Harry Potter, Unexpected Animagus

With the love of a good woman, Harry becomes more confident and learns to handle the embarrassment that comes from being a teenage boy as well as an unexpected animagus. Set during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Severe Ron bashing ahead.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/9051968/1/Harry-Potter-Unexpected-Animagus

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5. Chapter 5

Harry and Hermione waited patiently in Professor Dumbledore's office for the floo to turn green, signalling the secure passage to Gringotts had been opened by the Potter accounts manager, Knutsack. It had been two weeks since they had last met the goblin with the cringe worthy name. During that time, Sirius had explained that the memory vial which had been left for Harry by his father was keyed to only work in a Potter Family pensive. The only one that Sirius knew about was located in the Potter vaults, thus Harry and Hermione's impending trip.

"Are you sure you want me to go with you, Harry? The memory your father left you will most likely be pretty personal," Hermione asked.

Without taking his eyes from the fireplace, Harry reached down and took Hermione's hand. "I'm not really sure how healthy relationships are supposed to work, but I'm pretty sure when a guy realizes his relationship with his girlfriend is serious, he is supposed to take her home to meet his parents. This is the closest we'll be able to manage," he replied, his voice shaking slightly.

Hermione squeezed his hand reassuringly. "So Mr. Potter, are you suggesting our relationship is more than just a school fling?" she asked him teasingly to lighten her boyfriend's mood. As usual Harry took her plans and turned them 90 degrees.

Harry finally tore his gaze away from the fireplace and looked at Hermione. Even though he knew she was teasing him, he decided to to tell her exactly how he felt. "To answer your question Ms. Granger, I guess I should tell you that when I think about the future, my greatest wish is to have a family where I can be the best husband and father I can possibly be. I honestly can't imagine that future without you being my wife and the mother of our children," he told her from his heart.

Hermione felt like her chest was going to burst, her love for Harry swelling. To vent some of the pressure, she grabbed Harry and pulled him into a snog that promised much more later. After an indeterminate time, they broke off the kiss when they heard an annoyed sigh coming from the fireplace.

"Considering how the Potter men seem to spend most of their free time, it's amazing there has only been one child per generation," Knutsack muttered. He met Harry's eyes and then jerked his head back towards his office. "Time is money, Mr. Potter," was all he said before he withdrew his head from the floo.

The young couple shared an embarrassed smile before Harry gestured towards the floo. "After you, love," Harry offered. Hermione gave him a quick peck on the cheek before stepping into the glowing green flames. Harry reflexively rubbed his cheek where Hermione had kissed him, still not believing his luck on being her boyfriend. With a goofy smile on his face, he followed her through the floo.

Harry's smile fled rapidly as the floo spit him out, causing him to slide across the polished stone floor of Knutsack's office. The floor was polished so well, Harry could easily see his account manager laughing at him in the reflection. He could also see a display case on one wall that had the dried and tanned remains of several wizards' family jewels. Harry quickly diverted his eyes so as not to have think about that goblin practice.

"I see you inherited something from your mother other than just her emerald eyes," Knutsack chuckled. He watched Harry's head snap up to look directly at him, his eyes hungry for information about his parents. "Your mother was equally terrible with magic forms of travel. Her inability to ever land on her feet when she came out of floo became so legendary, the Director himself gave us permission to use a goblin made portkey to come and go from the bank," he mused.

Harry remembered the horrible sensations he had gone through on the few times had used a portkey. If anything, he hated it more than floo travel. However, if it worked for his mother, he wondered if perhaps he should look into asking for the same permission.

Before he could ask, Hermione joined the conversation. "Did using a portkey help Harry's mother?" she inquired.

Knutsack chuckled again. "Um… not really. The first time she was scheduled to use it, the Director was waiting for her personally in the receiving room. As soon as your mother landed, she was violently ill all over him. Even though she tried to explain the mess away as her morning sickness do to her being pregnant with young Mr. Potter here, the Director revoked her portkey privileges on the spot," he explained, a grin of fond remembrance on his lips. Harry decided not to ask for portkey permission after all.

