As I apparated into the narrow entrance of Diagon Alley, I couldn't help but feel like the name Harry Potter felt increasingly ill-fitting, this was the name of the very child that i had tried to murder. It did leave quite the bad taste in my mouth.
I noticed some stares from the wizards and witches that flooded Diagon Alley and quickly pulled up a Disillusionment Charm tightly around myself.
Wizards and witches flowed past me, arguing over cauldrons and robes, never once glancing my way as I walked straight toward the snow-white marble façade of Gringotts Wizarding Bank.
The goblin guards crossed their halberds with a sharp clang as I approached, signaling the importance of this moment and the danger I was in.
I did not slow as I got closer and dropped the Disillusionment Charm.
The goblins looked up at once.
Their expressions curdled.
The great hall of Gringotts was as it always had been: towering marble columns, chandeliers burning with cold white fire, and long counters carved with runes older than Hogwarts itself. Goblins sat behind them, quills scratching, eyes sharp and unwelcoming.
A few hissed under their breath. One sneered openly. To them, I probably looked like a half-starved wizard child with tangled hair and hand-me-down clothes. I did not look important enough to spare even a moment of their time.
I walked to an empty desk and placed my hands flat on the stone.
"I require assistance," I said calmly. "Inheritance testing. Full lineage verification. And a comprehensive diagnostic for foreign magics placed upon my body." My voice carried out little direct as I looked to the goblin who seemed to not want to bother with me.
He looked up slowly, irritation etched deep into his features. "You will wait," he snapped. "We are busy."
I smiled faintly. Not warmly.
"I am ten years old," I said. "Unaccompanied. Requesting services explicitly protected under the Foundational Accords of Gringotts Banking Charter, Article Seven, Subclause Three."
His eyes narrowed.
Then widened.
He snapped his fingers sharply. Another goblin appeared from nowhere, taller, broader, his nose bearing a thin scar that looked suspiciously like it had been earned honestly.
"Ironcleaver," the newcomer introduced himself, voice like steel dragged across stone. "Follow."
He did not wait for agreement.
We passed through a side door that sealed itself silently behind us, climbed a narrow staircase carved directly from the marble, and stopped before the third office on the second floor. Ironcleaver opened the door and gestured me inside.
The goblin waiting there was massive.
Even seated, he seemed to loom, his shoulders nearly brushing both sides of the room. His skin was dark, almost bronze, etched with ritual scars and inlaid runes. Gold rings adorned his fingers, each one heavy with magic. His eyes were ancient, calculating, bored in the way of something that had seen too much to be impressed easily.
"Sit," he rumbled.
I did.
"I am Stoneledger," he said. "I was informed of your request."
Two sheets of parchment appeared on the desk between us, pristine and faintly glowing. Alongside them lay a ceremonial dagger, its blade etched with runes so old they predated modern spellcraft.
"Blood," Stoneledger said. "Voluntary."
I did not hesitate.
I took the dagger, sliced my palm cleanly, and let the blood fall.
It splattered across both parchments, vivid red against ivory. Stoneledger muttered a spell in Gobbledegook, the words thick and layered, like law given voice. The parchments glowed, my blood sinking into them as though absorbed by thirsty earth.
Writing appeared.
At first, Stoneledger barely reacted, scanning with practiced indifference.
Then his eyes stopped moving. His pupils dilated, and his hands trembled slightly, as if the blood revealed truths that shook his composure-drawing the audience into the gravity of the moment.
His pupils dilated.
His hands trembled.
I raised an eyebrow. "May I?"
He swallowed and slid the first parchment toward me with both hands, bowing his head slightly.
GRINGOTTS INHERITANCE & LINEAGE VERIFICATION
Subject: Potter, Harry James
Age: 65
Physical Age: 10
Corporeal Status: Living
Soul Status: Composite, Dominant Soul Identified
Primary Identity:• Harry James Potter (Body)
Dominant Soul Signature:• Tom Marvolo Riddle, Son of Tom Riddle Sr. and Merope Gaunt
Soul Alignment:• Grey-Dark (Leaning Dark), Stabilized
My lips twitched.
So they could see it.
PARENTAGE & BLOOD STATUS
Father: James Fleamont Potter • Blood Status: Pureblood• Lineage: Potter
Mother: Lily Evans Potter • Blood Status: Muggleborn (Magically Augmented Bloodline Detected)• Lineage: Pureblood House of Evans (Extinct), Pureblood House of Morningstar (Dormant )
Godparents:
• Sirius Orion Black – Pureblood • Remus John Lupin – Half-Blood, werewolf • Narcissa Malfoy, nee Black
I read on.
