar, but other than that he's fine," she said, reading the parchment with a pair of reading glasses perched on her long nose.
"Why Skelegro?" Vic wanted to know. He didn't know what a horcrux was, and he was more concerned about the Skelegro. It wasn't usually recommended for children.
"His bones are underdeveloped," she explained, not wanting to get into the medical detail.
"Oh," was all he said, still running his hand up and down Harry's arm. He was so going to make those Dursleys pay.
"Can you get rid of the horcrux?" was Arcturus' question. He knew what that was, and he thought Siri… Vic knew vaguely what it was too. He was far more concerned about that.
"Yes," was all she said, as she grabbed a black crystal and placed it on Harry's head. "Don't move," she warned the boy. She moved to the head of the bed and put her hands on both sides of his head and then yelled, "Expellere."
Without further ado, a black mist surrounded the crystal and was sucked into it. There was a muffled scream that startled Harry, but his head was held tight, so it didn't move. The black crystal turned blacker and solidified to a rock.
Harry felt a burst of pain, but other than a tugging motion, he felt nothing else. His eyes were darting everywhere trying to figure out what was going on. He was scared and wanted it to all be over. He felt sludge come from his scar and run down his face.
"Damn," Vic said, reaching to touch the rock.
"Don't touch that," Healer Mayfly said, smacking his hand and grabbing some tongs off the tray. She picked the rock up with the tongs and put it in a lead box. She closed the box and then glared at the foolish man. "We'll dispose of that later," she said. She then took a cloth and wiped up the sludge. She put that in a basin and burned it. "That'll be 5000 galleons," she told Arcturus.
"Sharptooth, pay the woman," the old man said, getting Harry to sit up. "That had better include Harry's potions," he added, glaring at the female goblin. He had forgotten to get the price of treatment up front. Oh well, he would have paid for it anyway.
"It does," she said, taking the chit that would see the gold in the infirmary's account.
"Come, let us leave," Arcturus said, following Sharptooth back to his office. He still needed to get some gold. And to find out where Harry's key was. They needed to set Harry's heir account up too. Their day wasn't quite over yet.