Knutsack waited for Harry to get up off the floor before ushering the two humans towards the door and down a corridor that ended with a door covered in warnings in every possible language. The English version stated, "Bank employees only. All others shall be disemboweled with a blunt spoon while being forced to listen to Yoko Ono songs."

Hermione paused before the door and gulped audibly. "Considering I like my insides where they are and I have no intent of clawing out my own eardrums, are you sure Harry and I should be using this passage?" she asked.

Knutsack didn't answer right away. He looked like he was weighing options in his head. "Normally, I wouldn't take any non-bank employees this way, but there has been… ah… well, let's just say an incident with some of the bank's guard dragons that has blocked the use of the railcars for at least a day. However, since the Potters have always been considered an ally of the Goblin Nation, I'm fairly confident any of my superiors we might meet will allow you safe passage," he replied. "Now before we go any farther, I will need you to both promise that you will not reveal to any non-bank employees anything you might see or hear in this part of the bank," he demanded. After Harry and Hermione both gave their verbal pledge to keep whatever was beyond that door confidential, Knutsack nodded his head in acceptance. "Alright, let's go then," he stated as he held the door open.

Knutsack led them down a short hallway where the walls and ceiling were of the same polished stone as his office floor. The tunnel led to a longer passage lined with ten double doors on each side. Next to each set of doors were a pair of buttons. Knutsack led them to the nearest set of doors and pressed the bottom button. After a moment, a familiar ding sounded and the doors slid aside.

"It's an elevator," Harry said, stating the obvious.

"Of course it's an elevator," Knutsack replied. "You don't honestly think we goblins would waste our time taking those ridiculous mine carts whenever we needed to visit one of our clients' vaults, do you?" he inquired rhetorically. "We only use the minecarts to scare the piss out of either the sane or nearly sane wizards and witches," he added. Knutsack made it a point to look directly at Harry, having heard of the young wizard's reactions on his first trip down into the vaults. "The summer of your father and Mr. Black's 16th birthdays found them visiting their trust vaults everyday for two months. It was only after an audit of those vaults and learning they were only withdrawing a sickle a day did we realize they were there only for the cart ride. Like I said, the purpose is to frighten sane or nearly sane wizards," Knutsack shared.

After the warnings on the door and the seriousness of Knutsack before they were allowed entry into the employee only area of the bank, Harry had been imagining that all sorts of strange and wondrous things were in store. Something as mundane as an elevator hadn't been on his mental radar at all. The mundaneness of the elevators was reinforced when music started playing as they descended into the depths of the banks.

"At least the music is better than in most of the elevators I've been in," Hermione told Knutsack. "I definitely prefer David Bowie songs to Muzak," she added while glancing around the elevator. She missed the slight wince Knutsack made when she mentioned the famous rockstar.

The doors opened and Knutsack led them out of the elevator and into a series of passageways that were made of interlocking blocks of stone rather than the smooth, polished stonework of the passages above them. They were at their first intersection when the blare of a ram's horn sounded from in front of them. A second blare from the horn had Knutsack looking like he wanted to be anywhere else but there at that moment . "We are more screwed than a male House-Elf wearing fishnet tights alone with Lucius Malfoy," Knutsack swore with passion.

Harry was stunned and more than a little disturbed by the phrase his account manager had used. He was about to ask him about it when Hermione grabbed his arm. "Harry, I know what you are thinking. For the love of all that is holy, please don't ask Knutsack about that phrase," Hermione pleaded.

"Why not?" Harry inquired.

Hermione looked a little pale as she thought about things. "Knutsack might just answer you," she replied.

After a moment of deep thought, Harry nodded in agreement. "You a have a valid point there," he conceded.

The horns blared again, this time from much closer down the hallway. Without saying anything, Knutsack went down on his knees and bowed his head so low it was almost touching the floor. Soon after, a tall man with a large goblin entourage came around the corner. The man had pale skin with white blonde hair that looked like he had just had a intimate encounter with a light socket. He was wearing a blue jacket with countless jewels sewn all over it. His gray leggings were so tight, it was obvious he was not a pure blood wizard. The pointy ears and dramatically arched eyebrows gave that part away as well. The tall man saw Harry and Hermione and stormed over to them, his expression devoid of anything that resembled pleasantness. Harry was trying to come to a conclusion about this strange man, the various aspects of his first impression clashing. For her part, Hermione stood stone still except for her eyes which were blinking rapidly in confusion.

