chapter 14

After Rita and Bozo left Hogwarts and the Chamber of Secrets to work on their story, and with Harry and Hermione off on their own pursuits, Gilderoy sauntered up Diagon Alley at midmorning to Gringotts, nodding to his many fans, basking in the glory that was his due. All the attention still made Harry nervous, of course, but not nearly as much as it used to. He knew and understood that he would never be "just another face in the crowd." On the other hand, it was nice to know that so many people cared about him. Yeah, that could change quickly, but as long as he took the right measures in advance, it would never happen. He had to pace himself and the revelations he made — not too much too fast. And this year was turning into quite the goldmine of breaking news stories that featured him!

His future security was well and truly assured by things that he had done this year, that were his accomplishments, and not life stories stolen from others. In that vein, Fleecem, Cheatem, and Beatem had started approaching all the people he had wronged and begun setting things right. The villager who had provided the basis for Wanderings with Werewolves found himself the recipient of a "lost" cousin's bequest that significantly improved his home and life, providing a solid old-age security that had been noticeably lacking. He was the richest person in his village and would never again know want. He also received a modest sack of galleons from Lockhart thanking him for his assistance in tracking down the Werewolf. The man would have nothing to say but praise for Lockhart when someone finally tracked him down and asked some questions.

The woman who had inspired Holidays with Hags had a similar bequest, including providing for schooling for her children, and grandchildren, to either Hogwarts or university, whichever was applicable. And a sack of Galleons, as well as a personally autographed complete set of Lockhart's books.

Gilderoy could easily retire the rest of his debts to those he had harmed with only a small portion of the funds looted from the Malfoys. His next two books, Burrowing with a Basilisk and Restraining a Rat, would be best-sellers and easily replace those funds. And push him up the list into the top five richest Wizards in England.

And the revenue from the Basilisk ingredients would only add to his wealth and prestige.

As he entered the bank, a Goblin looked up from his desk and made a motion to another. Before Gilderoy could even get to a counter a Goblin came up to him. "Mr. Lockhart," he said, before turning on his heel and briskly leading the Wizard through a door at the back of the bank and to a small room. "Would you like tea?" the Goblin asked cordially.

"Ah, yes, please."

Harry/Gilderoy looked around. Instead of a sparse stone room, this one was richly appointed in wood with animals-skin rugs underneath well-crafted tables and chairs. His last visit, while nice, hadn't been nearly as pleasant. The Goblins had kept to their reputation as insulting and touchy little bastards that time. But this?

Interesting how simply having ten or so tons of galleons changed their attitude. Or was it the sneaky and underhanded way he had acquired those galleons? It was difficult to tell which they respected more.

He had no sooner sat than a Goblin hurried in with a tray and set the table beside Harry/Gilderoy with cups, kettle, and a plate of biscuits.

Definitely not your ordinary Goblin approach to business.

The Goblin hadn't even reached the door to leave before another came in.

"Mr. Lockhart," said the Goblin as he came over. "I am Ragnurk, your account manager. What can Gringotts do for you today?"

"Ragnurk, my friend!" — no, he wasn't. No Wizard was a friend to the Goblins, according to them — and he hadn't known he had an account manager. "I need a team of professionals to render a rather large magical animal into potion ingredients."

"What kind, how large?" The Goblin sat and pulled a quill and roll of parchment from his pocket.

Harry squashed the Gilderoy urge to wax poetic. The Goblins preferred to get straight to business, no dilly-dallying around for them.

"A Basilisk. Sixty feet plus. Dead. Killed yesterday morning. Very little damage."

The Goblin stared at him. "A Basilisk." He stared a bit more. "Sixty-foot." He frowned. "How killed?"

Gilderoy beamed happily, "I shan't bore you with the full story, but I finished by giving it a sword thrust through the upper palate of the mouth into the brain."

The Goblin sat back in his chair. "Gringotts does not take kindly to jokesters or pranksters."

"I can provide a memory of the creature if you have a pensieve."

It took less than five minutes to verify his story. Just a short montage of the snake chasing him — no signs of the roosters! — him running with the sword, him pulling the sword out of the snake's mouth, him staring at the dead snake from a distance.

