Còir Buaidh

I suppressed a scowl as I watched Sirius and Regulus, six and four respectfully, make a mess at the table, their mother Walburga fussing over them. The pair were young. Like really fucking young and frankly I had little interest in interacting with them. Give them a few years, and that would change, but for now, the pair could be molly-coddled by their bitch of a mother all she wanted.

My opinion of Walburga - Arcturus’ daughter-in-law - which hadn’t been very high to begin with, was close to the gutter after the first meal I had at the Black Estate. Even though Arcturus had explained that I was The MacLeod, and thus a lord in my own right, she’d tried to not only feed me directly but mother me. Thankfully, Melania -Arcturus’ wife - had stepped in and made her stop before I’d lost control and embarrassed myself. However, since then, Walburga had kept her distance, though I’d heard more than one comment about me being ‘an uneducated Scot’ or something similar.

While I’d love nothing more than to not see her again, as I was coming over at least once a week now, I had to endure her comments and less-than-subtle glares. Oddly, the only upside to all this might come when Sirius started acting out against her and the rest of his family. If his mother, who he grew to despise, hated me, then he might well gravitate to me instead of James Potter.

Still, at least meals were the only time I had to see her. The rest of my time at the Black Estate was spent with either Arcturus or Melania. Arcturus spent what time he could spare teaching me the current political situation in Britain, or at least to a level a child – even one that appeared smarter than average – could understand. I had little doubt he was trying to subtly colour my opinions on certain people and factions, but I wasn't just taking everything he said at face value, checking it against what my ancestors knew, and then doing my best to reserve judgement.

He was also teaching me the basics of swordplay. Unexpectedly, even though wizards and witches had wands, the art was still common among the older families, and it explained the sword I’d seen in the Master Study at Dunscaith. I hadn’t yet picked that up, as I’d only had a handful of lessons on stance and form, but I was oddly looking forward to the time when I could begin fencing for real. I doubted I’d ever be in a sword fight as a wizard, but I could see how the skills of being constantly moving and thinking needed for fencing would carry over to duelling with wands.

Melania was teaching me more about the customs of the Scottish clans. While Clan McMillan had dropped many, they still followed them when interacting with the other clans. And not just the Scottish clans, as it seemed the Irish and about a third of the Welsh magical families still followed the old ways and had clan systems in place. She was also teaching me dancing, as even though I was young, once it was revealed I was The MacLeod, I’d receive invites to formal events. I wouldn’t be expected to dance often, at least not until I was in my teens, but there was a decent chance that the daughters of other houses would approach me, seeking a dance.

“Hard to believe he will one day be a lord,” I smirked and glanced to my right to see Andromeda Black as she sipped at her orange juice. She, and her younger sister Narcissa, were here as Melania had said I needed a partner closer to my height to practise with. Now, I could see the plan she and Arcturus were cooking up. The more time I spent around Andromeda and Narcissa, the more likely that, as we grew up at Hogwarts – Andromeda was three years older than me, Narcissa a year older – the more likely it was that I’d eventually end up with one of them. Or at least there was a higher chance of that.

“Luck of the draw, unfortunately,” I replied to her. “Still, at least Sirius doesn’t take things too seriously,” I smiled amusedly at using that line before Sirius was able to, and that turned into a smile as Andromeda groaned.

“That was really bad,” Narcissa whispered from the other side of Andromeda. Unlike Andromeda or most of the Blacks actually, Narcissa took after her mother and had long blonde locks that she kept tied back in an intricate braid. While the design changed each time I saw her, the braid was always there.

“Thank you, thank you. I’m here every Wednesday,” I said with a mock bow. That earned me a slap on my shoulder from Andromeda and the faintest of giggles from Narcissa. As I looked up, I saw Melania watching us, a slight smile on her lips. While I knew her plan, it didn’t mean I was opposed to at least getting to know the two. They both had some role to play in future events and even if they came from a cadet branch of the Blacks, they were still Blacks.

I’d met Bellatrix twice before, however with today being September first, she had gone to Hogwarts to begin her first year. It was hard to get a read on her as she already carried herself with an air of superiority, which I’d learnt was well earned as she was considered the best wand duellist in her year and a top five student; something made more impressive when I’d learnt her year had around three-hundred and fifty students.

