Harry woke up, the first thing he saw was Dobby’s terrified face hovering inches from his own.
“Harry Potter sir!” the elf squeaked.
“Harry Potter woke up!”
Hedwig immediately landed on Harry’s chest with an indignant hoot.
“…Ow,” Harry mumbled weakly.
His entire body felt drained, empty like he had run a marathon after being hit by a truck.
He looked at Hedwig and noticed something; her feathers looked different.
Still snowy white, but glossier somehow, carrying a faint silvery shimmer beneath the moonlight.
More than that, she felt…
Harry froze.
He could feel her.
Not just the physical weight on his chest, but her emotions.
Worry.
Relief.
Affection.
Annoyance.
Harry sat upright so quickly Hedwig fluttered backward in alarm.
A notification appeared.
[Familiar Bond Established]
Target: Hedwig
Status: Successful
A partial soul connection previously existed between host and target.
Current mana surge completed synchronization process.
Effects:
Emotional awareness
Presence detection
Enhanced magical growth for familiar
Mana compatibility increased
[Familiar Evolution Detected!]
Target: Hedwig
Species: Snow Owl → Arcane Snow Owl
Harry stared blankly at the screen.
“…What?”
Hedwig hooted proudly, and Harry slowly looked at her as the realization hit him.
The bond between them had always been unusually strong.
Hedwig understood him better than most humans did.
She comforted him when he felt miserable and found him when he was lonely.
Harry had always assumed it was because she had been his first real companion, but it seemed there had genuinely been a magical connection forming between them all along.
And tonight he had accidentally completed it.
Harry felt a stab of guilt.
“Sorry,” he whispered softly, stroking her feathers.
“Guess I should’ve realized sooner.”
Hedwig immediately nibbled his hair in response, and Harry laughed weakly.
Another notification appeared.
[Contract Bond Established]
Target: Dobby
Classification: Domestic Elf Contract
Harry’s smile vanished instantly.
“…What?”
He read the notification again.
And again.
Cold horror crawled down his spine.
House-elves bonded magically to masters; that was why they obeyed, why they could not leave.
When Harry wrapped Dobby in his mana earlier, Dobby had accepted it willingly, and the bond had formed, replacing his previous connection to Hogwarts.
Harry’s face went pale.
“No.
No no no no—”
Dobby blinked in confusion as Harry scrambled toward his trunk.
“I’m not doing this,” Harry muttered frantically.
“I’m not owning people—”
He yanked open the trunk and grabbed the first piece of clothing he could find: a sock.
Dobby’s eyes widened in horror.
“H-Harry Potter is dismissing Dobby?”
“I’m freeing you!”
Dobby looked devastated, really devastated like his world was ending.
“T-Then Dobby was not good enough…” the elf whispered miserably.
“Dobby failed as Harry Potter’s elf…”
Before Harry could react, Dobby slapped himself hard across the face.
Harry panicked immediately.
“No!
Stop that!”
“But Dobby disappointed Harry Potter—”
“I don’t want slaves!”
Dobby froze, and Harry ran a hand through his hair.
“You’re my friend, Dobby!
I don’t want… that.”
The elf stared at him uncertainly.
Harry’s brain scrambled for literally any alternative.
“You can still work for me though!” he blurted out.
“Just—not as a slave!”
Dobby blinked.
“Then… what is Dobby?”
Harry’s exhausted mind reached into the foreign memories for the fanciest servant role he could think of.
“A butler?”
Dobby tilted his head.
“Butler?”
“Y-Yeah.
A butler.”
Harry immediately committed to the lie despite barely understanding it himself.
“They’re, uh… high-class household staff.
Very respected and elegant- they basically manage everything.”
Harry’s mental image of butlers consisted of Alfred Pennyworth and Sebastian Michaelis, which set deeply unrealistic expectations.
Dobby’s eyes grew wider and wider.
“A magical butler…” he whispered reverently.
“You’d get paid,” Harry continued quickly.
“And you can leave whenever you want.”
Dobby looked emotional again.
“And butlers read books,” Harry added, improvising wildly.
“Lots of books, probably, since they know a lot of stuff.”
Dobby gasped.
“Dobby is allowed to read?”
“Obviously!”
The elf looked like Harry had just offered him the moon.
“You can read whatever you want,” Harry said firmly.
“I’ll buy you books.
All the books you want.”
Dobby made a strangled emotional noise somewhere between a sob and a squeal and launched himself at Harry in a crushing hug.
“Dobby will become the greatest magical butler in history!” he declared dramatically.
Harry laughed helplessly.
And so, by the end of the night, Harry Potter had acquired both a familiar and a butler.