The Goblin stared almost respectfully at Lockhart.

"We can have a team assembled shortly. The split will be fifty-fifty."

Harry laughed delightedly. The haggling was long, but ended with a much better eighty-twenty split. Harry would keep half the skin, three ounces of venom, a quart of blood, five of the teeth (not venom fangs) and a single three-ounce vial of each of the other parts of the snake used in potions. All based on his estimate of sixty feet. Shorter would decrease his portions, longer would not change them. The estimate on the value of the snake at today's prices was well over one million galleons. Wow! That alone, when added to his current balance, made him the richest Wizard in the Kingdom.

By the time they finished, the team was ready and Gilderoy showed them the portkey destination via pensieve. They appeared directly in The Chamber of Secrets.

He left the experts to their job and spent some time talking with Myrtle before heading off to a late dinner. The Goblins had said they should be finished by dawn. The Castle's protective enchantments did not extend to where the Chamber lay under the lake, and thus the Goblins could freely portkey back and forth as they needed during the night.

Gilderoy was a bit surprised that he managed to pull off the operation without any reaction from the Headmaster.

Saying that there was no purpose to having the professors and students so widely separated when there were so few around, the Headmaster had moved the House tables to sides and placed a single round table in the Great Hall yesterday. The students straggled in — there were only six total — and joined Gilderoy, McGonagall, and Flitwick for dinner. Snape was eating in his office, the blue-eyed blonde Wizard presumed. The other professors were either with family or out shopping for presents.

The Wizard was still amazed that no one had noticed either Rita or the Goblins' presence on school grounds. Dumbledore must truly believe in the effectiveness of the school's protective enchantments to keep dangerous creatures, both monsters and human, from the school. How that fit with the Troll and Quirrell-mort last year was an interesting question. Had the Headmaster disabled the protections? If so, that easily explained why he had not noticed Gilderoy's extra-curricular activities. Nor noticed so many of the things that had gone wrong in Harry's previous life.

And proved the old Wizard had little to no regard for the safety of his students.

So much of what Dumbledore had done left Harry mystified. Was he "testing" Harry? Or was he just so sure of himself that it never occurred to him that he might be wrong? The first was infuriating, the last astoundingly stupid.

Harry still didn't understand why Dumbledore had hired Lockhart. Was the Headmaster so detached from reality that he never realized the Wizard's incompetence? Harry knew that the Headmaster regularly skimmed the minds of his students — surely he had done the same to the prospective D.A.D.A. professor. Or was he more concerned with "outing" Gilderoy as a fraud than he was about the making sure the students received an education?

In either case, the Headmaster was doing a severe disservice to his students, and neglecting his obligations as a Headmaster. Was Dumbledore so caught up in his schemes for "the greater good" that he didn't see the damage he was inflicting on the Wizards and Witches entrusted to his care? Was the old Wizard senile? Stupid? Or did he simply not care about anything except his schemes?

Just as Harry and Hermione were standing to leave, Gilderoy stood as well, saying, "Mr. Potter, you need a new wardrobe. One that befits your status as the Heir to an important House. I can't believe your guardians have allowed you to dress the way you do. It is an affront to the dignity of your parents and Godfather." Harry was dressed in his regular clothes, no school robes during the hols!

Harry and Hermione stared at him in astonishment.

"So, this afternoon, I shall take you to get proper attire." He swept aside their objections, and imperiously led them outside and on to Hogsmeade.

"Sir," Harry tried to object once again, "You don't need to do this."

"Nonsense, my boy, as your Professor it grieves me to no end that you disrespect your parents so much by what you wear."

Harry glared at the professor. Hermione just watched and listened wide-eyed.

"You are the fourth richest Wizard in all of England, and to dress the way you do is simply shameful," the adult stated. Malfoy used to be third until Lockhart had raided his vault so thoroughly. Lockhart was tenth, now, but when the Basilisk paid off he would move Harry to fifth. And he was tenth instead of higher because of the Goblin fees he had agreed to pay in acquiring Malfoy's fortune and properties. Not to mention the galleons spent paying off his former story sources.