Well, I had expected a larger number of wizards and witches compared to the original canon, but the actual increase was staggering, surpassing the mere forty students in Harry's year. It was a remarkable revelation during my lessons with Arcturus when I discovered that the revered Sacred 28 had expanded to a remarkable Sacred 77 in this alternate reality. Notably, the MacLeod’s, along with seven of the twelve clans involved in the tragic event known as the Summer Solstice Massacre (as named by The Prophet), were included in this extended list. Even the clans not on the list were still regarded as Pureblood houses, due to their ancient lineage and their historical association with nobility predating the enactment of the Statute of Secrecy.

The politics of the Wizengamot was also far more complicated than I suspected it had been in canon. While there were three basic parties within it, there were other sub-factions that could intermingle through those main three. The main three were called the Builders of the Future, the Scholars of Knowledge and the Seekers of the Truth, or more commonly the Builders, Scholars and Seekers.

In the simplest of terms, the Builders sought to be a safe and clean world for all magical beings, the Scholars felt that knowledge, be it dangerous or not, should be preserved and respected, though they understood some spells, incantations and the like shouldn’t be taught to any, while the Seekers felt that all magic was equally important, and that no distinction existed between differing spells, just how one used them. In essence, the trio of factions seemed to align with the more common fan theory factions of Light, Neutral and Dark respectfully.

Yet within each party - which drew its name from a Latin quote though Arcturus hadn’t told me what those were - were several factions which often crossed over with the other parties. The two largest factions were the Progressives and Traditionalists. While those two generally congregated in the Builders and Seekers respectfully, there were large numbers of each faction in all three parties. An example Arcturus gave of this was Lord Prewett who was a member of the Builders, yet much like Arcturus, was considered a Traditionalist.

There were other, smaller factions as well, however, Arcturus explained that I wouldn’t need to know them quite yet, as while I would be recognized as the MacLeod, and have a seat in the Wizengamot, since I had yet to pass my OWLs, I couldn’t vote on any matter. I could, in theory, appoint a representative, however, they must be someone who was either within two generations of me - such as a cousin - or have sworn an Unbreakable Oath to follow my intentions in the Wizengamot to the letter. I was relieved by this as it meant Arcturus wasn’t trying to gain the votes Clan MacLeod held - which was five for being Ancient and Noble (by virtue of being a powerful clan before the Statute came into effect) - for his own devices. Still, since he and Meliana were the ones tutoring me in the way politics in wizarding Britain and Ireland worked, I suspected they hoped to bring me into the Traditional Seekers group.

However, before that could happen, or I could appoint a representative, I had to travel to Gringotts and gain a wand. Arcturus hadn’t explicitly mentioned Ollivander, which had me wondering if perhaps there was another wandmaker that handled custom wand construction. Though it might be that Ollivander was the only game in town, so there was little need to mention him directly.

I’d find that out this afternoon, or so I hoped.

… …

I stepped out of the Floo and looked around. While the Floo point was called Gringotts Bank, the exit I and Arcturus had emerged at was just outside the bank. I knew we weren’t inside since I could see the sky, a reasonably clear day for London in the sixties, and that we were close as the wall in front of us matched the description of the bank. Tall white-marble walls stretched upward, rising possibly five stories high.

"Follow me and keep in mind my instructions," I acknowledged Arcturus with a nod and fell into step behind him. The robes I donned had been discovered in Tamhas' room, skilfully adjusted by Kadic using magic to ensure a better fit. Although they did not quite match the exceptional quality of Arcturus' attire—crafted from luxurious Acromantula silk, as he had informed me—they were deemed suitable for the occasion at hand. Wearing a robe akin to Arcturus' would undoubtedly draw undue attention to myself, which was precisely what we aimed to avoid until the upcoming opening session of the Wizengamot next week.

It only took a dozen steps until we reached the imposing entrance of the bank. Unlike in the books, two goblins, resplendent in silver armour, chased through with gold and holding rather sharp-looking halberds guarded the doors. The massive silver doors, now wide open, commanded attention as they glistened brilliantly in the sunlight, their surfaces immaculate and polished to perfection. The pristine white marble of the bank's facade resembled freshly driven snow; inhumanity perfect. Yet, etched upon those impressive silver doors, the warning I remembered from canon was etched.

Enter, stranger, but take heed,

Of what awaits the sin of greed,

For those who take, but do not earn,

Must pay most dearly in their turn,

So, if you seek beneath our floors,

A treasure that was never yours,

Thief, you have been warned, beware,

Of finding more than treasure there.

