Chapter 6:

The parchment fluttered down before me, its edges curling like ancient secrets. I knew its contents—the weight of destiny pressed against my chest. Master Teller, his eyes as inscrutable as the stars, lifted the parchment. His lips moved silently, deciphering the words etched in ink. When he handed it to me, his touch lingered, a silent promise. "Lord Peverell," he murmured, "please wait here for a little while. I will return soon.." As he vanished from the room, I wondered what awaited me beyond those cryptic lines.

As I gaze upon the parchment, a myriad of questions flood my mind. I am the Lord of House Peverell, that much is certain. But what of this new life? What secrets and new paths lay hidden within these ancient words? With bated breath, I hope for revelations that might emerge from the parchment's cryptic script.

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| Inheritance Test |

Name: Hadrian Ignotus Peverell.

Titles:

* Lord of the Most Ancient and Reverent House of Peverell by Blood and Magic.

* Heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Gryffindor by Magic.

* Heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Tenebris by Blood and Magic.

Innate Magical Abilities:

* Metamorphmagus

* Natural Occlumens

* Wandless Magic

* Affinity with Magical Creatures

* Enhanced Magical Vision

Properties and Vaults:

* Peverell Vaults: (Details regarding access procedures can be found in separate documents)

* Properties:

* Peverell Manor

* Peverell Castle

* Gryffindor Vaults: (Details regarding access procedures can be found in separate documents)

* Properties:

* Gryffindor Estate

* Tenebris Vaults: (Details regarding access procedures can be found in separate documents)

* Properties:

* Tenebris Manor

Family Heirlooms:

* Peverell:

* The Resurrection Stone (Ring): Can only be summoned by the True Master of Death.

* The Elder Wand: Can only be summoned by the True Master of Death.

* The Invisibility Cloak: Can only be summoned by the True Master of Death.

* Gryffindor:

* Godric Gryffindor's Sword: Can only be summoned by the True Heir of Gryffindor.

* Tenebris:

* A Rare Pensieve.

Additional Inheritances:

* The Isle of Lumina: Scotland

* Chamber of the Peverell Heir: Hogwarts

* Godric Gryffindor's Personal Chamber: Hogwarts.

| ------------------------------------- |

As I glanced at the parchment, my name leapt out at me. No shock came, just a quiet acknowledgment. I had known it would be there, altered long before by hands unknown.

I stare down at the parchment, a grin splitting my face. "Just as I thought," I mutter, a thrill coursing through me. "I am the Lord of House Peverell!"

But then my eyes snag on the next line, and a frown creases my brow. Heir to two other houses? One of them being Gryffindor? Confusion clouds my mind. Gryffindor's heir by magic, not blood?

This is getting complicated. And Tenebris... that house is shrouded in mystery. I've never heard about it.

Well, on the bright side, at least now I have seat of three Houses.

my heart pounding with anticipation, my eyes widen with each revelation. "Innate magical abilities..." I stammer, my voice laced with disbelief. "Could I be a Metamorphmagus?"

A whirlwind of questions engulfs me. When did this ability awaken within me? Perhaps Master Teller can shed some light on this enigma.

The next line ignites a spark of excitement. "Natural Occlumens..." I whisper, my voice barely audible. "Does this mean I can shield my thoughts without any training?"

But the following line is the real game-changer. "Wand-less magic..." I read slowly, savoring the words. "So, I can perform magic without a wand?"

"Affinity with Magical Creatures" —this ability seems fascinating and connects me deeply with magical Creatures.

"Enhanced Magical Vision..." I ponder, intrigued by the unknown. "What could this possibly mean?".

I hear the sound of footsteps approaching. Turning around, I see Master Teller with another Goblin.

"Hello, Lord Peverell, my name is Ragnuk, and I am the Director of Gringotts Bank," Ragnuk introduces himself with a formal bow. A sense of curiosity and respect fills me

"HELLO, Mr. Ragnuk, it's a pleasure to meet you."I reply.

I watch as Ragnuk picking up some additional papers that had fallen beside the parchment. He then addresses me, "Lord Peverell, please hand me this parchment." I hand it over, feeling a sense of solemnity. Ragnuk inspects the parchment.

"Well, there are no details here, but there is no doubt that you are Lord Peverell, and also the Heir to Gryffindor and Tenebris."Ragnuk said.

"You will need the Lord and Heir rings, but we only have the Gryffindor and Tenebris rings. For the Peverell, you must go to your family vault as no one else can enter except you, Lord Peverell," Ragnuk informs me. I feel a slight irritation at the formality.

"Please, just call me Harry. I don't like being addressed by my titles so much," I express, seeking a more personal connection.

"If you call me Ragnuk, then Harry it is," he replies.

"Alright, Ragnuk," I agree, a sense of familiarity settling in.

"Grimmok will take you to the vault, Harry, and then we'll talk further," Ragnuk says, pointing towards the master teller named Grimmok. I nod in acknowledgment, feeling a sense of anticipation, and begin to follow Grimmok.

