Harry Potter and the Secret Inheritance

Chapter 3

Harry woke up on something soft. He didn't know where he was at first, but then the memories of the past day caught up with him. He shot straight up with wide eyes, looking around, and recognized Grinlast's office, confirming that it hadn't just been one bad dream.

"Ah, Mister Potter... or would you prefer Miss Potter? Anyway, it is good to see you are awake," a voice spoke.

Harry looked over and saw that it was Grinlast who had spoken. When the words Grinlast said sank in, Harry felt conflicted. He was a boy right now, but he was supposed to be a girl. To be honest, he had always felt like something was wrong—he had tried to figure out what it was on his own but never could.

Now, when he thought of himself with female pronouns, it was like that wrongness went away a little. He realized that even if he had never known he was supposed to be a girl, his body had known, and that was enough to tell him that something was wrong.

Maybe he should start calling himself a female now? Harry didn't know, but there was always time to figure that out later. Maybe he could stick to they/them pronouns for now? At least until they figured out what they were going to call themself.

"Thank you, sir, but, uh, I don't know what I wish to be called right now. If it's okay with you, would you please call me Harry until I figure it out?"

Grinlast raised an eyebrow, looking a little surprised, but he nodded. "Very well, if that is what you wish to be called." Harry nodded. "Well, you may not have been exactly who you claimed to be, and while normally we would behead you, it is clear that you had no clue or choice about the deceit that was going on."

Harry gulped but nodded their head. "I had thought that I was born to James and Lily Potter as a boy. I had no clue I was adopted or that I was born as a girl."

Grinlast gave a small, thoughtful hum. "I see your honesty. It seems that you had no clue that you had been born as a female?"

Harry shook his head again. "Besides feeling like something was wrong, no, I had no idea."

Grinlast gave Harry a nod. He had a thoughtful look on his face, as if trying to figure out a tricky puzzle. Harry decided to ask about the blocks on them.

"Um, Mister Grinlast?" Grinlast looked up and snorted at the 'mister' part. "Just Grinlast, please. You gave me the honor of calling you Harry, and I shall bestow the same courtesy unto you." Harry nodded in understanding. "Okay, well, uh, Grinlast, is there any way to get all of the blocks off of me? And get all of those potions out of my system. Oh, and that Horcrux thing, whatever that is—it's from Voldemort, and I don't want something like that in my head."

Grinlast frowned. "Well, there is one way to do all that you wish, but it is expensive. A Horcrux is some of the foulest magic there is. It happens when a wizard or witch tears out part of their soul and sticks it into an object. There are only a few ways to destroy a Horcrux as it is, and only one of those ways works without destroying the container of the soul as well."

Harry felt sick. They had a piece of Voldemort's soul in their head! "I'll do anything, please, just get that sick, smoky bastard out of my head."

"Very well." Grinlast wrote something on a piece of parchment. Nodding to himself, he scribbled something down again, then spoke. "From what we have to work with, it is clear that Voldemort did not mean to make you a Horcrux. Otherwise, he wouldn't have tried to kill you. We have theorized that he was likely planning on using your death to create one, but when the killing curse rebounded and hit him, it caused a piece of his soul to break off and find the nearest containment unit—which was you."

"I just want it gone," Harry said desperately. Grinlast had mentioned that there was only one way to get rid of a Horcrux without destroying the container. Harry had a feeling that Dumbledore hadn't missed a piece of Voldemort's soul stuck in their head, so that meant that Dumbledore had either been planning their death or waiting until they were older to get it out. From the way things were looking, it seemed like Dumbledore had decided to kill Harry off.

"We can do that when we go to get the blocks and potions off, if you wish." Harry nodded; they just wanted to get the Horcrux out first. At least the love potion keyed to Ginny explained the weird crush they had on her, now that they thought about it.

It didn't help with their feelings for Hermione, but at least they knew that before this year those feelings had been real. Harry felt any remaining crush for the bushy-haired girl leave them when they noticed she had been potioning them since they were eleven. Harry also knew they could never forgive her for that, unless she had a very good reason, and this was not a good reason in their mind.

"Come along, Harry. We have everything set up for the ritual to get the blocks and potions off. The ritual for getting the Horcrux out will take much longer to set up, since some of the things it requires are quite rare, which is... part of the reason it is so expensive." Grinlast got up and started walking to the door.

Harry sprang out of their chair and sped after Grinlast. For a short little guy, he was quite fast on those tiny legs of his.

Walking into the ritual room, Harry felt like they had just entered the Goblins' dungeons for some reason. There was a stone slab in the middle of the room and runes all over the floor, spelling out something that Harry didn't, and probably couldn't, understand.

There was a changing screen in one corner, and a Goblin handed them a few loose white robes. Harry figured out what they wanted pretty quickly and walked behind the screen with a bright red face as they put the robes on.

After changing, Harry stepped out from behind the screen, which was probably taken away so it didn't interfere with the ritual. One of the Goblins walked up to Harry and spoke, "You are going to need to lie down on the slab in the center of the room. It will not be comfortable, as it is meant to do its job, not be a bench."

The Goblin had a no-nonsense attitude, expecting Harry to do as they were told. Harry hesitantly walked over to the slab, lying down on it apprehensively, expecting it to come alive and swallow them whole, even though it was made of stone. As far as Harry was concerned, anything was possible if you wished hard enough.

How was Harry supposed to know any better about that stuff? No one thought to teach them anything about how the magical world worked! Idly, Harry wondered if the Goblins would be willing to do that for them—teach them how things worked in this world?

Something to think about after they were done here. Pretty soon after, the Goblins got into position and started chanting. Harry felt a searing pain throughout their body.

Harry didn't see it, but they had grown an inch (they were still short as hell), their chest grew out to give them a medium-sized chest—not too big, but not too small either. They thinned out, gaining a few curves, and their black hair lengthened down to near the middle of their back. Harry's bright green eyes lightened into a soft, pale green, and they got a few freckles on their nose, giving them an innocent look. Scars that had been with Harry since childhood, thanks to the Dursleys, were removed—the only blemish on otherwise perfect skin was the scar on Harry's forehead, which would hopefully be gone with the next ritual, and the basilisk bite Harry had received when they were twelve, as that was something not even the best magic in the world could heal.

Harry passed out from the pain when the ritual was finished, impressing the Goblins, as most people, if not all, passed out during the ritual. As Harry slept, a certain old goat's trinkets stopped working due to the magic and potions being expelled from Harry's body.

After all, you can't track Harry Potter if that name wasn't affiliated with someone. Not to mention that Harry Potter didn't exist anymore, and all that was left was a young girl who needed a name.