We stepped inside, and I flinched at the number of people inside. I’d expected this, as Arcturus had mentioned the bank was rarely quiet, however, it was still far more people than I’d anticipated. At least when compared to canon and not taking into account the fact this was a more magical world with a greater number of wizards and witches, furthermore, considering my sheltered past and my lack of previous visits to this bustling place, it was no wonder the throngs of people took me aback.

“I require a private teller,” Arcturus stated to a goblin in a suit behind a barred stand. The goblin looked up, a disinterested expression on its face that fell away as Arcturus lifted a hand and a ring appeared.

“Of course, Lord Black. Should I summon Account Manager Kragnar for you?”

“Yes, and I also require a goblin that can perform an inheritance ritual.” Arcturus pulled back his hand as my eyes wandered to the ring. I only caught a brief glimpse of it, but that was sufficient to discern the unmistakable House Black sigil adorning it, accompanied by faint engravings etched delicately into the gold before it disappeared from view. I rubbed my wrist, where the torc was as I wondered if there was a way to make it invisible.

I inhaled sharply as I felt a small rush of magic and as I looked down at my wrist, I saw the torc was gone. No, I could still feel it, could sense the magic in it, and through that, a faint connection to the wards of Dunscaith Castle, but I could no longer see it.

“Come along.” I snapped out of my confusion and followed Arcturus. In his hand was a tag of some sort, and we headed toward one corner of the bank. A set of magnificent doors made of the same white marble as the bank and inlaid with silver, opened as we approached. Inside the now-revealed corridor were two more armoured goblins, though these had shields and axes, who stood aside when Arcturus showed them the tag.

As we walked, I saw the corridor was lined with doors, each with a number upon them. The odd thing was the numbers weren’t ordered as the first three on my left were 6, 2, and 10 while the right gave 3, 5 and 1. Arcturus led us into room 7. Inside was a large ornate desk crafted from exquisite hardwood, its dark wood gleaming and freshly oiled. The surface of the desk, expansive enough to accommodate two individuals with ample room to spare, highlighted meticulous craftsmanship. Intricate carvings depicting mythical beasts and intricate patterns adorned its edges, adding a touch of mystique and enchantment to the already impressive piece of furniture and it was wide enough that I felt we could both lie on it and not worry about personal space. On the far side was a raised chair, more of a throne to be honest, that towered over the desk while on our side there were three chairs. The central chair was closer to the table while the other two were slightly further back.

As the doors to the room closed behind us, I turned and saw two padded benches against the wall that looked large enough to seat three people each. The walls were made of the same white marble as outside but here the white marble acted as a canvas, enlivened by flowing veins of shimmering silver that traced elaborate illustrations. These ethereal currents breathed life into the walls, their graceful movement forming a mesmerising display of artistry. The silver threads seemed to weave and dance, conjuring vivid tableaus of courageous warriors engaged in epic clashes, their forms constantly playing out the scenes for eternity.

“Enchantments are layered into the silver to ensure that none outside the room can overhear. Among other things.” I turned back to Arcturus to see he’d taken the centre seat on our side of the table. “Sit.” He added as he patted the seat at his right.

Only a moment after I’d done so, a door appeared on the far wall and a goblin walked in. Under his arm, he held a large book, but it was his clothes that drew my attention. They looked on par with what I wore, though in a style that reminded me of a bank teller in one of those high-class banks I’d seen in movies in my former non-magical life.

“Lord Black, I am curious why you owled saying you wished to meet today,” the goblin said as it slipped into the raised chair on the other side of the desk. “We weren’t due to meet regarding the accounts of your house for another month.”

Arcturus lowered his head. “Forgive me for taking up some of your valuable time, Kragnar. However, an issue has arisen that I feel would interest Gringotts.” Kragnar’s brow rose, and his eyes drifted toward me.

“This isn’t a Black.”

Arcturus chuckled at the comment. “Indeed. I am curious if you heard of the disaster that the clans of Scotland suffered over the summer?”

“I have. The account managers of those clans are frantic. Only three clan chiefs have come forward, leaving the accounts and holdings of the other clans in limbo until either a new chief arises or your Wizengamot reaches a determination on who should be placed in political control of those accounts.” Kragnar’s face seemed to snarl as he spoke of the Wizengamot, suggesting he either disliked politics, or how that body went about its business.

“Then today I am pleased to bring a fourth chief to Gringotts attention.” He turned to me and nodded. I lifted my arm and willed the torc to appear.

Kragnar’s eyes narrowed as he saw the torc and the sigil upon it as it turned my arm around. “How old are you boy?”

