It said a lot that as the summer dragged on that Harry didn’t think about Voldemort all that much. Instead it felt like his body was undergoing metamorphosis, albeit a much darker version, having him waking at odd hours in a cold sweat as his muscles spasmed.
His thoughts were consumed by his dreams, and his dreams came in the form of visions that seemed real. He saw a man that looked almost identical to himself, green eyes and everything - with only slightly longer hair and older clothes that looked to be centuries out of date.
Through his dreams he saw portions of this man’s life, doing so with much confusion at first, until Harry began to understand. The man was Ignotus Peverell, his ancestor that preceded him by literal centuries, old enough to live in a time when muggles knew of magic.
He saw so much. From medieval duels and executions, to the courtly politics of Kings and Queens, along with the betrayals and wars they waged between each other. And more than that, he saw what truly binded Kingdoms and sealed alliances. Harry saw women put on their knees, legacy sealed in seed and often taken by fleeting lust.
He saw the sacking of medieval cities and towns, the looting and raping of their inhabitants. More than that, he saw how the real world worked. He saw the depths that people would go to in order to satiate their base desires, how men would follow their cock and women their cunt, how it was lust that truly ran the world.
Witches and muggles of all types were taken by Ignotus Peverell. From Princesses in magnificent castles to Veela hiding out in their covens. He couldn’t help but watch as the man traveled from town to town, fucking and breeding whoever he liked, leaving a trail of knocked up and satisfied witches and muggle women in the process.
“One thing you need to understand, boy, is that all witches want to be taken. To be used by powerful wizards and bred like they’re supposed to.” Ignotus Peverell had told him in one vision.
“Things don’t work like that anymore.” Harry had tried to argue back, clinging to some of that childlike naivety he tried so desperately to hold on to.
“Of course they do.” The smug voice of his ancestor returned. “You think you’re any different? That witches have changed in your time? They haven’t.”
Memories and images flashed through his mind. He recalled some of the girls on his quidditch team staring at him longer than was proper, of the girls in his various classes eyeing him hungrily. Of the Yule ball, and dozens of witches watching him, ever hopeful that Harry Potter would ask them for a dance.
What if I acted on it? The simple question burned as his manhood throbbed. The whole summer had been like this, a blur of visions and lust. And that wasn’t the only thing, as Harry’s body began to chance too.
It started with that blinding green flash in the third task, which he could only guess was the killing curse. It was like some sort of block had been lifted on his body after that, his muscles thickening and height increasing as he grew stronger by the day.
And that wasn’t to mention his magic, coarse and powerful in a way that was downright dangerous. A sudden flick of his hand could shatter a vase, and a heave of his arms might very well obliterate an entire wall.
And so Harry woke from a vision once again, body covered in sweat and eyes dusty as he clumsily stumbled from his room and into the bathroom. The sun was out and bright, signifying that he had slept till midday.
He turned on the shower, divesting himself of his clothes as the sound of running water met his ears. His cock flopped out of his trousers, already flaccid and desperate for relief, which was only made worse by the stimulating feeling of the shower water against his skin.
He couldn’t help but let his thoughts wander, thinking of some of the pretty girls at school. He thought of some of the older Slytherin witches, prim and proper with those arrogant expressions. He thought of the French girls from Beauxbatons from last year, of Fleur Delacour and that outfit she wore in the second task, along with that quick kiss she gave him. He even thought of Hermione, the way she would bite her lip sometimes when he was around.
“Damn.” His hand ran up and down the length of his now erect cock. No longer soft and manageable but absolutely monstrous in size. That was something that had changed too since the summer started, his manhood seemingly growing by the day since the end of the third task.
The shower suddenly turned cold and Harry cursed, flipping the water off and stepping out. He angled his length down at the toilet bowl, pushing a hand against the wall for stability as he jacked off. He felt his balls stirring, heavy cream traveling through his shaft as he imagined taking every last witch who eyed him.
His relief finally came then as his cock gave a great lurch before erupting. Glob after thick glob of seed filled the bowl nearly to the brim, until he flushed it down and took a few deep breaths to calm his racing heart.
He knew it was wrong to do this, to objectify witches - some of them being his friends - and to want nothing more than to make them his whores. Hermione, Angelina, Katie, Fleur… So many of them could easily be taken by him with the slightest bit of effort.