***
At exactly eight in the morning, Harry Potter entered Gringotts looking like someone who absolutely did not want attention and was therefore attracting all of it.
In hindsight, the disguise might have been counterproductive.
The oversized hoodie with the hood pulled up already attracted attention.
Adding sunglasses over his normal glasses and topping the whole thing off with a hat large enough to conceal a small bird only made matters worse.
He had mentioned needing a disguise so he wouldn’t get recognized and Dobby… Dobby had tried his best.
Harry wasn’t about to crush the light in those big, sparkly eyes, so here he was, dressed like a walking “please investigate me” sign while trying to stay unnoticed.
Several goblins stared at him the moment he entered the bank, one wizard nearby clutched his briefcase tighter and Harry considered turning around and pretending this never happened.
Too late now.
Hedwig and Dobby had remained outside.
Hedwig perched atop a nearby rooftop while Dobby waited hidden in an alley after firmly agreeing not to loudly announce Harry Potter’s arrival to the entirety of Diagon Alley.
That left Harry alone as he approached one of the goblin clerks seated behind the marble counters.
The goblin looked up slowly.
“…Can I help you?”
Harry resisted the urge to say obviously.
“I’d like to speak with whoever manages my vault,” he said carefully.
The goblin’s sharp eyes narrowed.
“Vault number?”
Harry gave it, and recognition flickered briefly across the goblin’s face.
“Follow me,” the goblin said curtly.
Harry was led through several winding corridors deeper into the bank before eventually entering an office lined with ledgers and enchanted parchment.
An older goblin sat behind the desk.
“Mr.
Potter,” the goblin greeted without surprise.
Harry awkwardly removed the sunglasses.
There was no point continuing the disguise at this stage.
“I wanted to ask about my finances,” Harry said.
“Everything, really.
Vaults, properties, trusts, investments…”
The goblin who managed the Potter accounts introduced himself as Zarok Ironledger, which Harry suspected was either an extremely prestigious goblin banking name or the goblin equivalent of naming a banker “Coin McMoney.”
Harry looked around the office; everything was too organized.
Shelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling, filled with ancient ledgers bound in dragon hide and enchanted parchment that occasionally rewrote itself with scratching quills.
Harry was fairly certain the decorative dagger mounted on the wall was not actually decorative.
Zarok folded his hands neatly atop the desk.
“Now then, Mr.
Potter,” he said, voice measured.
“You requested a complete review of your financial situation.”
Harry nodded.
“Yes.”
The goblin’s sharp black eyes studied him carefully.
“Most wizarding children your age merely withdraw spending money.”
“Well…” Harry hesitated slightly.
“My situation changed recently.”
That, at least, was true.
Zarok hummed quietly.
“Indeed.”
The goblin sounded like he knew far more than Harry was comfortable with.
Then again, Gringotts probably thrived on gathering information.
The goblin opened one of the ledgers.
“The Potter Vault is classified as an Old Family Vault,” he explained.
“The Potters are moderately wealthy, politically respectable, and historically competent at preserving assets.
Your family possessed neither extraordinary fortunes nor significant debts.”
That sounded about right for James Potter.
Harry could not imagine his father patiently managing investment portfolios.
“What exactly counts as wealthy?” Harry asked.
Zarok gave him a look.
“That depends entirely on whether one asks a goblin or a wizard.”
“…” Harry still technically had no answer, but he was pretty sure he understood anyway.
The goblin flipped a page.
“Your parents left behind liquid assets, several protected investment accounts, and a handful of long-term holdings managed through Gringotts.”
“Long-term holdings?”
“Properties, shares in potion distribution ventures, foreign trade investments, and Ministry war bonds purchased during the first war against the Dark Lord.”
Harry blinked.
That was more than he realistically expected.
Turns out his parents had been more financially responsible than he expected.
Or maybe Fleamont Potter had set most of it up before them.
His parents did die pretty young and from personal experience, Hogwarts doesn’t teach much about economics or finance.
“Do I own any houses?” Harry asked cautiously.
“One.”
Harry straightened immediately.
“What?”
Zarok glanced at another parchment.
“A cottage in Godric’s Hollow remains registered under the Potter estate.”
Harry’s expression shifted.
Oh, right.
He almost forgot.
The house where his parents died- the thought of living there makes him nauseous.
“Can I live there?”
The goblin raised an eyebrow.
“Legally?
Yes.”
Harry stared.
“…That’s it?”
“Mr.
Potter,” Zarok said dryly, “Gringotts is a bank, not a nanny service.
If the owner of a property wishes to reside there, that is generally their decision.”
That was very reasonable.