The Potters hadn't been that rich in 1991, but ten years of letting their investments grow without any silly chicanery of trying to boost earnings, while making minimal expenditures for upkeep, had seen their fortune grow considerably. Malfoy would have been second, but he had spent considerable sums in bribes over the last decade.

Both kids had stopped and were staring at him in shock, mouths open. Gilderoy turned to face them. "Surely your guardians told you this, Mr. Potter? If your Muggle guardians did not, then your Magical guardian had to have done so. To fail to do so would be the rankest abandonment of his or her duties I can imagine." He stopped and stared at the boy.

"Rich?" Harry managed to squeak out.

"Yes. Of course. The Potter House is a very old line and your mother's investments have only increased your vaults."

"Vaults?" ventured Hermione, swallowing.

Gilderoy adopted a mien of astonishment. "Mr. Potter, we will fix this right now," he said commandingly.

He marched them straight to The Three Broomsticks' floo. Moments later, they were walking into Madam Malkin's. The two students were in a state of shock.

"Good afternoon, Madam," Gilderoy greeted the proprietor. "Mr. Potter, here, needs a full kit, from underwear to dress robes. Assume he lost everything in an accident at school and only has the clothes he is wearing. Which you will burn when we are done."

The surprised Witch stared at them.

"For right now, prepare him one set of dress robes with the Potter House crest on them. We have an important meeting in a few minutes, so time is of the essence. For the young Witch with us, do the same," Gilderoy continued.

Hermione was staring at him her mouth open in surprise. "Me?" She squeaked out.

"She doesn't have a House, she is a Muggle-born, so put the Potter House crest on her robes as her protector." He reached into his robes and pulled out a small bag. He set it on the counter and pulled out a wallet, removing a small card from it and handing it to the shopkeeper. "Put everything on this," he concluded.

She stared at the card, swallowed, then curtsied. "Immediately, Mr. Lockhart." She turned and called to another clerk, "Miss Watson, call in Miss Likitt and Miss Softbottom, then help me here." She turned to Harry, "Please stand here, sir," she said, pointing at a fitting platform. "And if you would stand there, Miss," she pointed at a second platform. Both children protested but complied when they saw that their professor would not be deterred.

Mrs. Malkin tisk-tisked when she saw the shabby clothes Harry was wearing, and he blushed, embarrassed. Gilderoy could see that Hermione was surprised at just how shoddy the boy's clothes were. In a remarkably short time, both were wearing new black semi-formal robes.

"Excellent!" declared Gilderoy. "Purchase an apartment trunk for each of them; bedroom, kitchen with dining nook, bathroom, closet, and second room with a library. Make sure they are self-shrinking and restoring, with featherweight charm and the Hogwarts' multi-person lockout feature."

He faced the two students, who were bewildered by what was happening. "That means, only one person can be in the trunk at a time while the trunk is at Hogwarts. I know, I know," he said smiling, waving his hands in front of himself in a placating manner, "It ruins your fun — no private snogging — you'll have to still rely on Hogwarts' broom closets." He laughed jovially.

Hermione squeaked again. Harry looked stunned.

He turned his attention back to Madam Malkin. "Now, then, Madam," he said while staring at Harry, "Mr. Potter has lovely green eyes, so I think wearing plum and purple, will make them appear more vibrant. Any shade from rich true purple to misty lavender will work well. Also, a deep wine colour, red-based claret or true burgundy would work. The blue and red undertones in those colours will bring attention to his green eyes." The witch was taking notes.

"I would suggest a range of greens. Green hues intensify the colour of his eyes. Sage, olive, mossy green or dark bottle green to add depth to his eye colour. I think we would like the effect of pear or any green with a slightly yellow base or a clear grassy green." Both students were in listening, blinking, never realizing that one had to be very good at colour coordinating when one is always in the eyes of the public. It had taken Gilderoy years of study to understand how to put it all together. True, he had concentrated on his own needs, but he had to understand how the other colours related to each other as well.