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As We've descended deep into Gringotts, just as Grimmok described, to where the first vaults were constructed. I stand before Vault number 7, its door massive and adorned with runes. "Place your hand upon it, Lord Peverell," Grimmok instructs. I place my hand on the door, and the runes begin to glow, a sense of ancient magic stirring within me. After a few seconds, the door starts to open.

I enter the vault silently, and within seconds, I'm standing before a mountain of gold. Jewelry, gems, and artifacts surround me, but my attention is captured by a floating box. I open it to find a ring and a note. Reading the note, I feel a surge of power as I recite the words, "I, Harry, True Master of Death…" The room vibrates with magic, and suddenly, three objects appear before me, floating in the air.

The cavern seemed to hold its breath as I gazed upon the three legendary objects—the Elder Wand, the Resurrection Stone, and the Invisibility Cloak. My heart raced, fueled by equal parts awe and trepidation. The note's words echoed in my mind, urging me to act.

Summoning all my resolve, I assumed the mantle of the True Master of Death. Not Potter, not Peverell—just Harry. The air thickened, and the feminine voice returned, weaving through the vault's ancient magic. "Finally, you have summoned the Hallows," it whispered. "Master, we shall meet soon."

The shiver that coursed down my spine was more than fear; it was anticipation. The Hallows responded, drawing closer, their energies intertwining with my very essence. With the Hallows pulsing in my chest, a sharp gasp escapes me as the Hallows begin to merge with my being. The pain is immediate, intense, and all-consuming. It feels as if the very essence of the Deathly Hallows is carving itself into my soul. I try to stand firm, to endure, but it's too much. The world spins, and darkness creeps into the edges of my vision. With a final thought of determination, I succumb to the pain and fall into unconsciousness.

**"What's happening to me?"** I scream, the sound tearing from my throat as the pain becomes unbearable. **"I don't understand... please, make it stop!"** But the Hallows are relentless. **"Why is this happening?!"** My voice breaks, the agony overwhelming every sense. The last thing I hear before the darkness claims me is the echo of my own cries, a haunting reminder of the price of power.

The pain escalates, a symphony of torment that drowns out all other sensations. **"AHHH!"** I cry out, my voice raw with suffering. **"I can't bear it... What is this?!"** The echoes of my screams fill the cavern, a chilling testament to the ordeal. The Hallows, now a part of me, exact their toll, and I am powerless to resist. **"Somebody help me... I don't know what's happening!"** But there is no one to hear, no one to ease the burden. As consciousness slips away, my last breath is a tortured scream that fades into the silence of the vault.

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**[Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore's POV]:**

In the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts, I find myself doing something I haven't done in many years. Usually, I delegate all tasks to Minerva, but today, after she finished her other duties, she left to take the new students shopping. "Albus, I'm taking the new first-year students to Diagon Alley, so you'll have to take care of all the work today, as it's your responsibility as the headmaster," she said quite sternly before departing. I was left speechless.

Now, I sit alone in my office, looking over the list of tasks Minerva has left for me. There's an unusual quietness here, a silence that this office has perhaps never known. Yet, there's an unexplained restlessness in my heart, as if something momentous is about to happen. Pushing aside my concerns, I set to work.

The tremors on my desk intensified, and I instinctively reached for my wand—the very same Elder Wand that I had won from Gellert in our duel. But now, it floated before me, aloof, as if I were a stranger to its power. A surge of magic erupted, shaking the entire office as though an invisible tempest had swept through. The portraits of former headmasters stirred, their painted eyes wide with curiosity. Even Fawkes, my loyal phoenix companion, ruffled his feathers in alarm.

The Elder Wand pivoted, pointing resolutely in a particular direction, and then vanished. I stood there, mute and bewildered, unable to fathom what had transpired. The headmasters' portraits bombarded me with questions, but I remained silent, fixated on that mysterious path. What had I witnessed? What force had claimed the Elder Wand?

Emotions churned within me—a mix of awe, trepidation, and a gnawing curiosity. The wand had chosen a new master, and I, Albus Dumbledore, was left to unravel its enigma.

The portraits of former headmasters were abuzz with their own concerns. "What's happening, Albus?" asked Mordicus Egg, his voice echoing the collective unease. "What's going on?"

Their painted eyes turned to me, seeking guidance in a situation where I felt unmoored. Fawkes, sensing the disturbance, let out a loud, sorrowful cry that resonated with the tension in the room.

"Could it be a Descendant of Peverells?" suggested one portrait, the suggestion hanging in the air like a specter from the past.

Mordicus Egg, ever the inquisitive one, added with a hint of disbelief, "Centuries after a Peverell, how could this be?"

I replaced the silent Everard with the more vocal Godric Gryffindor, whose portrait now spoke with a firmness that belied his concern. "Albus, we must consider all possibilities, no matter how improbable."

The weight of their expectations bore down on me. The Elder Wand's loyalty had shifted, and with it, the course of our future. I stood there, the very picture of a leader in doubt, yet resolute in my determination to uncover the truth.

And as my gaze lingered in the direction where the wand had vanished, I couldn't help but hope—for answers, for clarity, and for the courage to face what lay ahead. May the new master of the Elder Wand be a force for good, not driven by a thirst for power, but guided by noble intentions.

[POV END]

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[A/N: Donate Stone Please]