A Snake Named Voldemort

Chapter 19

"Harry James Potter!"

A dull, tinkering clank sounded as one Harry James Potter dropped his metal stirring spoon into the bowl of fudge frosting he was making for the toffee bars currently in the oven. It was a project he had initiated for no other reason other than for his own enjoyment.

It seemed his time in the kitchen was about to be interrupted, though. The whites of Harry's eyes shown as he spun just in time to see Tom throw open the kitchen door without even touching it, his enormous amount of magic sizzling in the air around him. Harry pressed his lower back uncomfortably into the edge of the prep table he was working at, wondering what he had done to put such an absolute murderous expression on Tom's usually handsome features.

"T-tom?" Harry stuttered meekly, the pit of his stomach dropping. Tom looked so angry, and it scared him.

Something wasn't quite right, though. However irate Tom looked, he also looked almost bewildered as well. In his one hand he held a few slightly crumbled pieces of paper. He held them aloft and jabbed them at Harry. At least the worst they could do was give Harry a paper cut, as compared to what Tom's wand was capable of.

"This is your fault!"

Oh, well, when wasn't it his fault according to Tom? Willing his body to relax to ease the pressure of digging his back into the marble tabletop, Harry, with a slightly quivering voice, said, "I don't understand. What is my fault?"

"I....He..." Tom's anger prevented him from speaking further. Harry's eyebrows jumped around on his forehead. He couldn't ever remember a time Tom had been so worked up that he was at a loss for words, and Harry was getting nervous that whatever caused the odd behaviour was actually a Really Bad Thing.

"Tom, what is it?" Harry croaked out urgently. Tom snarled, red eyes flashing.

"He..." The sentence died. "As if I wanted his help," he was finally able to spit out. "This is your fault!"

Harry fought the urge to sigh. "Yes, you've said that already," he blurted in his exasperation and worry.

The thick pages Tom held were suddenly shoved into Harry's hands, who then straightened them out a little and scanned the words written on the top one. It was from Gringotts, he realized, before reading a little further. He blinked several times, wondering if the thing Tom had done to his eyesight was wearing off, because what he read couldn't possibly be right. He read it again, feeling his expression slacken in shock.

"It...it says you've been made his heir." In Harry's hands was a letter from the Gringotts division of Wills and Inheritance. It was addressed to Tom Marvolo Riddle, and within the body of the letter it stated in short, concise sentences that Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore had formally declared Tom Riddle as the heir to his name. Harry was actually quite familiar with this sort of document, and what it entailed. Sirius Black, his Godfather, had made him heir to the Black family, despite the fact Harry wasn't the most direct or close descendent of said family. Sirius had given Harry basically everything, denying his cousins, namely Bellatrix and Narcissa, both née Black, any benefit. What Harry didn't get went to others of Sirius' choosing. Besides the vaults and Black properties Harry now had control over, he also had several forms of political influence, in terms of votes and even seats in some establishments in the Ministry, which he could choose to pursue when he came of age.

Harry could bet that Dumbledore, famed wizard that he was, had amassed a sizeable amount of assets throughout his long life, but it was probably his influence and political power that were the most valuable of his possessions. Dumbledore was currently head of the Wizengamot and once had been head of the International Confederation of Wizards, though now he was just a regular member after being kicked out for one year. If this was for real, just by being Dumbledore's heir, it was likely Tom would be favoured as a replacement member once Dumbledore could no longer participate.