CONFIRMED LINEAGES & TITLES
Lord of the First Imperial Line of Morningstar (Maternal)
Lord of the Most Ancient and Royal Line of Emyr / Evans (Maternal)
Lord of the Most Ancient and Royal House of Potter (Paternal)
Lord of the Most Ancient and Royal House of Black (Blood-Adoption)
Lord of the Most Ancient and Royal House of Gaunt (Ties to Riddle)
Lord of the Most Ancient and Royal House of Peverell (Cadmus, Antioch, and Ignotus Branch)
Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Slytherin (Conquer)
Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Gryffindor (Heir)
Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Ravenclaw (Conquer)
Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Hufflepuff (Conquer)
Vaults
Trust Vault (Num. 11,560)
Potter Family Vault (Num. 125)
Potter Vault (Num. 11,563)
Black Family Vault (Num. 115)
Gryffindor Vault (Num. 14)
Slytherin Vault (Num. 15)
Ravenclaw Vault (Num. 12)
Hufflepuff Vault (Num. 13)
Emrys Vault (Num. 10)
Morningstar Vault (Num. 1)
Total Assets:
602,937,456,213,254G$
652,346 Books
2,346 Magical and Non-magical Weapons
110,873 Grimoires
24,613,25,497 Family Wands
This list went on for about two more papers, so I skipped straight to the Properties.
Properties :
Potter Manor (Unplottable; unknown location)
Potter Cottage (Godric's Hollow, England)
Potter Summer House (Mykonos, Greece )
Black Manor (Wiltshire, England)
12 Grimmauld Place(Unplottable; somewhere in London, England)
Black Cottage (Villefranche-sur-Mer, France)
Black Beachhouse (Manarola, Italy)
Gryffindor Manor (Unknown)
Ravenclaw Castle (Unknown)
Slytherin Castle (Unknown)
Hufflepuff Manor (Unknown)
Emrys Castle (Unknown)
Morningstar Manor (Unknown)
Abilities, Blocks, and Current Potion Effects
Parseltongue (at 90% capacity; 10% blocked)
Parselmagic (at 10% capacity; 90% blocked)
Ancient-Magic (25% capacity; 75% blocked
Natural Occlumency (completely blocked)
Eidetic Memory (completely blocked)
Core (at 25% capacity; 75% blocked)
Soulmate (completely blocked)
Glamoured in the image of James Potter
Compulsion Charm leading to Personality Change (Laziness, Rashness)
Loyalty Potion (Subjects: Molly Weasley, Ronald Weasley, Ginevra Weasley, Hermione Granger, Albus P.W.B Dumbledore)
Hate Potion (Subjects: Slytherin House, Malfoy Family, Severus Snape)
Love Potion keyed to Ginevra Molly Weasley
All blocks keyed to Albus P.W.B. Dumbledore
Marriage Contract between Harry James Potter and Ginevra Molly Weasley, signed by Albus. P.W.B . . Dumbledore and Molly Prewett Weasley
Vault discrepancies:
10,500 Galleons a Year transferred to the vault of Albus Dumbledore starting in November 1983
500 Galleons a Year transferred and exchanged into Muggle currency to the accounts of the Dursley family beginning in November 1981
500 Galleons a Year is set to be annually transferred to the account of Ronald "Ron" Weasley beginning in July 1991
500 Galleons a Year is set to be annually transferred to the account of Hermione Granger, beginning in October 1991
Numerous tomes and books were removed from family vaults and placed in the possession of Dumbledore in October 1985
600 Galleons a Year transferred to the personal vault of Molly Weasley, starting in July 1990
400 Galleons a Year is set to be annually transferred to the account of Ginevra "Ginny" Weasley, beginning in July 1992
The Sword of Gryffindor was not returned to the vault of Gryffindor after its removal by Albus Dumbledore and taken into personal possession in May 1986
I placed the parchment down harder than necessary, not bothering to read the rest of the information. I barely knew who these Weasleys were; if my memories served me, they were the one poor Pureblood family that Lucius Malfoy seemed to love making fun of. And who was this Granger girl who appeared to be receiving things from my vault as well?
I slammed the parchment onto the obsidian desk hard enough to make the inlaid runes flare.
The goblin clerk across from me stiffened. Stoneledger's long fingers twitched, quill scraping an anxious line through the margin of a ledger older than most kingdoms.
"I want my body cleaned of this mess," I said, as I tapped the paper. "Every curse, charm, ritual brand, potion residue, blood-bound spell, and foreign enchantment removed. I would like to also get my eyesight fixed, my name to be changed. And every asset stolen from my vaults to be returned to me with interest."
Stoneledger swallowed. Then he stood, bowed so low his nose nearly brushed the floor, and fled the room at a near run, leaving me waiting as the minutes ticked buy very quickly.
Less than ten minutes passed before the vault door groaned open again, this time with deliberate weight. The goblin who entered did not skulk or scuttle like the others. He walked upright, unhurried, every step seemed to be measured. He was tall for a goblin, broad-shouldered, even his skin looked almost like rough metal. His ears were long and sharply pointed, adorned with rings of gold and black adamant. His tusks were longer than any I had seen, honed smooth and etched with fine runic script.
Jewelry draped him not as an ornament, but as a declaration—torque, rings, chains bearing sigils of conquest and oath. Power hummed around him, old and disciplined, restrained behind an iron will.
He dropped to one knee.