“I am seven, Account Manager Kragnar. And while I am a child, I am the MacLeod of MacLeod.” I spoke calmly, trying to not feel angry at the dismissive tone Kragnar had used. Arcturus had explained that while the goblins had a reputation for disliking wizards, this was simply an air they used to achieve an upper hand in negotiations. If your business with them was regularly profitable, and you treated them with the respect that their position as bankers of Wizarding Britain and beyond required, they were generally amicable. Though like wizards, they had different personalities and motivations meaning encountering one who disliked humans was possible, though unlikely as such a goblin was often reassigned from wizarding accounts.

“Indeed, you are.” Kragnar pulled what looked like a stone from his jacket. “O quipaoqui accuams memefiqu remkuqu om quuul ritim.” The stone glowed red for a moment after whatever Kragnar had said, before he placed it back in his pocket. “I was made to believe that the entire main branch of Clan Macleod was murdered.”

“I was only recently made aware of this through my niece, Cassiopeia. Apparently, young Dòmhnall survived the attack. Though because of it, he was left in the care of muggles for some time before he was discovered.”

Kragnar grunted. “My condolences. Non-magical humans are, overall, an irritable lot. While we have some dealing with them via their banks, they generally lack culture and manners.”

I nodded. “Thank you. My time with them was… unpleasant.” I could see Arcturus’s hand tighten as I spoke. While I’d rather he didn’t hear of what had happened to me, Cassiopeia had insisted Arcturus and Melania be made aware. She was, she claimed, concerned I might have lapses where my thoughts would return to what I’d experienced with the muggles.

Arcturus had maintained his calm as I detailed the attempted exorcism to him, though Melania had growled darkly. The air around her had grown heavy and only a firm hand on her arm from Arcturus had stopped her from rushing from the room after I’d finished my story. Once I’d added that Kadic claimed the muggles responsible had been killed by my accidental use of magic, she’d calmed slightly, but she’d still muttered a few choice words about muggles and their beliefs.

An odd silence fell over the room as Kragnar didn’t press further, which felt a little odd. At least until I considered that asking such questions might be outside his purview. He was the Account Manager for House Black, not Clan MacLeod and asking more might be overstepping his boundaries.

The door Kragnar had used swung open and an irritable-looking goblin stormed in. “Why have you sum….” The goblin slid to a stop as his eyes saw me. “Gold be good. Are you...?” I held up my arm, showing the torc and the goblin sighed loudly. Then, unexpectedly, he started laughing. “Thank the Ancestors!” He proclaimed before his whole demeanour changed. “I mean, Chief MacLeod, I am Ranlor, Account Manager of Clan MacLeod. I must say it is a relief to see you have claimed the chieftainship and revealed yourself to me this day. I was growing irritated with cadet branches overstepping their bounds.”

“Cadet branches?”

Ranlor looked at me as if I’d grown a second head before blinking. “Ah, you are not Anoghus’ original heir.” His eyes wandered over me. “If I might ask, how old are you?”

“Seven.” Ranlor’s brow rose, and he looked at Kragnar for confirmation, which came with a nod.

“And you have claimed control of the wards of Dunscaith Castle?” I nodded again and Ranlor stared at me. As he continued to stare, I grew concerned my age would be an issue. “Ah. Forgive me. It’s just…” he waved a hand in the air. “Not something that concerns us for now.” Kragnar gave Ranlor a look that hinted he knew what Ranlor was thinking about, yet Ranlor ignored it as he turned to Arcturus. “Lord Black, on behalf of Clan MacLeod and their accountants, you have my thanks for bringing The MacLeod to me. I will speak with the board about granting you highly favoured status for future transactions for at least the next year.” Arcturus nodded, accepting the thanks and offer as Ranlor turned back to me. “Before I can allow you access to the accounts of your clan, I must insist on an Inheritance Ritual. Has Lord Black informed you of this?” I nodded which earned Arcturus a smile. “Excellent. Lord Black, might I impose on you to escort Chief…”

“Dòmhnall.”

“…Chief Dòmhnall to Examination Room 3?”

“He is my only reason for taking up your valuable time today,” Arcturus replied, which earned him a toothy smile from the goblins. Though I suspected the offer of favoured status was something he might have hoped for. I’d have to ask him later about what it meant.

“And Gringotts thanks you for your help today.” Ranlor turned back to me. “With the torc, the Ritual is a mere formality, however, it will remove any chance certain… wizards in the Wizengamot would have to challenge your claim as chieftain of Clan MacLeod. And allow me to penalise the false pretenders who seek to claim your holdings.” A vicious smile came to his face as he spoke and if I cared or knew who he was talking about, I’d be concerned for them. “I will meet you in Examination Room 3 as soon as I can corral the healer needed. Until then, Hold Fast and may your transactions with us remain profitable.”

