Chapter Text
The grandfather clock sitting on the left side of the fire strikes midnight, pulling Harry from his thoughts.
I guess I should probably go to bed. A bed does sound kind of nice. Besides, Kreacher won’t go to his cupboard until I’m asleep.
A pop is heard as Kreacher appears in front of Harry.
“Kreacher would likes to be reminding Master Harry that it be his birthday now.”
Automatically, Harry responds, “Thank you Kreacher.”
Wait. It’s my birthday. Huh, guess I’m nineteen now.
As soon as he had that thought, Kreacher left, taking Harry’s empty tankard of butterbeer with him.
Deciding that he would indeed go to bed, Harry stands up and begins to stretch.
Mid-stretch Harry hears a tapping at the back door. Harry makes his way through the kitchen to the back door, and opens it, not worried about his safety because of the wards he put up around Grimmauld Place. At first Harry could see nothing but his back garden, but then an owl flew right at him, flapping their wings in his face. He stumbled on the step going up into the kitchen and fell onto his back.
Ow that hurt. Bloody bird.
“Stop you menace.”
Harry tries to grab the owl’s wings to stop them from hitting him, but it becomes unnecessary as the owl suddenly stops and lands on his chest sticking out it’s leg.
Looking at the bird that attacked him with his anger on full display, he asks “Couldn’t you have done that without all of the hitting?”
The owl just looks down imperiously at Harry and sticks it’s leg out further.
Harry sighs in exasperation and unties the damn letter from its leg. The bird quickly flew out of the still open back door. Harry didn’t even bother opening it, simply getting up and shutting the back door.
Harry just stands there thinking about his continued bad luck, and wondering if it will ever improve. He looks down at the letter and sighs.
I guess I’m not going to bed right now after all. He walks back to his chair beside the fire, exhaling loudly on the way down. He finally looks down at the letter in his hands and gasps in shock.
This letter is from Gringotts! I didn’t even know they sent letters. No wonder that owl was such a menace. I wonder what they want. He breaks the Gringotts seal and pulls the letter out of the envelope, setting it on the side table next to him. Gently unfolding the parchment that looks older than any parchment he has ever seen, he begins to read:
To the Lord of The Most Noble House of Potter,
It has come to the attention of Gringotts that you never came to Gringotts upon your seventeenth birthday to take an inheritance test to receive your inheritance. It has also come to our attention that one Sirius Orion Black’s will has never been read. We have recently come across many similar abnormalities within the bank and expect to find more. We are attempting to contact all those involved in this matter, and have no fear, the parties responsible will face the wrath of The Goblin Nation for these grievous injustices. We expect your arrival at Gringotts at 8:00am on the morning of July 31st.
King Ragnuk the 22 nd of The Goblin Nation
A stunned Harry drops his hands to his lap, gripping the letter strongly.
Okay Harry, just start at the top and work your way down before you become mad.
Harry lifts his hands up, bringing the letter closer to his face.
Okay. How was I supposed to know I needed to go to Gringotts when I became of age? I know about the trace breaking that night, but what does turning seventeen have to do with Gringotts? I already have the Potter fortune. And I’ve never heard of an inheritance test. Why didn’t Ron tell me any of this? Or anyone else for that matter? As for Sirius, I didn’t know he had made a will. Wouldn’t he have told me about this?
Rubbing his temples, Harry comes to the conclusion that thinking about it is a moot point until his appointment at Gringotts. Thinking about the appointment he looks at the clock which now says that it is 12:42 am. Seven hours.
Harry wakes up at 6:03am, his body accustomed to the early hours. His fingers search for his classes on his nightstand, eyes still closed. He grabs them and slowly sits up to put them on. He finally opens his eyes.
Needing to pee and wanting a bright light to try and see a bit better he stumbles up and out of his room, and down the hall to the bathroom.
Gliding his hand on the wall after opening the door he switches on the light.
He goes to the counter and looks at the mirror. Seeing is hair is messier than usual, he combs it out three times. Now its back to its usual mess.
He goes to the toilet and finally gets to have his morning pee. He sighs in relief and heads to the sink. He brushes his teeth, taking one last look at himself before heading back to his room to dress for the day.
Once inside his room he goes to the chair sitting next to his dresser to retrieve the clothes he laid out the night before. On the chair along with his briefs and socks are dark blue jeans, a dark green sweater and a black cloak made out of plain, sturdy black cotton. His black loafers lay at the foot of the chair. They are neither too casual or too dressy. Which is precisely Harry's style.
He casts a quick wandless and wordless tempus to check the time. 6:27am. Grabbing the letter where he left it on his desk, he heads downstairs to eat the breakfast that Kreacher puts on the table every morning at 6:30am without fail. He's lucky his body is trained to wake up early because of his life at The Dursleys. He shuddered to think of what Kreacher would have done to try and wake him up.