Although Harry strongly suspected the Ministry would have opinions about him repairing the house, let alone him living there alone.
For all he knew, the place had become some sort of monument in the wizarding world and had been left exactly as it was on Halloween night of 1981.
Which meant it was probably in shambles.
And he really didnt feel like living there.
“Any other properties?”
“No.”
Thank Merlin.
Harry had been half-afraid some absurd fanfiction manor with fifty-seven inherited titles might suddenly appear.
Speaking of which…
Harry cleared his throat awkwardly.
“So… hypothetically…”
Zarok immediately looked exhausted.
“…Yes?”
“If someone wanted to check blood inheritances, lordships, ancient family seats, magical lineage claims, hidden vaults, or…” Harry winced slightly, “…multiple noble houses?”
The goblin closed his eyes briefly, looking very tired, and Harry winced.
“If you are referring to blood inheritance rituals, ancient lordships, secret marriage contracts, or sudden discovery of twelve hidden family vaults,” the goblin said flatly, “most of those are fictional nonsense written by bored magicals.”
Harry nearly laughed in relief.
Thank Merlin.
The goblin continued.
“Formal inheritance verification exists, but such matters fall under the authority of the Ministry’s Department of Magical Lineages, not Gringotts.”
So the absurd “Lord Potter-Black-Peverell-Slytherin-Gryffindor” nonsense was almost certainly not real.
Excellent.
Honestly, Harry had been mildly terrified that the magical world might genuinely function that way.
“So no one inherits Hogwarts?” Harry asked before thinking.
The goblin stared at him.
“…No.”
“Right.” He scratched his cheek awkwardly.
“Nor does magical inheritance suddenly transfer ten forgotten family fortunes to random children through blood rituals.” The goblin clarifies with a deep exhaustion and subtle exasperation.
Harry relaxed considerably, tho still feeling a bit awkward.
Good.
That sounded ridiculous, but better to confirm, the magic world is pretty insane after all.
Zarok tapped one claw against the desk.
“Wizarding fiction tends to romanticize aristocracy to a deeply unhealthy degree.”
“That sounds familiar,” Harry muttered.
Wizarding fiction is a good excuse for his questions because how exactly did one explain accidentally absorbing memories from another universe full of deranged fanfiction?
The goblin ignored that.
“Your family was respected, wealthy, and politically connected enough to matter,” Zarok continued.
“But the Potters were not royalty.”
Harry preferred that.
The idea of becoming “Lord Potter” sounded embarrassing.
Still, Gringotts apparently offered a disturbing amount of additional services for sufficiently wealthy clients.
Curse storage.
International transfers.
Identity verification.
Discreet acquisitions.
Secure transport.
Harry was rapidly beginning to understand why goblins intimidated wizarding Britain.
Before leaving, Harry purchased an enchanted coin pouch recommended by the goblin.
The thing looked deceptively simple from the outside, made of dark leather with silver threading along the edges.
The enchantments, however, were impressive.
Weightless charms, expansion magic, and anti-theft protections keyed specifically to Harry’s magic signature.
Trying to steal it would cause the pouch to temporarily seal itself and alert the owner.
Harry immediately bought one.
If he was going to be homeless for the foreseeable future, securing his money sounded extremely important.
Afterward, he finally visited his vault itself.
The familiar underground cart ride remained just as terrifying as he remembered.
Harry stepped out into the Potter vault and paused.
Mountains of gold glittered around him beneath torchlight.
Enough wealth to make the Dursleys faint on the spot.
Harry withdrew several thousand Galleons and transferred them into the enchanted pouch.
The pouch barely changed weight despite now containing enough money to buy a small house.
Magic really was absurd sometimes.
The moment he closed the pouch, the system chimed.
[Quest Complete!]
[Inherited Gold]
Objectives Completed:
Visit Gringotts Wizarding Bank ✔
Confirm vault access ✔
Evaluate current finances ✔
Verify inheritance claims ✔
Rewards Issued:
+250 EXP
[LEVEL UP!]
Harry nearly dropped the pouch.
Another notification appeared immediately afterward.
[Level 2 Reached]
Rewards:
+1 Stat Point
Harry froze.
A stat point.
An actual stat point.
The temptation to immediately dump it into Mana was immense.
More mana meant more magic and more magic meant bigger survival odds.
Harry forced himself to stay calm.
He still barely understood the system.
Agility, endurance, mana—he had no idea how impactful each stat became later on.
Using points carelessly sounded stupid, so Harry closed the notification without assigning it.
The goblin watching him from nearby gave him an odd look.
Harry coughed awkwardly.
“Dust in my eye.”