Snape's mouth curled slightly, whether it was in a smile or sneer he wasn't sure, but either way it was something. He enjoyed knowing he could get a reaction out of the stoic professor. The professor gave a curt nod, striding away and out of the legendary bank, before another snarling goblin led him down the dusty golden halls of Gringotts and into an office that was more an exceptionally small ballroom. He sat down at the gesture of long bony fingers and waited with as much patience as his tainted sanity allowed him to.
The goblin pulled out a stone basin that had bronze inlaid runes etched into its gravelly grey surface, as well as a long silver dagger than had emeralds glittering in its hilt. He eyed them, already understanding the outline of what he had to do. His blood would be needed, the little formality the closest the world got to the Dark Arts these times, as well as a few pesky words and enchanted parchment.
At Ragnok's instruction, he slashed violently across his pale palm. The blood welled up and spilled in seconds; the thick red life-support rushing out of the wound and as he curled his fingers, into the basin. It collected and he waited for the goblin to tell him when to stop; he did so when it was about a third full. His cut was sealed with dittany, the stinging as it healed barely noticeable as he was watched Ragnok pour a liquid duck-egg blue into his blood. The potion swirled, slowly mixing with the red, becoming a morbid purple.
Moonlit parchment was procured and lain flat against the polished oak desk- held at each corner by baby gems. Killing curse green watched in fascination and self-assurance as the mixture was wiped across the parchment by the same dagger he had used to acquire access to his blood. It danced and twirled for a few moments, slowly receding into tight letters of clear print; beginning, continuing a list.
Heir Apparent of Slytherin by Magic and Spiritual Adoption: Lays claim to the Heir's Vaults and other assets in the case of Lord Slytherin's death.
Lord of Peverell by Blood and Magic upon 11th Birthday: Lays claim to all vaults, residents and other assets.
Scion and Ward of Lestrange by Blood Adoption: Lays claim to access of the wards' vaults and residence
Scion and Ward of Black by Blood: Lays claim to access of the wards' vaults and residence
He accepted the Lordship ring for Peverell and Heir ring for Slytherin, slipping them onto his finger, absently watching as they melded and shrunk to fit. He looked back at Ragnok before stating, "I want to claim Physical Aesthetics of Slytherin and Peverell."
Ragnok nodded stiffly, summoning the required elements. They were simply two vials of the same potion with different additives; one held the three brother Peverells' blood, and the other held Salazar Slytherin's. The head of each founding family to begin their affairs with Gringotts all had to hand over a pint of blood for future heirs or scions just for this matter. They were handed over to him; immediately downed.
A burning, tingling sensation pricked every pore of his skin as needles before a sudden rush of ice attacked his veins and froze over his blood. He didn't cry out, nor flinch or wince as most were prone to doing as their bodies were forced to morph against the original DNA. He sat there waiting for it to end as though he was merely waiting for his room key in a hotel. When it was over, he opened his eyes- as he had closed them during the process- and wandlessly summoned a full length mirror. Harry stood before it, analysing every changed detail.
His hair remained raven black though became a silky flat naturally, with a slight wave in the top strands that were long enough to do so. His cheekbones were higher, sharper, and his face, chin, longer and more defined. His body had been stretched an inch or two taller and gained a lither than starved look to it; the weeks of good meals since his release had helped in losing the gaunt dead look Azkaban gave its inhabitants. His eyebrows took on a further arched look, though not so much that he looked as though he was stuck in perpetual surprise and disbelief. His eyes were the most interesting however; ice blue spotted in large groups among the Avada Kedavra green, constantly shifting a changing as his mood did. He brought forth hatred and anger and the green was back in full force; he calmed and it receded to an equal mingling balance. It was obvious to him that had just succeeded every other first year in looks and he was pleased. Beauty was a dangerous weapon.
"Is that all Lord Peverell?" Ragnok asked stiffly.
"Upon becoming Lord, I was automatically emancipated, correct?"
"Only in Wizengamot affairs," Ragnok answered. "And in court. Lord Slytherin is now your legal guardian; he shall be informed in due course."
"Then that is all. Thank you for your time Ragnok- I can find my own way out."
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