"Basic black always has its place," he continued, "and Mr. Potter's green eyes will positively glow with classic black. Navy is an equally flattering neutral colour, but we want to stay away from washed-out blues and bland beiges." He stared a bit more at the boy, before nodding. "Yes, I think that's what we should go with. His hair, being black, shan't affect those choices." He looked at the woman. "I expect a dozen pre-arranged sets each for summer, fall, winter, and spring." He smiled widely. "He's a boy, no colour coordination sense at all, you know." The shopkeeper nodded while writing.

He turned to face Hermione. She stared back and swallowed, worried about what he would say about her.

"Blue hues — from blueberry and navy to robin's egg and turquoise," he said. "They are complementary to her brown eyes and hair. Don't be timid, jewel-toned cobalts and soft denim colours — the blues will make her eyes stand out as the focus of her face. Get her several blue-jeans in those colours — if you don't know what blue-jeans are, ask a Muggle-born."

"Also, true reds and warm oranges will complement her dark eyes. As will light greens and clear yellows. Medium pinks and lighter blush colours would be extremely flattering, too. A pastel palette is always a pretty contrast to brown eyes." He stopped a moment to consider.

"Black is not a good option. I think cinnamon or a rich taupe, instead. Those neutrals are wardrobe basics paired with other flattering colours. No dark browns, choose creamier colours reminiscent of coffee with a generous dash of milk. Khaki colours would work, as will olives and mossy greens. White is always flattering and will make her eyes appear even darker in contrast, include a dozen blouses and dresses. Warm gold puts sparkle in brown eyes and is always an excellent choice, I believe.

"Lighten up the purple tones and opt for a misty lavender, plum or soft raspberry, I think. A reddish orange is a bold choice — softer versions such as warm peach or apricot would be good as well.

"They are a cute couple, so please try to coordinate their colours with each other." This time Hermione merely bushed.

He sighed. This was going to be an expensive shopping expedition. "Just provide the basics on the underwear. I'm sure Miss Granger would like to make her own choices in cut and style to please her Wizard." The Wizard and Witch in question both pinked in embarrassment, with Hermione's face moving more to bright red.

"She'll also need a dozen sets of slacks, skirts, blouses, and dresses, for each season as well. Arrange them as sets." The saleswitch gave a quick, "uh huh," of understanding as she continued her notes. "Add permanent growth adjustment, cleanliness, and water-resistant runes to everything," he added. "You shouldn't need to replace these for a decade, at least," he said to the two students.

"When everything is complete, put it in the trunks and owl them back to Hogwarts."

Dressed in brand new clothes and semi-dress robes for the first time he could remember, Harry looked slightly uncomfortable as they headed for Gringotts. Hermione looked splendid in her new robes, as well.

"Don't worry, Mr. Potter. You can easily repay me for these purchases at a later date," he said consolingly. "Miss Granger, as Mr. Potter's protectorate, it is within his responsibilities to ensure you are properly attired and equipped at all times. These purchases fall within that purview." She looked as if she were about to object. "Miss Granger," he stopped in the street, flicked his wand to erect a muffling enchantment, and addressed her directly. "This is not a game. You are a Muggle-born and many consider you a third-class citizen, at best, and barely one-step above magical beasts. That crest on your robes tells them that if they do not treat you as a Pure-blood, they will offend Potter House and will have to defend themselves accordingly. The smart ones will notice and act accordingly. The stupid ones will end up in court at best, or dead at worst." He smirked and looked over at the entrance to Gringotts. "And I think you will find that there are other perks to it as well." He looked at her, smiling. She had never seen such fine robes before.

He was so used to the way his Hermione looked that he hadn't really looked at the thirteen-year old Witch in front of him. Her teeth. He had forgotten about her teeth. Her front teeth were longer than the rest and even with her mouth closed you could see the front two sticking over her lip in a slight over-bite.

He sighed and pulled out his wand. He crouched in front of her. "Go like this," he bared his teeth at her in a parody of a smile.

Uncertainly, she did as he asked.

He ordered, "Don't move!" And cast a quick charm.

Her eyes grew wide as she felt her teeth move. After only a few seconds, he had perfectly aligned her teeth.

"Don't move," he repeated as he cast a second spell giving her a smile as beautiful as his own, removing their minor imperfections and making them as white as Muggle writing paper. He didn't add the sparkle charm he normally used, but now the little witch had a physically perfect smile.

