𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐄

Chapter 4

The inventory from Gringotts arrived on the same day that Lucius sent a signed copy of the contract to Harry and warned him that all of his encounters with Draco would be chaperoned. There was a bit of finality in reading that letter, as if he'd been set down a path from which he could no longer turn back – from which he'd never want to turn back, even if the worst should happen because of it. He wondered if that was how his parents had felt, back when. Time had not been kind to either parents or child, and the consequences of love and loss, life and death reached far and wide – restored and destroyed. Harry thought about what would come out of his courting of Draco – restoration or destruction or something in-determinant and in-between, both awesome and awful.

He thought of this as he studied the inventory of his accounts with more than a modicum of regret that he had not considered his inheritance sooner. Perhaps as a child he'd had no use for it – for gold that he couldn't touch for fear that his relatives would find out about it, or a legacy that he did not need for fear that it would kill him in the end. But he was no longer a child, and maybe that's why the curiosity had gone.

A few items on the list were of interest and he decided to return a letter to Gringotts requesting their delivery immediately. Though their monetary values were listed, their descriptions inspired a sentimental value. And was it a good or bad thing that he first noted some things that he wanted Draco to have? They had been in his family for generations it seemed, and he worried that he might be giving them away too lightly – one of three Potter signet rings, platinum, encrusted with amethyst; a magical cloak clasp woven with generations of protective spells, also platinum, circa 15th century Estonia, where Caradoc Potter commissioned it for his betrothed; and one of a set of rings, technically wedding bands, engraved with ancient Myrddinian runes, older than Hogwarts itself. But surely… surely his parents wouldn't fault him this? His father had given them to his mother, and Harry wanted to give them to Draco in the same fashion. They would belong to Draco, and Draco would belong to him, and they would not have left the family after all.

Deciding upon a course of action, Harry picked up parchment and quill to pen a letter to N. Sorg, the goblin accountant who handled the Potter estate. He had a small list of things that he wanted from his vaults. He couldn't help but think that something good had come out of Lucius's abominable behavior. At least now, with Snape's guidance – ironic though that may be – Harry would truly learn how to be his father's son, the Potter scion.

~

Due to an outbreak of Dragon Pox on the Ravenclaw quidditch team, the gaming schedule had been shuffled around, and Gryffindor found itself playing Hufflepuff much earlier in the season than usual. The Hufflepuff v. Ravenclaw game had been pushed back until after St. Valentine's Day, which was the usual Gryffindor v. Hufflepuff slot. Harry didn't really mind, even though it meant pushing back the first Virtus ritual, though Summerby, the Hufflepuff Seeker, griped about it for a week after the announcement was made. (Harry could only suppose that he wasn't looking forward to getting creamed at his first match of the season.)

The changing room was terrifically noisy when he and Ron split from Hermione and headed in to dress. Boys were snapping towels and the Chasers were all tossing a Quaffle around. Harry changed quickly, and waited until the start of game, snapping a buzzing snitch out of the air. Soon enough the announcer called out the teams, and the Gryffindors all filed onto the pitch amidst hundreds of cheering supporters.

The game was a long one – the snitch was elusive, giving time for the Chasers to really have at the goal posts, keeping the Keepers on their toes, so to speak. For the most part, it was an even, well-played game, but on occasion one team or another would get in a series of goals, widening the gap so that it seemed only the snitch could save the game for the opposition.