The Grand Stage

7 Advanced chapters on Patreon: Fiction Haven

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"Would you like to hire a personal accountant for your family, Lord Peverell? We will only charge you 1% of your fortune for our lifetime service. We provide consultation, business management, auditing, investment market analysis, property expansion, and many other things."

"How does that 1% work? Is it adjusted to the fortune that I have, which means the amount is ever-changing along with my fortune's growth or is it adjusted to the current wealth I possess?"

"The former. But we won't be taking anything from you yet. Consider this an investment and we have a 1% stake in your property."

"Cheeky little bastard. The accountant fee Gringotts normally charges won't exceed a thousand galleons a year. And you want millions for a lifetime?"

"0.8%"

"0.1%"

"0.5%"

"Deal. And I want Gringotts' best efforts in handling my business."

"Certainly…Lord Peverell."

Griphook looked disgruntled and Harry was more than pleased. Bella and Lily watched the scene both in amusement and amazement. Wizards looked down on Goblins most of the time but rarely won an argument with Goblins. Harry had haggled with one and won. It was worthy enough to be published in the Daily Prophet.

Lily and Bella waited for Harry as he filled up some forms. When all things were done, Griphook gave him a bottomless pouch that was connected to his vault. He could take out or store anything that wasn't bigger than the pouch. They returned to Hogwarts at sunset. Filch the guard dog wasn't pleased by their complete disregard of rules but didn't say a thing.

Back at the Ministry, the guy working on the family registry blinked in disbelief. He chuckled thinking it was a joke and then realised it was as real as it could be. The notes they received from Gringotts backed the claim. The long family tree had been updated and the ancestry test results supported the addition.

"Merlin's saggy left nut! The Peverell is revived. But this name…curious. Very curious! Harry Ignotus James Peverell, huh? Well, I am not paid to think about it. Let's just put it in the register."

It wasn't until three days later that words got out about the revival of the Peverell. The Ministry confirmed the rumour, but Harry hadn't said a word. Many journalists were trying to reach out to the young lord, but he didn't bother showing his face. They tried to gain access to Hogwarts, but Dumbledore banned any journalist from entering.

While the world was in an uproar, Harry and his three ladies spent their merry time at Hogwarts. They talked about Magic and mundane stuff, duelled to improve their skills, and had fun in bed on one of the nights. Harry's stellar reputation discouraged many students from approaching him, but he still treated them like his equals.

"Madam Lily, excuse me! Do you think Lord Peverell is looking for a concubine?"

"Why are you asking me?"

"I figure you might recommend me."

"No. Keep your knickers on and focus on the subject!"

Some of the female students often joked about wanting to become Harry's mistress, but everyone knew many wanted to become one. Harry was not only powerful but good-looking—extremely. Even without those, marrying into his family was a brag-worthy achievement. Naturally, his lineage was sought after.

Lily and Bella laughed at the attention Harry got, but Fleur often found herself irate. The greedy eyes ravishing her mate evoked her territorial tendency. She didn't mind Harry having another woman but wouldn't want her to be a gold-digger. Lily and Bella were sincere which was why she got along with them well.

"Relax, Queen Bee, nobody will steal our Harry."

"But, Bella, aren't you irked by the way they look at Harry?"

"They can look but not touch. If Harry was as irate as you are, Hogwarts would have been flooded with blood."

Bella could sympathise with the young witch. Up until a few months ago, she was like Fleur, after all. Heck, Lily had also been like Fleur and she was more experienced in romance. You could not get jittery having Harry as your lover. He was so amazing that you would always wonder if you were good enough for him.

Unaware of the effects he had on people, Harry wandered to the potion Professor's office. The way Severus dressed and the appearance of his office made Harry wonder if he was trying to become Batman. Harry knocked on the door and Severus answered it a couple of seconds later. When he entered the room, Severus regarded him with a flash of surprise in his eyes.

"Our resident celebrity, Lord Peverell? What kind of noble deed my family has done to be grazed by your presence?" Severus drawled.

"Carve this memory into your brain, peasant. Thank your family for being so noble that it attracts my chivalrous being," Harry quipped pompously.

"What do you want, Peverell?" Severus asked with a hint of smirk.

Harry sat down and gave a small smile. "Lily said you are good at potions."