"There now, you have a beautiful smile," he said standing back up. "We'll fix your hair another time. I don't know why your parents didn't fix those teeth ages ago. Such a simple thing to achieve such splendid results. You should look up cosmetic charms in the library, such simple things yet they yield such dramatic results."

He cancelled the spell around them and headed to the bank. Hermione had a very introspective look on her face as they walked. And she kept running her tongue over her teeth.

Again, as they cleared the doors, a Goblin hurried over to Lockhart and bowed before leading them through a door at the back and to an office. Like last time, the room had chairs, a table, and credenza against a wall with a chair nearby. This time there was already a tea set in place. They settled themselves, the kids looking uncomfortable.

"Mr. Potter, Miss Granger," Gilderoy said. "Always, always, be polite to Goblins. They will never acknowledge it, they will never reciprocate it, but it does make a difference in their attitude. They do not believe in small talk. Always, always, get right to the point. I made mistakes years in the past and I am still recovering from them. Observe and learn. Do not pretend to know something, admit your ignorance where necessary."

Hermione and Harry nodded their understanding.

At that moment, two Goblins came in at the same. The first was Ragnurk, Gilderoy's account manager and the second was a flunky carrying a plate of biscuits.

"Ah, Ragnurk! A pleasure to see you." Gilderoy stood and bowed. "I have a couple of problems for you."

The Goblin grunted and sat in the chair behind the desk. Gilderoy resumed his seat.

"First," he waved at the boy, "Mr. Potter's guardian has never told him anything of Potter House, his responsibilities, or his vaults at this fine establishment. He has never received any communications from Gringotts, nor has his guardian sent any on to him. I suspect his owls have been intercepted or redirected. He would also like to file his Will." Gilderoy sat back to wait for the fireworks.

He was not disappointed. While he did not speak the language, it was still quite easy to pick out the profanity that poured forth. Both children listened in wide-eyed amazement, and not a little fright.

The Goblin screamed something and the door to the room popped open. They didn't understand what he said, but the door closed quickly. The Goblin started writing furiously on a parchment he had removed from the credenza. When he finished, he snapped his fingers and the parchment disappeared.

Gilderoy said, "Second, Miss Granger, here," he indicated her by nodding in her direction, "needs to have a Heritage Search. I think she may have an ancestor's Vault."

Ragnurk stared at the two of them a moment, then smiled, a rather gruesome sight considering the number of sharp pointy teeth he revealed. He pulled out a small parchment and wrote something on it. He snapped his fingers and it, too, was on its way.

Moments later an elderly Goblin came in carrying a rather large book and several files.

"Gutslasher is the Potter House account manager," the Ragnurk. He pointed his chin at the boy. "That is Mr. Potter. He has never received any of our communications, nor does he know anything of his estate."

This engendered a goodly bit more of Goblin swearing. Gilderoy leaned over to Harry and quietly said, out of the corner of his mouth, "I hope you're taking notes."

The boy gave him a startled look that slowly slid into a shy smile.

Once the profanity stopped, Gilderoy said to Harry and Hermione, "The Goblins will do a paternity test, first, to confirm that Mr. Potter is truly the son of James and Lily Potter." Gutslasher pulled a parchment from one of the folders, after he set everything on the table, and muttered a few words over it.

"Mr. Potter," Gilderoy said as the Goblin was working. "You will need to sign your name on this parchment using a 'Blood Quill.' It will draw blood from your hand as you write. It will sting slightly, but that is all. Blood Quills are restricted to use by Goblins and with certain Wizarding contracts."

Hermione watched closely as the little Wizard took the proffered quill from Ragnurk and carefully wrote his full name, Harry James Potter. The boy did well, barely winching at the sting in his hand as he wrote. No sooner did he finish than the names of his parents, James and Lily appeared, followed by his grandparents, Fleamont and Euphemia Potter on one side and Graham and Denise Evans on the other.

The elderly Goblin looked at the parchment, nodded, and added it to a folder tucked inside the enormous book he was carrying. Ragnurk took another parchment out, wrote something, and snapped his fingers to send it away.

