“After your parents’ demise and their will being sealed,” Sharptooth picked up the conversation, “Albus Dumbledore, again using his power as Chief Warlock, took over the position of your magical guardian.
How and why he could do it, I think, only Wizengamot and its members would be able to tell you.”
“It was his way,” he continued, “through which he gained access to your trust vault.”
“And how much money has Headmaster Dumbledore taken out of my trust vault?” Harry asked instantly.
“Mr.
Potter,” Sharptooth replied, “even though Dumbledore has control over your trust vault, he cannot take out money indiscriminately.”
“There are rules and regulations about withdrawing money from the trust vault,” he said.
“He must provide proper reasons for it.”
“So, he approved twenty galleons a month for your monthly expenditure, which was discontinued after you joined Hogwarts.
And twenty galleons a month, I must say, is more than enough to live like a king,” informed Sharptooth.
“Probably, enough to live in a castle that your stories talk about.”
Harry almost lost his control hearing this.
He had been living under the stairs inside a cramped cupboard, and Dumbledore had been taking twenty gold coins a month for his upkeep.
His face turned almost red from anger.
He was livid and the goblin could feel that anger erupting from him.
“Seeing your reaction, and the condition you were in the last time you visited, you never lived a life worth twenty galleons a month,” Sharptooth commented.
Harry took a deep breath and regained his composure.
He nodded in grim agreement but did not volunteer any further details about his childhood.
And neither did Sharptooth ask.
“Over the years,” Sharptooth continued, “aside from these monthly withdrawals, Dumbledore withdrew a few galleons on your birthdays.”
“There are also many sudden expenses, but since they were not too substantial considering your overall wealth, and given the fact that Dumbledore has the Ministry in his pocket, we never brought this up to the Ministry or the Council.
Dumbledore would have easily brushed those expenses off as reasonable.”
He adjusted the ledger in front of him and continued.
“For the last three years,” he said.
“Dumbledore himself has made no more withdrawals.
Instead, all the withdrawals, except for your very first one, have been made by Mrs.
Molly Weasley.
That total amounts to fourteen-hundred galleons.”
“And I assume,” Sharptooth remarked, “you received only a very small portion of it.”
“This is all from my side, Mr.
Potter,” Sharptooth said.
“I have more or less told you everything that I could have.”
“Now you can decide what to do.
But I must caution that since you yourself are not of age, you have very limited control even over yourself,” he explained.
“Though you can try to charge Molly Weasley and Albus Dumbledore with theft, the charges will hardly hold.”
“Firstly,” he continued, “because Dumbledore withdrew money as your magical guardian, and Molly Weasely did so with your key and probably with the permission of your magical guardian.
“It was your foolishness to allow Molly Weasely to do so.”
“Secondly,” he said, “Dumbledore has enough sway everywhere that you will be laughed out of court if you charge him with the theft of a few thousand galleons.”
“Though there are ways that allow wizards who are under age to take up a Lordship, Dumbledore would never allow any of those avenues to go through.
Most of the process has to go through the approvals of Wizengamot and I do not think Dumbledore is letting that happen.”
Harry could only nod in agreement.
Sharptooth was wrong about one thing, but Harry did not correct the goblin immediately.
Primitive families like the Peverells had no age requirements to claim a family Lordship.
The Wizarding Council could never change this law, even with a unanimous majority.
The council’s charter clearly stated that to change laws regarding the functioning or inheritances of the primitive families, a two third majority of those primitive families themselves was required.
And even to alter the charter of the Wizengamot itself, a two thirds majority of the primitive families was mandatory.
No matter how many times the Wizengamot had been restructured over the centuries, this particular clause could not be removed.
None of the modern books Harry had read mentioned anything about primitive families.
Even legendary houses like Gryffindor were only publicly known as Most Ancient and Most Noble Families.
Since the seats of the primitive families had been empty for centuries, the general public no longer knew the difference.
However, Harry was sure that this knowledge was a deeply guarded secret, known only to highly placed individuals who possessed an in-depth understanding of the council’s original charter.
Since Harry was already Lord Peverell, the magic of the bond emancipated him, meaning he would be considered of age for all other legal requirements as well.
For the Lordship of the Potter family itself.
Sharptooth would soon learn this for himself, as Harry fully intended to claim his position as Lord Potter today.
But not now.
For now, he kept his cards close to his chest.
He was well aware that no matter how much he wished for it, he could not legally prove anything against his headmaster yet.
Dumbledore was no bumbling old fool.
The public awed at his achievements and feared his displeasure.
“For the time being,” Harry stated, “I do not wish to take any legal action.”
“If Molly Weasley comes again to withdraw gold, inform her that her proxy key is no longer working due to a technical glitch with the vault’s ancient wards.
Tell her that a new key can only be issued after confirming my identity in person.
I do not want them to know that I have already gained access to my family legacy.”
Sharptooth contemplated the request for a moment before a small smile spread across his face.
“Though we do not lie to our clients,” he said, “since the key belongs to you and the vault is being restricted by your direct authority, calling it a technical glitch fits the description perfectly.”
“Very well,” Harry said, his voice entirely even.
He leaned back in his chair, fixing the goblin with a steady gaze.
“Mr.
Sharptooth, I want to perform an inheritance test.”
Sharptooth frowned, his bushy eyebrows knitting together.
“Are you sure, Mr.
Potter?” He questioned.
“I doubt that you will inherit any other family.”
“Perhaps, you might have a slim chance at House Black through your grandmother, but nothing more.
Your father was eligible only for the Potter Lordship and a far-fetched claim on the Black line.”
“Your mother never took an inheritance test, but since she was a Muggle born, I doubt you would gain any magical titles from her side.
And even if you do uncover a minor line, it will be of no practical use to you today, as you cannot claim any Lordship until you turn seventeen.”
Harry merely nodded, his expression completely unreadable.
“I would still like to proceed with the inheritance test,” he emphasised.
Sharptooth’s frown morphed into an intrigued, calculating smile.
The goblins always appreciated a wizard willing to pay for Gringotts services, no matter how futile they believed the outcome to be.
“Very well.
Follow me,” the goblin said.
He stood up from his chair and walked out of the room to retrieve the necessary ritual parchment and dagger.
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