Just then the door slammed open, his fat cousin walking in with an irritated expression. “What’s taking so long-”
Dudley’s gaze drifted down then, and his cousin blanched at the sight of his intimidating form, tripping over his own two feet in his haste to shut the door and escape.
Before, such an interaction would’ve embarrassed him, but now Harry felt simply irritated. The fat slob that was his muggle cousin was now dealing with someone in a different league entirely, an apex predator and centennial wizard who could kill him in an instant - if Harry so wished.
What am I still doing here? That question suddenly rose to mind, as he recalled all the times he had been aggravated by the Dursleys.
The Potters had to have estates or more things for him to inherit that he simply didn’t know about. That particular question had come unbidden in the previous weeks, and had rampaged through his mind like an incensed hippogriff ever since.
Next thing Harry knew, he had taken action. A letter to Gringotts, as well as one to Sirius to ask some questions. Correspondence took place and he ended up having an appointment scheduled with the Goblins that very well might change his life.
And so he straightened his hair, or at least tried to. Some of Dudley’s nicer hand-me-downs were put on - until he decided to pickup some new robes while he was out, before it was finally time to leave.
He walked out of the Dursley home and to the road with his wand already in hand, his mind focused solely on reaching Diagon Alley and changing his fortune in life.
“Just where do you think you’re going?” A voice suddenly asked, making Harry stop in place at the edge of the road.
He turned to face a woman with long, straight pink hair, wearing a heavy red trenchcoat that shined under the summer sun. Strangely enough, she didn’t look overheated in the least despite her heavy choice of clothing, and that was when he realized she was an auror and her robes were likely enchanted.
She must be watching me. Harry was not fully clueless, and could feel the unseen eyes on the back of his head when he knew he wasn’t alone. Now he had confirmation that he was being watched.
The only problem was that he thought it was Dumbledore’s people watching him, yet the woman in front of him was auror. That meant she worked for the Ministry - and by extension, Fudge - who wasn’t Harry’s biggest fan at the moment.
“Did the Minister send you, or Dumbledore?” He asked calmly.
Her confidence evaporated, replaced by some panic. “What? Wait, how did you know Dumbledore sent me?”
“Dumbledore then.” He nodded to himself, as the woman blushed at her screw-up.
“Hey! That’s not-” She bit her tongue, stopping herself mid sentence. “Just answer my original question!”
He didn’t immediately respond, instead letting his eyes roam over her. He could immediately tell she was fit, although beyond that it was hard to study her body with the heavy auror coat covering it. That said, he could see a hint of her fit legs and the way her big bum pushed out her outfit, which was helped by the way her coat’s belt hugged her waist. It was noticeable she had an hourglass body, as the coat bulged out at her breasts to signal that they were quite sizeable.
As for her increasingly blushing face - which was made worse by his roaming gaze - it was heart-shaped and had an aristocratic look to it that he found appealing.
“I’m going to Diagon Alley.” He eventually answered. “And I’m guessing you would like to join me?”
“Did you just ask me on a date?” She blurted out, the redness spreading from her cheeks to cover most of her face.
“No.” He snorted, which seemed to make her mad for some reason. “I asked because Dumbledore sent you here to spy on me, so it would make sense you would come with me to shop.”
“Oh.” Her shoulders slumped. “Wait, how did you know about that?”
“Because you told me, remember?” He grinned with some amusement. “Also, not everyone who spied on me this summer has been overly subtle.”
“Damn, I thought you didn’t know!” She exclaimed. “Don’t tell me it was because Fletcher was drunk? Or that Arthur got distracted by the muggle appliances again?”
Harry mentally noted that a man named Fletcher along with Ron’s father were watching him. “No idea. Also, I never saw other people, you just confirmed that you weren’t alone in spying on me.”
The pink auror froze like a deer in the headlights. “S-Stop doing that!”
He grinned. “Why? You’re just too easy.”
The woman grumbled to herself, and looked about ready to give him a verbal lashing. But that was when the Knight Bus appeared right next to them.
“Huh? Wait, when did you…”
“While we were talking.” He had pointed his wand discreetly towards the road, calling the bus as they spoke. “Now you just need to decide if you wanna come with me or not.”