Gilderoy quickly spoke up, "Gutslasher, given that Mr. Potter's guardian has failed so spectacularly at preparing him for his position, would it not be appropriate to consider the guardian unfit and to immediately bestow upon Mr. Potter his Lordship so that he might hire his own tutors?"

Both Goblins looked at the Wizard.

He shrugged, "Gross negligence at the least, outright Line Theft at the worst."

They studied him a moment, then conferred for a few moments. Finally, they turned back to the three non-Goblins. "Yes," Gutslasher said. He turned to the little Wizard and handed him a parchment and quill. "Put in writing that you swear your guardian has not informed you of any rights and obligations as the Heir to House Potter. Put a drop of your blood on your signature."

As Harry was signing the document, he said, "I don't even know who my guardian is, unless it's my Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. And they told me my parents died drunk in a car accident."

"Are those Wizards?"

"No, sir, both are Muggles. Aunt 'Tunia is my mother's sister."

"And you do not know the identity of your magical guardian?"

"Ur," Harry looked embarrassed, "No sir."

The Goblin handed him another parchment, taking the first and tearing it in half. "Do it again, and put in that you magical guardian hasn't revealed himself or herself to you and that your Muggle guardians have lied to you regarding your parents and the magical world."

Harry sighed, but did as requested, handing over the finished document with a drop of blood by his signature. The Goblin read it and tossed it on the desk where it briefly flashed in a bright glow.

"Excellent, Gutslasher," Lockhart said. "While we wait for the ring, perhaps you could show Mr. Potter his financial position?" He turned to Harry, "Would you like it do that in private or would you mind doing it here?"

Harry looked slightly panicked at the thought of leaving the room.

Gilderoy turned back to the Goblins. "Mr. Potter, I think, wishes to consult in here."

Harry gave a relieved nod.

Gutslasher looked back and forth between them, and then grunted in acknowledgement. He glared at Harry a moment.

"Mr. Potter knows nothing of finance, Gutslasher," Gilderoy said, "So perhaps you should acquaint him with his Vaults' status and a brief overview of his properties. Later you can explain his investments in depth."

The glare transferred to Gilderoy, but the Wizard kept his face clear and calm, no trace of his normal showy smile. The Goblins would find it offensive.

The Goblin grunted again, and then turned to Harry. He opened the ledger, slammed it down in front of the boy and started talking rapidly.

Gilderoy turned to Ragnurk. "Now, as I said, the Miss Granger, here, needs a Heritage Search."

Hermione had been listening carefully to Gutslasher and looking over Harry's shoulder. Both of them showed shock at what they were seeing. Harry knew he had money, but to see the actual sums was stunning. There were far more digits than he had ever expected to see.

The Wizard walked over, took the Witch by a shoulder, and guided her over to the Credenza where Ragnurk was waiting. She kept looking back at Harry and his account manager. During their conversations, another Goblin had come in and dropped off some papers.

Ragnurk just handed the Blood Quill to the Witch and pointed to the top sheet. Hermione gave Gilderoy a questioning look but didn't take the quill.

Gilderoy smiled at the small Witch.

"Miss Granger, that paper is charmed to match all the blood and magic signatures recorded in Gringotts. When you write your name, it will compare your blood and magic with all those records and if any match, or match close enough to indicate you are an Heir to the Family, they will list below your name."

He chuckled, "You might even discover that some of your classmates are distantly related to you via their great-grandparents or even farther back.

She hesitantly took it and signed her name.

There was a momentary pause, then, House of Dagworth-Granger, sole living Heir appeared below her name, as if written by her. She looked up at Gilderoy and then the Goblin.

"Excellent, then, Miss Granger!" Lockhhart said enthusiastically. "It appears you are related to the Wizarding family of Dagworth-Granger and you are the only known living relation. Therefore, you inherit any vaults, their contents, and lands left by the family." He smiled broadly, as if she had done something quite clever. "Hector Dagworth-Granger was the founder of the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers, and a famous potioneer. You should find his personal journals quite interesting on the subject. Professor Snape might even be impressed if you were to give him a copy of one of them." The little Witch stared at him, still trying to take in that she belonged to a Wizarding family.