The tall man stopped only a foot from where Knutsack bowed on the floor. "Would someone please tell me why two humans, who are clearly not bank employees, walking around the restricted corridors?" the man asked sharply. "If I do not get a good answer soon, heads WILL roll! And I mean that literally. We recently added a steep ramp next to the executioner's block with a hole at the bottom. The executioners were getting a bit bored so I thought I might give them something similar to a putting green to keep things fresh," the man told them.

Knowing he needed to explain things, Knutsack looked up, putting his pointed nose only inches from the large bulge in the man's leggings. "King Jareth, there's no need to get testes- I mean testy- ah nuts- I mean crap!" Knutsack spouted, his line of thinking broken by what was right in front of his nose.

Jareth scowled down at the goblin in front of him. "Knutsack, isn't it?" he inquired, thinking that he remembered the goblin's name.

"Yes, and a rather impressive one at that," Knutsack replied in awe. "I mean… yes, my king. I am Senior Account Manager Knutsack," he answered, his brain finally getting back into gear.

"Well then Knutsack, please explain why you brought two non-employees down here and why I shouldn't turn you three into putting practice for my favorite axegoblins," Jareth ordered.

Knutsack swallowed hard and stood up, wanting to face his death on his feet like any good goblin should. "I'm sorry, my King, but there was a problem on the main cart rails leading to the more secure vaults. Somehow a thief had made it all the way to the dragons and thought that if they fed the dragons, then perhaps the dragons would befriend them and let the thief plass. Unfortunately for us and the thief, they fed each dragon a large goat stomach filled with muggle beer. We think the thief was under the impression that an inebriated dragon would be easier to deal with than a sober one," he explained hastily.

Hermione snapped out of her shock and frowned at what she heard. "Oh no… that's awful. The poor dragons," she muttered. After a moment she added, "... the poor cleaning crew!" When she saw Harry's confused expression she explained. "The primary three ingredients in beer are wheat, barley, and hops. Barley gluten is so similar to wheat gluten that it reacts the same in the bodies of people or creatures that can't breakdown wheat gluten," she stated. After Harry's first explosive introduction to the horrors of being gluten intolerant, she had owled her mother for any information she could get on Celiac disease and conditions similar to it. Harry cringed when he understood what she was saying.

For his part, Jareth also looked a little disturbed. "Remind me, Scrotum, how many dragons do we have in that area," he ordered.

"It's Knutsack, my King," Knutsack managed to say.

Jareth glared down at the goblin, bending over slightly, his eyes full of mischief. "Are you correcting me, Scrotum?" he inquired, his voice full of mock sweetness.

"No, my King!" Knutsack replied quickly.

Jareth straightened up and put his hands on his hips. "I didn't think so," he said in an offhand manner. "How many dragons, Testiclepouch?" he asked again.

Trying not to let his sigh be noticed, Knutsack simply said, "Seven."

"Seven? Seven dragons with wheat poisoning? Dear gods, it must be wall to wall flaming dragon shit up there," Jareth muttered. Shaking his head to clear it of that foul image, Jareth asked, "What happened to the thief?"

For the first time since he had laid eyes on his king, Knutsack smiled. "We've been able to recover only about 25% of the thief's body. Apparently the thief was standing directly behind one of the dragons when the inevitable result of dragon wheat poisoning was… released explosively," he replied.

The passageway was still as everybody let that sink in. Jareth was the first to break the silence. "Well… normally we deal with thieves in a different way, but I can't honestly say I could come up with a more appropriate punishment for this particular thief," he stated. Nodding his head as he made another decision Jareth moved his arm in a sweeping motion to point back the way he had come. "Knutsack, your explanation of why you brought these two down here is acceptable, if just barely. You may proceed," he decreed with a flourish.

"Thank you, my King!" Knutsack said with feeling. He grabbed Harry's arm and started to drag him away. They only made it a few steps before he realized Hermione had stayed behind.