“Damn you, Potter.” He heard her muttering about ‘irritating green-eyed boys’ as he boarded the bus and paid for a trip to Diagon Alley, with her following behind him. “And this isn’t a date, just so you know!”
The pinkette soon joined him, sitting right next to his seat as the bus rocketed away. She folded her arms under her impressive bust, seemingly undecided if she should give him the silent treatment or scold him, eventually settling on a glare.
“You know, you never gave me your name.”
“What?”
“Your name. I know you’re an auror, it’s just that we’ve never met before.” He said casually. “You know who I am, I just don’t know you.”
She raised her chin. “It’s Tonks.”
“Is that a forename or surname?”
Her eye twitched. “Does it matter?”
“Just wanted to know the witch spying on me better.” He shrugged.
She sighed. “Nymphadora Tonks.”
That really is a bad name. He couldn’t help but think, realizing her dilemma. “Mind if I call you Dora then?”
She seemed to think it over, eyeing him with a seriousness he hadn’t seen until that moment. “That’s fine.”
/////
It was when Harry was halfway up the marble steps to Gringotts’ entrance that he paused and looked back to Tonks, who had been shadowing him up until that point.
Entering the alley through the Leaky Cauldron, Harry had only made a quick stop for new robes before heading to the bank for his scheduled appointment. That said, he wanted to keep it secret, and do what he could to keep Dumbledore from finding anything out, which meant losing his tail.
“I need to get some gold and check up on my accounts.” He signaled for Dora to stay behind. “You can always go get a drink or something to stay busy.”
“I can buy some of your school supplies while you’re in there.” She offered him.
“Thanks, and I will pay you back when I’m done.” He nodded in gratitude, before an odd thought struck him. “Could you also get me a copy of the three brothers by chance?”
She gave him a strange look. “That old kid’s story? Mum used to love it, read it all the time when I was a child.”
“Great.” He said pleasantly. “And do take your time. See you in a bit, Dora.”
He didn’t miss the way she stumbled and clumsily fell at the edge of the steps from the use of her nickname before quickly getting back up. Sadly, Harry was already inside the bank when Nymphadora Tonks looked back towards him with emotion rife within her eyes.
The main thoroughfare through Gringotts was exactly how he remembered, filled with waiting wizards and Goblins behind their high counters conducting business. However, unlike before, Harry did not go to one of the tellers, instead taking a left down one of the secondary halls and into a part of the bank that handled more discreet matters rather than normal transactions.
The door he eventually arrived at for his appointment was ornate, labeled with the name of the goblin who had been sending him frequent letters for the past month. Harry opened it to find his account manager waiting for him, pointed fingers resting on his desk with an air of patience that suggested he had been doing this for a very long time.
“Mr. Potter.” Said the goblin he had been appointed to meet with, named Arkjaw.
“Arkjaw, thank you for meeting with me.” He sat down.
A table sat between them in an ornate room made of wood and marble, along with large windows that looked down over the alley. This was where the more important clients were handled by the Goblins, those like him who would inherit enough gold to theoretically crash the wizarding economy.
Arkjaw produced a file from below his desk and set it on the table with deliberate unhaste, and Harry had a feeling he would be signing many documents that day.
“You requested a full estate consultation.” Arkjaw stated. “Account consolidation, vault access review, and Wizengamot standing assessment. House Potter, House Black, and… a third matter. Which we will come to.”
He only nodded.
“House Potter first, as it is the most straightforward.” Arkjaw opened the ledger. “The Potter accounts have been in a managed trust since your parents deaths. The trust dissolves upon your formal claiming of the lordship, and the three vaults will transfer to your sole authority at that point. The Wizengamot seat has been vacant since your father’s death, and it is yours upon claiming.”
“What are the three vaults in question? And what’s the total account value?”
“One of them was a primary vault used by your father, along with a secondary one held by Lily Evans Potter which is the only one you have accessed so far. The final one was an archival vault used to store artifacts after the attack on Potter Manor in 1977. As for the total value…” Arkjaw read through the documents before estimating a figure.
Harry had been expecting something substantial, yet even his expectations paled in comparison to how wealthy the Potters truly were.
He signed the necessary paperwork with a blood quill, before sitting through a boring overview of his parents’ estate and investments. It was only once that was over that Arkjaw brought in a new stack of paperwork, appearing older in age and much heavier.