Ragnurk had already addressed a parchment and sent it on its way with a snap of his fingers. Almost at that moment, the door opened and a Goblin came in with small box that he took to Gutslasher.

They watched silently as Harry opened the box and put on the ring inside. Gilderoy walked over and held out his hands. "Congratulations, Lord Potter! You are now your own man, beholden to no one." Harry dazedly shook his hand.

"Gutslasher, because Lord Potter knows nothing of financial or estate management, would you recommend someone to act as his and Miss Granger's tutor? Charge his cost to Potter House. We can set up something on Sunday afternoons in Hogwarts or Hogsmeade, I'm sure." The Goblin nodded.

"Also," he turned and addressed Harry. "Lord Potter," the boy blushed at the title, "before you occupy any of your properties, I suggest you have the Goblins review and update their protective enchantments. There are Death Eaters still out there who would love to sneak up on you if they could. Whichever property you select to stay at this summer," the boy's eyes widened in surprise at that possibility, "I suggest you put it under a fidelius charm and reveal that only to a select few." He paused, and then added significantly, "Not the Headmaster, who might feel compelled to interfere and force you to your relatives in Surrey." Harry's face darkened at the mention of his aunt and uncle. Hermione gave Gilderoy a startled look and then turned to look at Harry. Harry slowly nodded.

"If you wish, I can give you advice on which adults you can trust. There aren't many besides myself."

The boy nodded again.

"Would you like the Goblins to review and upgrade as needed the protective enchantments on all your properties?"

"Yes, Professor Lockhart."

Gilderoy tilted his head towards the Goblins, "Well then, tell them." Harry hesitantly gave them the orders.

"Miss Granger," the Wizard turned to the girl, "before you give such orders to the Goblins, please carefully review your finances and the costs. Spending gold you don't have, even by accident, can be quite fatal when dealing with Goblins."

She nodded as she said, "Yes, Professor Lockhart."

"In the meantime, I suggest you send copies of the Gringotts reports to your parents. Lord Potter, I'm sure, would not mind giving Hedwig the exercise."

Both students gave him a curious look, wondering how he knew that Harry's owl's name was Hedwig.

They spent another hour with the Goblins reviewing the financial statements. Like most Houses, the Potter had most of their wealth tied up in property, however because there hadn't been any withdrawals in ten years there was much higher percentage of gold in his vaults than most. Gilderoy suggested he leave it mainly untouched until he had learned more about investing. His income was roughly twenty thousand galleons a year, ten times that of the average Witch or Wizard.

Miss Granger's estate was considerably smaller, with only a single dwelling. Dagworth-Granger's income from his potion patents had expired a hundred years ago. And while he had founded the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers, that did not provide any income, only bragging rights. If the house had had no upkeep since the last Dagworth-Granger had lived there, it might not be inhabitable. It was highly doubtful that any house-elves still survived and maintained the place, although it was possible. They would have to set aside a weekend to examine it.

As they were wrapping up, Hermione asked, "Have you done a Heritage Search, Professor Lockhart?"

He grinned widely, his charming smile on full display, "Why thank you for thinking of me, Miss Granger. I am the only Lockhart — my father is a Muggle and my mother a Witch whose family disinherited her, so only my family name will list."

She looked at him a moment, then said, "Why not do one anyway, as long as we are here."

He shrugged his shoulders. "An excellent idea, and a no-result demonstration is as important as one that reveals much." He turned to Ragnurk. "A Heritage Search, Ragnurk." He chuckled slightly. "Perhaps there is a secret or two hiding in my ancestry that I do not know!"

Two minutes later, he was staring at the parchment in horror, his eyes wide as the print marched down the page past his Family name. "No!" he whispered.

The parchment displayed:

.

House of Lockhart, Lord, founder.

House of Black, Lord, by Magic.

House of Potter, Lord, by Magic.

House of Peverell, Lord, by Magic.

House of Gryffindor, Lord, by Magic.

House of Slytherin, Lord, by Right of Conquest, by Magic.

House of Gaunt, Lord, by Right of Conquest, by Magic.