Jareth looked down at Hermione, wondering why she had stayed. She quickly let him know. "Forgive me for asking, your highness, but I'm muggleborn and well… you see, my dad has been a rabid fan and I grew up on the music and…" Hermione stated, not quite sure how to phrase her question.

When she had mentioned muggleborn, Jareth knew what she was asking, causing him to grin despite himself. "Everyone should have a hobby, don't you think? Mine happens to be singing. David is my stage name," he told her.

Without realizing she was speaking, Hermione muttered, "That actually explains a lot." She blushed when she realized she had said that out loud. "Sorry, like I said. My dad and I big fans," she apologized.

Jareth's grin grew into a full smile. "Then I'm even more glad that I didn't have you killed. It would quite a shame to kill someone with such obvious great taste in music," he chuckled before turning away from Hermione. As he walked away, she could hear him singing softly, "Dance… magic dance… magic… dance… magic dance… magic… put that baby spell on me… " Hermione caught up with Knutsack and Harry as she tried to wrap her head around the thought of the Goblin King pretending to be a muggle rockstar who then pretended to be the Goblin King in a movie.

Before Jareth turned the corner of an intersecting corridor, one of his advisors tugged on his arm and whispered something in the King's ear. Jareth paused and then looked back at Harry. "Are you certain? You know humans all look alike to me," he told his advisor. The small goblin with the slightly brown tint to his wrinkled green skin nodded yes. "Wait!" Jareth yelled towards the humans and Knutsack. The Goblin King hurried over to them and took a closer look at Harry. "Are you Harry Potter, the godson of Sirius Black?" he inquired with eagerness.

"Yes," Harry answered.

"I see. Would you mind telling me where your godfather has been for the past decade? I've tried to get in touch with him and my owls just return with their mail being unread," Jareth asked.

"Well, until last year he had been wrongly imprisoned in Azkaban. He broke out and has been on the run ever since then," Harry replied, not willing to give away Sirius' current location.

"That's splendid. I was worried he might still be angry with me over that little misunderstanding regarding the twin bikini models and the french poodle at the rubber chicken factory. Sirius told me he wasn't angry the last time I saw him, but you can never tell with humans. Anyway, I need you to give a message to him," Jareth informed Harry as the King held out his hand as if waiting for something. When nothing happened he sighed wearily and said, "Well… come on, paper and pen." His goblin entourage nearly fell over themselves as they checked their pockets for what their king needed. Eventually they were able to produce a self inking quill and a piece of parchment. The Goblin King quickly wrote out his message, folded it, and handed it to Harry. "I'm performing a surprise concert at a little muggle pub in Soho next weekend. I think it would be marvelous if your godfather could be there," he told Harry. Jareth gave them a huge grin and then spread his hands over his head dramatically. "Imagine the headlines - Bowie and Boardman together again after more than ten years!" he shouted, turned on his heel, and sashayed away.

When the Goblin King finally did make it out of their sight, Hermione turned to face Knutsack. "Why is your king over six feet tall with pale skin and the rest of you are short with green skin?" she asked.

Knutsack sighed loudly. "He wears heels. As for the rest of what you're asking Ms. granger, that is something we Goblins never speak about to outsiders," he replied.

"Fair enough," Harry said, not wanting Hermione's thirst for all types of knowledge to put them in a difficult position.

Knutsack nodded his head in agreement with Harry and then led them farther into the bank. They eventually came to a door that led them back out into the large caverns that housed the vaults. A short walk led them to a massive set of steel doors without any type of decoration or markings to distinguish them from any of the other set of doors in that particular cavern. The account manager banged a complex rhythm on the door with his fist, never striking the same place twice. When he was done, the doors swung open on their own. "After you, Mr. Potter," Knutsack stated graciously as he stepped to the side.