“You received Lord Black’s letter of designation.” Arkjaw referenced the news of Sirius making him his heir. “A designation that is legally sound under goblin law and wizarding custom. Sirius Orion Black named you heir of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black by witnessed letter, registered with Gringotts at the time of writing. However, this emergency provision used by Sirius Black has complications, especially in the matter of progeny…”
His head tilted in confusion. “Tell me more.”
“House Black’s charter requires its heir to have sufficient connection through blood to House Black. While your grandmother, Dorea Potter, was a former member of House Black, you still fail to meet the required degree of blood relation to fully become Lord Black.”
His stomach did a flip, and Harry struggled not to visibly react. “Is there no solution to this?”
“There is one.” Arkjaw eyed him. “After thoroughly reviewing the charter, I have found that to consolidate lineage, the claimant must formalize a marriage contract with a witch carrying sufficient Black family blood, to be completed within the claiming year. Since Sirius Black designated you as heir last month, you have eleven months remaining to complete this.”
The old Harry would’ve been on his feet in panic at that revelation, but in that moment he remained completely composed. If anything, he found it oddly ironic that this was his fate after seeing so many marriage contracts in his visions about Ignotus.
“For the witch, what would having ‘sufficient blood’ entail?” He inquired.
“The matter is complicated to say the least, either having a parent that was once a member of House Black, or enough familial ancestors that were.” Arkjaw produced a branching chart of names that made up the complicated Black family tree which went back centuries. Just a brief look at it was enough to give him a headache. “There are several viable candidates currently alive and unmarried, I have prepared a preliminary list. But there are likely more.”
“I’ll be taking this with me.”
“Of course.” The goblin nodded and moved on without pause. “The Black vaults include five primary, three subsidiary, and an archive vault. The Wizengamot seat has been held by a proxy since Lord Black’s incarceration. Upon claiming, it reverts to your authority.”
He went through the lengthy process of signing the necessary documents with a blood quill, ensuring his status as the next Lord of House Black. As for how he would find a witch with sufficient Black blood to marry… Harry would worry about that later.
Soon Arkjaw closed the ledger, putting the documents away before pulling out a bowl of all things. It looked old and sculpted by hand out of ancient dark stone, filled with water. A small silver knife was then placed next to the bowl in front of him on the table.
“You requested an inheritance test.” Arkjaw stated. “Your letters did not specify for which line when making the appointment, which is unusual. Clients who decline to specify typically have one of two reasons. Either they are either uncertain whether they have a claim, or they are certain and do not wish to create a record of the enquiry before the test is completed.”
He said nothing in response, as the goblin regarded him closely. Wordlessly, Harry took the blade and drew it across his left palm, letting a smidge of blood fall into the bowl below.
The blood dripped into the war before the liquid changed, becoming red then black, a symbol of a triangle with a circle and wand inside appearing as they both watched on. He knew how inheritance tests worked as he did his research beforehand, and as such felt a weight seemingly lift from his shoulders to know it had worked.
This was validation that his visions were real, not delusions caused from madness. More than that, it meant he had more familial ancestry than he previously believed.
“I now understand your reasons for discretion.” Arkjaw suddenly said, making Harry’s gaze snap to him. The goblin looked as if he was struggling to keep his eyes inside his skull, staring at him in wonder. “More than ninety percent of inheritance tests fail, and those that pass seldomly achieve one as esteemed as this…”
He hummed. “Peverell then?”
“The Peverell line is one of the oldest claims we still hold documentation for.” Arkjaw nodded in confirmation. “Its seat on the Wizengamot remains unclaimed, being one of the seven founding seats, and one of the four great Houses amongst their number that remains vacant.”
“What else can you tell me?”
The goblin then left to retrieve an older set of records, returning with parchment that was covered in dust and cobwebs that he had to clean off in order to read. “The most recent member of House Peverell on record was Edmund Peverell, four centuries ago. He was able to succeed through a claiming, with the member before him being only a century before… Sadly, most of House Peverell existed before Gringotts was properly established.”