“Thank you and, uh, may those who cross you pay with their money and blood,” I replied, unsure of how exactly to respond.

Ranlor chuckled. “While in the old days, we might have required their blood, we tend to take their gold instead now. It is a bit less messy.” I chuckled nervously, wondering if the opinions on the goblins I’d read about in my former life were accurate or not.

… …

I rubbed my hand even as the small wound there started to heal. As I’d half-expected, the ritual had involved blood, and a goblin healer had drawn that with a stylised blade – one inlaid with markings similar to some on the torc – over my palm. The cut stung, but after the blade had moved away, the goblin had lifted my hand over a bowl and had nine drops of blood before moving my hand away. As he had applied some dittany to the wound, which had started healing it and numbed the pain, the runes – or what I assumed were runes – around the rim of the bowl started to glow.

Slowly the light grew brighter until I was forced to lift my arm and shield my eyes. A flash followed soon after and when I looked again the blood and bowl were gone, replaced by a sheet of parchment.

The goblin healer lifted the parchment and handed it to Ranlor, who was the only other being in the room with me. Arcturus had been asked to wait outside as he wasn’t a member of Clan MacLeod from any of the previous three generations.

“This is… unexpected,” Ranlor said slowly as he read the parchment. His eyes then drifted to the torc. “Or perhaps not.” As the healer collected the bowl and left the room Ranlor showed me the parchment. The text was written in dark red, suggesting it had formed from my blood.

Dòmhnall Fionnlagh MacLeod

January 10th, 1958

Father: Anoghus MacLeod [July 6th, 1933 -> June 26th, 1965]

Mother: Kara MacLeod (nee MacDougall) [February 8th, 1934 -> June 26th, 1965]

Magical Potential:

AKROS

Potential Titles:

MacLeod of MacLeod [1st in line] [Taken]

MacDougall of MacDougall [5th in line] [Unclaimed]

Lord Black [17th in line] [Occupied]

O’Neill of O’Neill [Minor] [ Occupied]

I looked up from the paper. “Akros?” Of everything mentioned there, that was the oddest. Or at least the most unexpected. I mean, I knew I’d picked several perks and abilities before being merged into this world, but there hadn’t been anything back then dealing with Magical Potential.

Ranlor sighed. “That is a topic perhaps best discussed with Lord Black present.” With that, he turned and walked toward the door to the Examination Room. I fell into step slightly behind him, finding it easier to keep pace with the goblin than Arcturus.

“Are there any issues?” Arcturus asked as we exited the room and he rose from the padded bench outside.

“He is the MacLeod of MacLeod. Even your Wizengamot cannot deny that,” Ranlor began as he kept walking. “However, there are other matters that I suspect Chief Dòmhnall wishes to discuss in a more secure location.”

I watched as Arcturus glanced my way and then nodded. “Of course. Would it be preferable to speak on these matters here, or elsewhere?”

“Since Accounting Room 7 is still booked for you, it is free to use. That will grant me time to collect the overview of Clan MacLeod’s accounts.” He paused at a larger set of doors, ones that would lead back onto the main floor of the bank. “Due to your age, I am uncertain how detailed a report you wish to receive. For today, might I suggest a basic overview of clan holdings, cadet branches and investments? The exact figures would, with respect, likely be far too complicated for you.”

Part of me was insulted. Even if what he said was polite, he was dismissing me as if I was a child. However, I understood he was right. The old Dòmhnall wouldn’t understand ninety per cent of what he likely had to report. Hell, even with a more mature section of my mind, I doubted I’d understand even half of it. “That would be acceptable. Unless anything particularly jumps out, I will leave the details of my clan’s holdings in your hands. I would, however, wish to visit the main vault of my clan. I am led to believe that my parents may have stored something of importance there.”

Ranlor nodded. “That can be arranged once we have looked over the holdings.” He turned to Arcturus. “While I prepare, I can trust you to explain certain details of wizarding society that it seems The MacLeod is sadly lacking.” Arcturus offered a nod and Ranlor turned back to me. “From this point on until you reach Accounting Room 7, I would advise caution. While no employee of Gringotts would reveal anything you discuss to others, I cannot say the same of any other customer. Since you and Lord Black have worked to conceal your survival, it would be bad for business if such a reveal slipped to others before I can use it to secure clan holdings.”