Without anything verbal between them, Hermione put her hand in Harry's as they walked into the Potter Family vault. It was impossible to tell the true size of the vault as it was pitch black with the only light coming from a magical glow globe suspended over a dark gray, granite basin covered in runes. In the bowl of the basin was a pool of what looked like liquid gold. It looked just like Sirius had described, making his instructions on how to use it easier. Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Harry approached the basin and placed his hand on a carved relief that looked like a stylized letter "P". He took his other hand away from Hermione only long enough to uncork the crystal vial and pour the memories of his father into the swirling gold mixture before he took her hand again. She gave her boyfriend's hand a reassuring squeeze before they both stuck their faces into the now swirling gold and silver mixture. With a flash of light, they were transported into the memories of a man who had been dead for over a decade.

Harry and Hermione felt a short sensation of falling before they landed lightly on their feet inside a comfortable looking sitting room with the furniture done in luxurious gold and red fabrics. A young man barely in his twenties stood in the center of the room. He was wearing a pair of comfortable slacks and a black tee shirt with the Hobgoblins logo screen printed on the front. The man was wearing a pair of wire frame glasses and had messy, black hair identical to Harry's. Hermione gave the young James Potter an appraising look and liked what she saw considering Harry was most likely going to look even more like his father as he matured.

"Hello, Harry," James said, his voice a strange mixture of sadness and pride. "It's my greatest wish that you never have to see this memory, but if you are, that means I've moved on to the next great adventure as Dumbledore would put it… or as we Potters might say, I've gone and snuffed it," he said, a small smirk on his face that Hermione recognized as the one Harry got when he appreciated the humor in some grim situation. James snapped his fingers as if he had just remembered something. "Right, before we go on, I should probably tell you that I had this memory encoded in a special way beyond being able to played in just a Potter Family pensive. You can pause or go backwards in the memory, but you can not stop it or fast forward past the last point you have seen. The verbal commands are 'pause' and 'rewind'. I'm not exactly sure what that second word means, but your mother always found it easier to say than reverse memory. Harry, I set up the memory this way because what I'm going to tell you over the next couple of hours is very, very important and I don't want you to miss out," James told him. "So, without further ado, Harry James Potter, it is now time for THE TALK," he announced.

"PAUSE!" Harry shouted, his cheeks blushing. Hermione bit her lip to keep from laughing at how red Harry became when he realized that she was going to be right beside him as his father explained the birds and bees to him. For his part, Harry was wondering if you died of embarrassment in a pensive memory, did you die in real life? "I'm so sorry, Hermione. I… I had no idea what was in this memory," he stammered.

Hermione gave Harry a quick hug to reassure him. "Harry, it's okay. My mum gave me THE TALK last year. It will be interesting to see a wizarding take on the material," she told him. "Besides, it's not like we have much of a choice now that we are in the memory," she added.

Harry closed his eyes, took another deep breath, and reopened his eyes after he was able to let go of some of his embarrassment. "I guess you're right," he agreed. "Okay, Dad. Let's get this over with… RESUME," he called out.

"You are probably wondering why I chose to give you the talk via a pensive memory rather than have someone else give it to you. I don't want to embarrass your mom by having to have her give the talk to her son. As for your honorary uncles: Moony would be too clinical, Padfoot would be… well… Padfoot, and I'm fairly certain Wormtail wouldn't be able to pick out a vagina from a photo lineup if his life depended on it. The only other male I feel who would be willing to help is your Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. However, Albus really won't be of any help unless you happen to prefer wizards over witches. If that turns out to be the case, he has assured me that he'll guide you in what you should know," James explained.

"PAUSE!" Harry called out again. "Did my dad just say Dumbledore was bent?" he asked, not fully trusting his own ears.

Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry. Sure, her "gaydar" hadn't worked right on Neville, but Dumbledore was another matter entirely. "I have three words for you: sparkling… lilac… robes," she said simply.

Harry frowned as he mulled things over as he let other clues fall into place. "You know, that does make sense. It also explains why he hired Lockhart," he muttered out loud. The image of his father frozen in time drew him out of his musing. "RESUME," he said.

James motioned over toward the couch. Harry took the hint and he Hermione sat down. "Okay, Harry. The very first thing you must know and always remember is to never, ever take your partner for granted. This applies whether you like witches or wizards. People like to know they are special. Never quit romancing your partner and try to remember to do special things for them. They don't have to be extravagant, just something to let them know you are always thinking about them," James told him.