"Lord of the Imperial Blood," he intoned, voice deep as a struck anvil. "I am Kharzug the King of the Goblins and the manager of Gringotts."
Behind him stood two goblins unlike any others I had seen. Older. Their eyes were sharp and clinical, their movements precise. Both wore white-scaled coats woven with silver-threaded runes. Healers. True ones.
I regarded the kneeling king for a long moment, then inclined my head a fraction.
"Get up."
He stood, meeting my gaze without flinching.
"I have come to assist you in what you need done," he said, his voice low, precise, and somehow measured, even as it carried across the vaulted chamber. He moved to the chair where Stoneledger had sat, setting the tone immediately—business, order, and control. No theatrics, no unnecessary conversation. This was professional in every sense, and I had never seen goblin authority handled with such skill.
Stoneledger returned silently, clutching a stack of parchments bound in red cord and sealed with black wax. They hovered above the desk before settling neatly between us, as if placed by invisible hands. The documents smelled faintly of iron and old magic, the kind that could outlast generations.
"Shall we begin?" Kharzug asked, opening the first scroll with a precision that made my fingers itch to touch the arcane markings. He motioned for me to start.
Step by step, we went through each legal procedure.
Once we had gone through everything, I was handed a quill made of silver and the document pushed to my side. Kharzug watched every stroke. "Once you have signed and wrote your new name, the documents shall be sent to the Ministry of Magic to be filed and documented."
"Say I want to use my current name as an alias and use something like a homunculus to go buy my true name and take on the eye of the public until I am ready to reveal it to the world, how will that work."
"Ah I see," Kharzug muttered, understanding what I wanted to do. "Do not worry, I shall take care of everything, your old and new name will be documented as two different people. Even the Hogwarts Ledger shall send your acceptance letter addressed to Harry Potter."
"That will very much work for me." I muttered as I started writing my new name. "Don't want anyone to connect that the young boy who lived is none other than Lord Morningstar."
Hadrian Marvolo Morningstar.
Kharzug nodded after inspecting my handwriting. "I shall have more legal papers drawn up so nothing gets in your way."
Next came the list of stolen items. Every vault I owned, every treasure taken over decades, was catalogued with goblin thoroughness. There were hundreds of entries: enchanted jewels, ancient scrolls, artifacts of power, coins of magical provenance, and items no wizard could legally claim. Kharzug's sharp eyes scanned the numbers as I read them aloud.
"Total stolen has come out to about 659,438 Galleons and 74 sickles, plus several hundred artifacts of significant magical influence," I recited.
"Compensation, restitution, and retrieval will be processed immediately," Kharzug said, his claws tapping the desk as he verified the calculations. "All costs covered by Gringotts. Your assets shall be returned intact, magical protections maintained. If anything is destroyed, something of equal value will be taken to replace it."
"That does work for me."
"Very well, I shall send some Goblins to retrieve everything, I believe that it shall take no longer than two years or more to get them all back to your vaults."
Finally, Kharzug reached for the medical files. He spread them on the desk, scanning each service offered: curse removal, potion detoxification, magical core stabilization, sensory correction, neurological cleansing. He paused when his gaze fell on the section marked Children's Services, and I felt him stiffen.
I leaned back, meeting his eye. "Do not worry, I find no offense to it." I said simply.
He exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing, and then signed the documents with deliberate authority. "As you wish, Lord Morningstar. Only the finest shall attend. I have selected the best healers we have, Dr. Scalecleft who is a master of curses, charms, and potions. While Matron Ironvein is a specialist in a wizards magical channel and able to undo any damage that has been caused by Dumbledore and bring you to your full glory."
Two goblins stepped forward quietly. A male and female both dressed in scrubs and looking at me in respect as they awaited their orders. "Prepare the sanctum. Begin assessment. Ensure Lord Morningstar's wishes are fulfilled in full."
Even in action, he moved like a commander. Every movement was professional, every decision deliberate. No hint of arrogance or haste, only the weight of centuries of goblin bureaucracy and honed efficiency.
As the last documents ignited in a controlled blaze—sealing my new name and restored holdings—I felt the air itself hum with obedience. Magic recognized authority here. It bent, shifted, waited for my next command.
Kharzug inclined his head. "Lord Morningstar, I would ask the honor of serving as your personal account sovereign."
I laughed, sharp and precise. "It will be an honor to have your assistance. The House of Morningstar shall forever see the Goblins as our allies and friends."
He studied me long and silent, tusks bared in a grin that was both predatory and loyal. "May the blood of your enemies mark the roads you walk, and may your name be carved into eternity by fire and gold."
"And may your vaults never empty, your blades never dull, and your glory draw you ever closer to riches unending," I replied without hesitation.
Kharzug gestured once more toward the healers. "You requested the best that we have and I have selected only the best to help our Lord," he said.
I nodded. The chamber seemed smaller, but the power inside it was infinite. For the first time, every thread of my life—name, magic, wealth, and body—was mine. And now, nothing could stop me.