“Interesting.” Harry had seen enough in his visions to know the Peverells lived long before most of the institutions in Britain were even founded. It was hardly surprising that Gringotts wasn’t around back then, and House Peverell’s place in the Wizengamot was merely a symbolic post incorporated from the preceding Wizarding Council in the time of King Arthur and Merlin.
Arkjaw looked through the ledgers before he finally spoke again. “There are three vaults, all archival, established by the few descendants through the centuries. The contents have not been inventoried. Ever. ”
“Is that unusual?”
“Yes.” The goblin nodded. “Although not unexpected since the seat has been vacant for so long. One of the vaults is now accessible to yourself, being the heir, with the others only accessible to the Lord Peverell. However, I am unsure if you will be allowed to fully claim the Lordship position.”
Harry frowned. “Why?”
“The Peverell lordship carries a condition that predates most contractual frameworks in wizarding Britain. It is an archaic requirement. But it is binding, and it is registered, and it does not yield to more recent legal interpretation.”
“Tell me.” It seemed that the account manager was learning about this for the first time as well, reading through and deciphering the ancient text as he watched on.
“The Peverell lordship requires the Lord to ensure continuation of the line within a designated period from the point of claiming.” Arkjaw looked at him directly. “The requirement is not marriage per se, but rather a binding union that is documented with the intent to reproduce. After that, three years is given to produce an adequate issue.”
“How generous.” He muttered quietly.
“Additionally, the contract of union for Peverell claiming carries no blood restriction. Unlike the Black provision, there is no lineage requirement for the witch. The requirement is the contract’s formal validity and the intent to produce magical issue.”
Harry sat with this for a long moment, trying not to get consumed by the revelations. He knew the best way to go about it was to take things slow, and not immediately panic about potentially losing his inheritance if he didn’t marry sometime soon. “If that is all, I’d like to visit House Potter’s primary vault before I leave.”
The goblin grinned. “I did not expect you to have such restraint.”
He snorted, knowing the only reason he wasn’t off to visit the Black and Peverell vaults was because Tonks was waiting for him. The woman was an auror, and he didn’t want her to catch him if he decided to take anything of importance home.
Finding an ancient book in those vaults on what would undoubtedly be considered ‘dark’ magic would simply be too tempting for Harry. And so he silently vowed to come back alone at a later date, and definitely before he left for Hogwarts.
“Before I go,” He decided to ask about something that had been bothering him. “Is there any way to spend galleons without carrying them around?”
He was now the muggle equivalent of a billionaire, yet it seemed odd that the only way to spend that money was by carrying it around. Muggles had credit cards after all, so it seemed odd that wizards wouldn’t have something similar.
“You can always give out your routing card to shops that work with Gringotts.” Arkjaw answered.
He hummed. “And what’s the catch?”
The goblin gave a toothy grin. “An additional fourteen percent of what you spend is taken as payment.”
In other words, it was more of a status symbol to simply hand over your account details to whatever shop you purchased at rather than going through the irritating process of counting knuts. It would show that you were simply so rich that you could care less about the galleons you spent.
He could see why someone like Malfoy would do it, being desperate to flaunt his wealth even in the smallest ways possible. But for now, Harry would be content to carry his own gold.
/////
“What took you so long?” Was the first thing Tonks asked him when he walked out of Gringotts.
The pink-haired auror sat on the granite steps with a clump of bags at her side. He had obviously taken longer than she expected, and as such she had bought most of the supplies he needed before his return to Hogwarts.
“I haven’t been to Gringotts in a while, and they wanted me to look over some stuff.” He wasn’t completely lying when he said that, just leaving out a lot of details. “You know, you didn’t have to come with me anyways.”
“The others would have my head if I didn’t.” She said. “Besides, better being here than back in that muggle suburb.”
“Suit yourself.” His stomach gave a growl then, as Harry paused. “How about we get something to eat? I’ll pay.”
“A free meal sounds good to me.”
He smiled, remembering her words from earlier. “Looks like it’s a date after all.”
Disclaimer: All Characters are over the Age of 18
A/N: Decided to put this story out, and hope you enjoy the beginning. It will probably be the biggest Harry x multi I’ve done, and use the marriage contract and Lordship tropes heavily.
Also, for those who wanted it, Tonks x Harry is finally happening, albeit Tonks is changed somewhat from canon. Expect Narcissa next Chapter, and Greengrass soon after that.