"PAUSE!" Harry called out as he turned to look at Hermione on the couch next to him.

"Harry, we are never going to get through this if you keep pausing every few minutes," she chided him.

Harry gave Hermione a smile that warmed her heart. "I know, but what my dad said pointed something out to me. Hermione, would you be my date to the Yule Ball?" he asked. "I know that we both just sort of assumed we would go together, but I wanted to let you know there's absolutely no one I would rather go to the ball with," he informed her.

Hermione looked Harry in the eyes and saw nothing but love there. "Yes, Harry. I would love to be your date for the Yule Ball and every other event after that," she replied before pouncing on him, pushing Harry onto his back on the soft couch.

Their impromptu snogging session was about to get even more heated but Hermione suddenly stopped. The fact that James Potter was frozen in time with a smile on his face not more than 6 feet away finally forced itself back into the forefront of her mind.

"What?" Harry asked when Hermione had gone still. He opened his eyes and saw her head was turned to the side. Following her gaze, he looked at his father as well. "I know he really isn't there, but this is still sort of awkward," he told her.

"My thoughts exactly," Hermione agreed as she sat back up on the couch. She let her hand slip into Harry's after he righted himself as well. A small smirk played across her face as he tugged on his trousers to give him a bit more room for his trapped erection. It gave her a strange feeling of accomplishment to know she turned on her boyfriend so much. "RESUME," she called out.

James pulled over a comfortable looking, high backed chair in front of the couch. He sat down in it and leaned towards where he thought his son would be sitting. "Now on to the more technical points. I'm pretty sure by now you have a rough idea about putting tab A into slot B," he started out saying. "Making love to a woman is so much more than that. You see, Harry, making love is like playing a game of quidditch where you are the seeker and your woman is one of the chasers. As you know, a chaser's objective is to score as many goals as possible. A seeker's objective is catch the snitch, but once the snitch is caught, the game is over. To make sure your lovemaking is as good as possible for both of you, you should follow the strategy of all of the professional teams except for the Chudley Cannons," he explained. James shuddered as he thought about the worse team in the league. "The Cannons always try to catch the snitch as quickly as possible and just ignore their chasers. A real team sees the seeker doing everything they can to help their chasers score as many points as possible before they decide as a team to take the snitch. Once they have racked up the score, the chasers switch and try to help their seeker finally catch the snitch. Everyone works together and they all feel like they accomplished something they can be proud of," he stated. Harry nodded his head as his father's words made perfect sense to him. Hermione rolled her eyes at the sports metaphor. James leaned over and took out a piece of wood out from under a side table. A quick tap of his wand transfigured the wood into a very accurate replica of a woman's pubic area. "Not to confuse things by using mixed metaphors, but I now want to show you how to find a woman's golden snitch…" he said.

****Unexpected Animagus****

A total of three hours passed before Hermione and Harry reappeared outside of the Potter Family pensive. Both teens had somewhat shell shocked expressions. Hermione was the first to speak. "Wow! Your dad really was great at transfiguration. Those models were… ah… really lifelike," was all she was able to get out.

"Uh… about what my dad showed us…" Harry started to say.

Hermione put her finger on Harry's lips to quiet him. "Harry, I can truly say that was the most informative three hours I have ever spent. And just so you know, everything your dad explained I plan on doing with you," she told him, giving Harry a seductive smile. One of things she had learned was that all of the men in Harry's family had been Parselmouths, they just kept their skill hidden better than Harry. She was definitely looking forward to experiencing what James had called the Salazar Screamer.

"Everything?" Harry asked, matching Hermione's smile with a mischievous one of his own. "Even number 28 of what my dad called the Gryffindor Charges?" he challenged her.

Hermione thought about it for a moment before answering. "Of course, so long as you give me time to stretch beforehand and you can show me you can maintain a Wingardium Leviosa for that long," she replied with a saucy wink.

Harry laughed out loud and kissed Hermione. When they broke the kiss he chuckled, "At least I now know what a vibrating wand is for."

"Speaking of which… Knutsack, we have a few questions for you," Hermione called out. She hated getting one of her favorite companies in trouble, but her loyalty to Harry was far greater than her loyalty to Dorea's Closet, the makers of the best witches' helpers on the market.

