2

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Stress and emotion don't go away, even when I walk into a white building. I'm consciously ignoring the anti-theft verdict. It's suspected to be a kind of magical offer that everyone who reads a poem accepts. There are only three wizards in the hall at six in the morning. The light from the oval windows pierces the dusk of the hall, the lamps are lit at the ticket offices. Testament words:

"Good morning, I'd like to speak to the Potter family's agent!"

"How can I introduce you, young man?"

"I am known as Harry James Potter, sir."

"Follow me."

I followed the goblin into the inner hallway, and a minute later I found myself in a small conference room. The walls were lined with dark brown panels, which looked harmonious in the background of the oak and leather furniture. Spherical lamps illuminated the room with warm light. And despite the gloomy tones in the setting, I was quite comfortable. The door opened, letting a Potter agent in.

"Good morning, my name is Hookhawk, I'm an agent of the Potter family. How may I help you, mister?" The goblin mockingly squinted.

"Harry Evans, nice to meet you, Master Hookhawk. I'm interested in two important questions. May I claim the title of Lord Potter? Do I have any safes available? I'm also interested in other services, which, with your permission, we'll talk about later."

"Given the way you introduced yourself, Mr. Evans, you must be aware that your parents have not contracted a magical marriage. I mean, in terms of magic, you're a bastard. You can try wearing a Potter ring, but it won't accept you until you're seventeen. Now you have one safe with 50000 galleons, but you have a limit of 2000 galleons per year. This year's limit is already exhausted by your guardian."

"And who is my guardian?"

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore."

"As far as I'm aware of my parents' will, it's not listed. Master Hookhawk, how is it that Dumbledore became my guardian? This moral freak despised my parents' will, committed kidnapping and gave me to the Muggles. And now I find out he's robbing my safe."

"As Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, he froze the reading of your parents' will. And appointed himself your guardian."

I closed my eyes and smiled. I found myself in Potter's cruelest living version of the world. My life will be bright, but short. My affairs are worse than those of poor redheaded blood traitors! I can't get money and a title, I'm still young, and my parents weren't married magically at all. I am a bastard! Dumbledore is a normal politician in this world who's been fighting for power for a hundred years. The King does not care about pawn problems.

And goblins don't care about my problems.

I opened my eyes and saw the smile of Potter's agent. What a bastard! For your own sake, you bastard, I'll be a Dark Lord and I'll destroy all those below yard height. And someone else dares to say that honor is important for goblins. Plus another entry in my notebook of death: Dumbledore, Tommy, animals, now here come the little shit bankers.

"I'm interested in emancipation, or another method that allows me to be independent of this bearded bastard. He'll get me married to some blood traitor."

"The methods of emancipation are simple. You need to lead a family or start your own. You can also be magically adopted. And as for your engagement, you'll be upset, Mr. Evans. There's a marriage contract registered with Ginevra Weasley."

List of Doing Good and Acting Justice, entry number five: Weasley's blood traitors. All right, let's get to work! Won't the goblins hand me over to the main fighter for the ideals of the Light of the Land?

"Master Hookhawk, I wonder what position Gringotts will take in our relationship with the "guardian." I am interested in Dumbledore not getting any information about me or my actions."

"Since you haven't withdrawn any money, we don't have to report anything to Dumbledore. But we will have to answer a direct question about you."

I'm finished. The last hope of a free life is dashed. The goblins will betray me. Perhaps this is my last visit here, I must make the most of it.

"I would like to compile my genealogy and be tested for generic gifts."

"Mr. Evans, the procedure for compiling a family tree costs 30 to 150 galleons, depending on the number of generations. If there's nothing unexpected in your genealogy, there's no point in being tested for generic gifts. You're going to compile a family tree?"

"Can you pay in pounds at the standard Gringotts rate?"

"That's right."

"I'm going to write a family tree."

"Wait."

The Goblin has left the room. Five minutes later, an old goblin in ceremonial clothing like a Jedi's robes entered the room. He brought a tray with several boxes.

"I am Sherstem, the ritualist. How many ascending generations do you wish to see in the genealogy?"

"Four generations. Great-grandfathers, great-grandmothers, their brothers and sisters, and all descendants."

"It will cost 60 galleons. I'll need three drops of blood to make up the family tree."

The goblin pulled out of the box and gave me a silver ritual knife, more like a stylet, it was long and straight. I easily cut my palm, dripped blood on the parchment served, and squeezed my hand into my fist. The goblin grabbed the parchment and turned it towards him, looking hard. A minute later, he spoke:

"Nothing unexpected, Mr. Evans. Father, James Potter, pureblood. "Mother, Lily Evans, Muggle-born. You were born out of a magical marriage, so you're a bastard. After seventeen years, you can try on the Potter ring. You're related to the Black family but too distant. The title is likely to go to Draco Malfoy," he gave me a tube-rolled parchment with these words. "I'm sorry, but you don't have any generic gifts in that case. Besides, I can only look at you and say that you had a difficult childhood. And it depresses you. The magical core, far from the magical sources, has developed poorly. Alas, you are equal in strength to a Muggleborn."

Bitch new life! Where are my bonuses? Where are my vaults, manors and other benefits? Where are the Slytherin and Peverell titles along with the artifacts? Where are the friendly greetings of Death?

That's where I've been sneaked in by too much memorable cold. Roger that. Sorry! Thank you for hitting me! I'll work it out. Voldemort's Horcruxes. Mission accomplished! And I heard not even a sound, but a shadow of a sound. A carefree woman's laughter. The frost along the ridge again: it was the last thing that came to me then.

The news about the marriage contract and magical health upset me thoroughly, and the "friendly reminder" has finished. What else needs to be specified while I'm at the bank? There was a funny story where Harry was doing it with the help of the older Blacks. It's not exactly Potter's normal world. Signus and Cassiopeia may still be alive. Maybe Arcturus is still alive. I took a closer look at the family tree. I'm out of luck. In this world, Signus and Arcturus died earlier this year.

"Master, what does this blue frame around the name mean?"

"Lady Cassiopeia Black has fallen into a magical coma and is legally incompetent."

I see. It's clear. At Hogwarts, if I took the slightest interest in my family, any pureblood would enlighten me. At least Draco Malfoy. And I'm sure there are reference books in the library. Then there's the correspondence, and then I could learn more. Here's an old bearded bastard and cleaned up anyone who could protect me. They weren't aware of his plans. They didn't interfere with his plans. They could have interfered with his plans.

I have to finish my business at the bank. Hookhawk has just returned.

"Master Hookhawk, I'd like to exchange fifteen thousand pounds for galleons. I need the money in a wallet with a blood tie from loss and theft."

"It's easy to arrange. But I suppose you want something else?"

"I need amulets. An amulet blocking my search by any means necessary. A second amulet with muggle-repellent or attention-diverting charms. A third amulet that blocks Legilimency. A fourth amulet that defines poisons. A fifth amulet that hides appearances. Artifacts of your choice, I'm willing to spend up to two-thirds of the exchange money on them. Take the money for the ritual from the amount you'll be exchanging, too. I suggest we finish this meeting."

The goblin didn't press any buttons, but a minute later, another goblin walked in the door without knocking.

"The master cashier of Stoneсut will help you exchange money and acquire the amulets of protection. Goodbye, Mr. Evans."