"Not as much as she is but distinctly better than you, obviously," Severus admitted humbly.

Harry ignored the cheek and looked at Severus solemnly, causing the man to stiffen up. "Do you think we can cure Dumbledore?"

"Impossible," the answer came out instantaneously. "Only Ambrosia can save him and even a dimwit knows that thing doesn't exist." Severus sneered. "What? After all these years, you are saying you care for the old man?"

The question brought an amused smile to Harry's face. "No. I care for my family. Dumbledore only happens to be of significance to keep my family safe. I need as much help as I can get for a better safety net."

"James should be able to provide you enough with that," Severus frowned.

A snort came out of Harry at Severus' words. "That dimwit's help will be insignificant considering our opponent." Harry was thinking about He-Who-Defies, but Severus thought he was talking about Voldemort. Regardless, Severus nodded in agreement. "Well, then, it has been an amusing conversation, Snivellus. Tell me if you come up with something."

Harry stood up and left the office. Severus stared at the vacated spot silently before going back to his work. Harry was giving off power equal to if not above Dumbledore. Seeing Harry so thoughtful made Severus nervous. He had a feeling that Harry was not worrying about the Dark Lord.

…

The day of the Third Task had finally come. The finals for the group duelling tournament had just been held a week ago. House Slytherin of Hogwarts won first place followed by Beauxbatons and House Gryffindor. The result was mindboggling for the Gryffindors. They thought the Beauxbatons team and the Slytherin team had done a ritual to summon their ancestors' souls. When they heard Harry had helped the teams with their training; everything suddenly made sense.

Charlus was left a bit disgruntled but could only sigh in defeat. His victory in the individual duel had been a close one. He wasn't sure he would have beaten Daphne if she hadn't run out of Magic. He couldn't be happy with his achievement. His team match's results were also quite disappointing, but luckily, the attention on them was not much. Thanks to Harry, the group duelling tournament was overshadowed by the talk about his status.

"Ugh! Should I just ask Harry to train me? I did that two months ago and Malfoy called me Harry's fanboy—that dickhead!" Charlus grumbled to himself in the audience seat. He was at the Quidditch stadium with many others.

"Why should you care about what Malfoy says, Charlus?" Hermione asked in confusion. "He is your brother. No one will blame you for spending time with him. Although you could have not followed him around whenever you get the chance."

"You don't understand, Hermione. Only those with brothers get it," Ron scoffed. "But seriously, mate, it's not wrong to spend time with your cool brother. He might be a Slytherin, but I won't miss the chance to be trained by him if I were you."

"Who are you? Why are you so wise?" Charlus looked at Ron with faux shock.

"Ah, bugger off, you doughnut," Ron grumbled, eliciting a laugh from his friends.

Dumbledore took the stage and welcomed everyone to the Third Task which was the peak of the year-long event. The audience erupted in cheers. There were so many people filling the stadium that the sound was deafening. The audience calmed down when he invited the Champions into the pitch.

"Everyone, welcome our most bewitching witch, Miss Fleur Delacour!"

The Beauxbatons Champion went first. Everyone, especially the male cheered loudly. Some of them even wanted to jump down the seat and confess to Fleur.

"The immovable Champion, Viktor Krum!"

The Durmstrang Champion went second. The Quidditch enthusiasts roared while the female fans squealed in reverence.

"Lastly, our Stellar Champion, Harry Peverell!"

The attending family heads who hadn't joined the fun till then stood up from their seats and clapped as Harry entered the pitch. His impressive fashion and stunning appearance caused the females to cheer loudly. The males also didn't lose to the females as they were equally excited to see how Harry would perform.

Harry silently stared at the maze in front of him, ignoring Dumbledore's announcement about the mechanism of the task. The Ministry handled the Triwizard Cup. He hoped the sneaky Death Eaters had sneaked a Portkey to Little Hangleton, although he knew the chance was abysmal. Regardless, he would win.

Blare!

When Dumbledore started the match, Harry's wand slipped into his hand. With a Bombarda Maxima, he destroyed the maze walls. He kept casting it until he could see the cup. He Apparated to the cup under everyone's stunned gaze and activated the Portkey on it. As the maze walls were closing, Harry disappeared from the maze.