Knutsack came into the vault and stepped into the small pool of light surrounding the pensive. "How can I help you, Ms. Granger?" he asked.

"I have a general idea of how business laws work in the Muggle world and I'm curious to see if there are similar laws in the Wizarding World. For instance, it is illegal to use someone's name to endorse a product without their approval," she said.

Knutsack gave her a grin filled with way too many sharp teeth. "Though the wizards in charge are mostly behind the muggles by about 150 to 200 years, they do have similar laws. Unfortunately they don't apply to written works such as the the Adventures of Harry Potter series. We've tried to get Harry compensated for those, but we don't really have a legal leg to stand on so to speak," he explained.

"What about having his name used on items to sell them?" Hermione asked for clarification.

"Oh those we can sink our goblin teeth into and rend every last knut out of the offenders," Knutsack assured her.

Frowning, Hermione sighed and asked, "Account Manager Knutsack, were you aware that there is a line of 'Harry Potter' brand vibrating wands?"

Knutsack paused for a second before bursting out laughing. He was laughing so hard, he doubled over from the force and quantity of his laughs. Once he was able to get ahold of himself, Knutsack wiped a tear of laughter from his eye. "Oh very good, Ms. Granger. You had me going there for a moment," he chuckled. Knutsack looked at his client and his client's mate and noticed they were both very serious looking. "Gods of gems and ores, you're not joking are you?" he asked rhetorically. That sent Knutsack into another fit of laughter. "That only makes it funnier," he chortled.

Hermione put her hands on her hips and gave the goblin a look she usually reserved for Ron Weasley. Having excellent survival instincts, the goblin quit laughing at once. "NO, Knutsack, I'm not joking and would appreciate it if you would tell us what is so funny," she demanded.

"Of course, Ms. Granger," Knutsack replied. "I think the easiest way to explain this is to let you see the rest of the vault," he said and then clapped his hands twice.

Harry and Hermione had to squint their eyes at the sudden brightness that flooded the vault. When the purple spots in their vision finally faded, they slowly turned around to look at the vault that was easily twice the size of the Great Hall back at Hogwarts. The wall closest to them was dominated by a two story tall banner with the Potter Crest on it. Harry stared at the banner and then rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn't seeing things. "Is that the Potter Family crest?!" he managed to inquire.

"Yes it is," Knutsack said proudly. His family had served as financial consultants in one form or another since the very first Potter had become very rich.

Hermione couldn't resist asking the next question to make sure her eyes weren't playing tricks on her. "Are those Griffons on the crest… mating?" she asked.

"Yes they are," Knutsack replied with a smirk. He led them to a crystal display case below the banner. Inside the display case was a rather thick, but short wand made of ash sitting on a red velvet pillow. "The easiest way to explain things is to tell young Mr. Potter here about the founder of his line, Clitorias Potter," Knutsack said. "Clitorias was born during the reign of Arthur Pendragon. He was a Muggle-born wizard who had taken up his father's business as a traveling merchant who plied his wares up and down the Thames from his boat that also served as his home. Clitorias had a big heart and always went out of his way to help the people he and his father met during their travels. During puberty, Clitorias learned that not only was he a wizard, but also a parselmouth. True to his nature, Clitorias used these new abilities to help the villagers, especially the sexually frustrated women once he took over his father's boat after the old man retired," Knutsack told them. "Eventually word spread up and down the Thames and the village women took shifts searching the river for him. It was said that some women actually fainted in ecstasy when they located the Hooded Man in the Boat. It was necessity itself that drove young Clitorias to invent the first vibrating wand. It was either that or continue to suffer tongue cramps from overuse. The wand was an instant success and Clitorias sold the wands as fast as he could make them. He gave up his boat and took over the house of a prosperous pot maker to give him more room to work. For several years his location was a secret, but eventually word got out and women lined up at his door and his fortunes and reputation grew exponentially. That wand in the case is his prototype," Knutsack informed them as he gestured towards the wand on the velvet pillow. "Coincidently, legend has it that your ancestor was the one responsible for parselmouths to be shunned and vilified on the British Isles. The other wizards were never able to compete with Clitorias and eventually petitioned Merlin to throw him through the Veil of Death. Lucky for Clitorias, Morgan le Fey was one of his customers and didn't want to lose such a useful wizard. She proposed a compromise and bound your family so that the men would only be interested in one woman and one woman only for their entire lives. Morgan Le Fey tweaked the spell at the last minute to make it so that the Potter men would only fall for the brightest, most caring witch of their generation. If a second son was born, then they would get the second best and so on," he added.

