Gringotts

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I awoke with a pounding headache. No matter how many times I go through that, I'll never get used to it. I reach to the trunk next me, open it and drown a Wiggenweld potion.

Instant relief.

As I take a look around I find myself in knockturn alley.

Great.

I do my routine as I always do when I am put into the living world for a task.

I conjure up a mirror and take a look at myself.

Wow.

Even I can admit I look good. It seems I have black wavy-ish hair that's currently disheveled, I've got a slim face with slightly tan skin and green eyes. I take a closer look and notice I have my eyes. As in Harry's eyes. The Avada Kedavra green eyes that I got from my mother. However, I know that won't raise any questions since it's not a deal-breaker that I happen to have almost the exact shade of green as a certain muggleborn student who other than eye color, I look nothing like.

I inspect my face further and I immediately narrow myself down to halfblood or pure blood. I could name those aristocratic features anywhere. No way are these muggleborn features. Although they look quite soft. Not too sharp. I'm probably a half blood then.

—————-How Harry looks ——-

—————-How Harry looks ——-

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You bet he's hot. Kinda has to be for my plan. He finna be a heartthrob. Not just for looks tho don't worry, he's a gentleman.

———————- back to story ———————-

I notice a line peaking out of my forehead. Oh no. I push my hair back and see the familiar scar. Why did I have to have it. I sigh as I put my hair over it. Fuck you death.

I swear I heard death giggle.

Anyways, first off on the agenda: Gringotts.

This is my favorite part. When I have looked at myself and still don't know who I am, I find out through Gringotts. With an inheritance test.

As I enter and look for an empty goblin teller I catch sight of an old grouchy friend.

"Sharpclaw!" I shout, grinning, catching his attention. He looks at me in confusion and a scowl,

"May your enemies bow to your sword," I continue.

"May your gold ever flow," he replies both surprised and unsurely, "How do you know my name?"

"You're a good friend of mine. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't know your name?"

"Forgive me if I'm mistaken, but I do not recall your face," he replies taken back, but yet still a scowl present on his face.

"That's correct," I say giving no indication that I will explain myself.

Sharpclaw continues, maybe thinking I'm high, "What do you require of Gringotts service today?

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