Knutsack motioned for Harry and Hermione to follow them as he led them around the vault, talking about different ancestors of Harry's (both Potter men and the women they loved), each of which had a hand in providing help for those of who enjoyed a little spice in their sexual relationships. They finished the tour next to case that held a vial of a potion that gave off a warm, rose colored light, a rolled parchment, and a vintage owl order catalog. "This leads us to the accomplishments of your grandparents. Harry, your grandfather, Charlus, was a very accomplished potions master. The potion in that vial is one of a kind. He discovered a variation of the Veritaserum that was able to produce orgasms with just three drops placed in a drink. The potion never made it to production because they found out the potion caused not just one but numerous, intense orgasms in a 48 hour period. While the effect was slightly different for each test subject, they all had at least 100 orgasms over the two days. Unlike Veritaserum which it was based on, there was no antidote ever discovered. Even though that potion ended up being too powerful for use, your grandfather went on to create several other potions that are still in use today," Knutsack told them. "Your grandmother, Dorea, was a Black by birth inherited their skills at business. She came up with the idea of marketing all of the various inventions of the Potter Family by owl order…" Knutsack said before he was interrupted by Hermione's gasp.

"NO WAY! You've got to be kidding me!" she exclaimed, her expression one of intense excitement.

Knutsack smiled and nodded to Hermione and then pointed to the parchment and catalog. "I see you have guessed what I was going to say next. Harry's grandmother started Dorea's Closet which has become the Wizarding World's number one owl order company for magical sexual aides, lingerie, and potions to enhance various aspects of mating. That parchment is the paperwork that gives the Potter Family sole ownership of a very, very profitable company. It was Dorea's idea to keep the ownership of the company a secret with Dorea being a popular witch's name at the time. She believed they would do more business if the Slytherin families didn't know their wives were making a certain Gryffindor family rich," Knutsack told them. "We goblins have taken two phrases from the Muggles and made them part of belief system. The first one is of course 'Time is Money'. The second is 'Sex Sells'. My family has been the account managers for the Potters for many, many generations are have been made rich because of that second phrase," he said proudly.

Knutsack chuckled at the gobsmacked expression on Harry's face. "Now you can see why I found your question so funny, Ms. Granger. Harry happens to own the company making 'Harry Potter' brand vibrating wands. He IS being compensated for the use of his name. Quite handsomely in fact," he explained.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other for a moment and then they both started laughing at the absurdity of it all. After a few moments, Harry sobered and looked at Knutsack. "Do you happen to know what my mother and father were working on since it seems every generation adds something to our legacy?" he inquired.

Knutsack walked over to a plain wooden chest and opened the lid reverently. He withdrew a large, leather bound book. The goblin turned and presented the book to Harry. "Your mother and father had just finished this project prior to their murders. It is a collection of all the various… um… techniques your family has perfected over the centuries. For some reason, your mother insisted it be called 'The Potter Sutra'," he stated.

When Knutsack offered the book to Harry, the young wizard shook his head no. "Give it to Hermione. I think she'll appreciate it more than I will at the moment," he said, knowing how his love would always be a bibliophile at heart. "As for me, I think I'll take this," he said as he picked up the vial of Liquid Orgasms. He read Hermione's expression and winked at her. "You, me, the twins, Neville, Luna… we're the next generation of the Marauders. I can think of at least a dozen ways to use this potion to uphold their name," he said with a wink and a grin.

Hermione was about to protest but then thought about what he said. Since she would be by his side no matter what, she might as well start thinking like a Marauder. She finally matched his grin as she started to compile a list of those she thought deserved spontaneous, uncontrolled orgasms.

 
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