After I agreed to that with a nod, Ranlor slipped through an undecorated door. One that, behind it, I saw a goblin guard standing. “Shall we?” I turned to Arcturus and followed him out onto the main floor of the bank.

“Ah, Arcturus, what an unexpected surprise.” We were about halfway back to the Accounting Rooms when someone called out. Arcturus turned toward the voice, stopping our momentum.

“Charlus, indeed, it is.” A man around Arcturus’ age approached, dressed in clothing as fine as his. Though Arcturus’ robes had tints of silver, Charlus’ robes were fastened with gold and had a bright red lining along the midnight black, reminding me heavily of the colours of Gryffindor.

The two shook hands, exchanging pleasantries about their families before Charlus glanced down at me. “I don’t believe I’ve met this young man before. A nephew of yours?”

“Indeed. He needs to buy a few gifts for a family affair and his grandmother was most insistent that I help.” Arcturus used a hand to gently guide me into sight. “Boy, this is Charlus Potter, Lord of the Ancient House of Potter.”

“My Lord,” I said as I bowed slightly. Charlus chuckled and shook his head.

“There’s no need for that young man. While Arcturus and I aren’t close, we are cousins via my wife Dorea.” He reached out a hand and I shook it. “I don’t believe I caught your name?”

“Donald, My lord.” I avoided using my current name as I was trying to keep it hidden, and by using the name I’d once used in another life, it would be harder for Charlus – who may well be James Potter’s father or grandfather – to sense I was lying. Or so I hoped.

Charlus looked me over, searching my face. “A pleasure to meet you, Donald. How old are you, eight?”

“Seven, my lord.”

Charlus’ face lit up. “Ah, about the same age as my eldest, James. And around Sirius’ age. Though I can’t say I recall seeing you at any formal events or family gatherings.”

“His parents prefer to remain distant from public affairs,” Arcturus cut in, saving me from having to bullshit. “It is only recently that I had reacquainted myself with the boy.”

“Ah, that will be why.” Charlus stood up. “Since you are busy, I won’t keep you, but when you have time perhaps, we might speak in the motion put forward by Lord Maynard.”

Arcturus lowered his head. “Would Saturday be suitable?”

Charlus smiled. “It would. Perhaps we might even make it a family meal. I would be interested in meeting young Donald’s parents; provided of course, they are amicable.”

“I will speak with them later and owl you before the day is through. However, I do believe Melania would enjoy speaking with Dorea again.”

With that said, and after he gave me a final nod as a way of saying goodbye, Charlus moved away. Arcturus turned and resumed walking toward the Accounting Rooms, a hint of urgency in his steps. When the doors to Room 7 closed behind us, a sense of relief washed over him.

“I would have preferred to avoid meeting another member of the Wizengamot today, but the chance of that was always low. Still, you handled yourself well, even managing to hide your name, well done.”

“Thank you,” I replied as I moved to sit in the same chair as before.

“Since you will soon be having a meeting with your Account Manager, and I will be asked to leave, perhaps it makes more sense for you to take the lead chair.” I gave Arcturus a nod of understanding a few seconds after realising that. “Now, Ranlor stated you have some questions about the ritual you just completed?”

I pulled the parchment from my pocket. “Aye. Most of it makes sense, but these two bits confused me.” I placed the parchment on the table and pointed at the Magical Potential and Potential Titles sections. To be honest, I could understand the reasons it listed House Black and Clan O’Neill of Ireland there as I had links to them through my grandmothers, but it was better to get confirmation.

Arcturus leaned forward to read the details, and I watched as his eyes widened and some colour slipped from his face. He schooled his features quickly, but because I was watching him for a reaction, I saw the slip. “The reason you’re listed as an heir of House Black is due to your grandmother on your father’s side. At seventeenth in line, there is little chance you might inherit the house, but it is still listed. From O’Neill, the reason it says minor is your claim is more than twenty from the title.”

“That makes sense, but what does it mean by Magical Potential?” This had to be why he and Ranlor reacted to the parchment as nothing else stood out. I expected a semi-detailed explanation as he had to know I’d run this by my ancestors for confirmation.

"All witches and wizards have magic of course, but as with all things no one is created equal, this is measured in two different ways, size and depth." He paused to collect his thoughts. "They are closely related of course but a simple explanation is size is how much magic you have access to and depth is how potent your magic is, someone with great size but horrible depth may be able to cast an immense amount of low-level charms but they shall never cast a great working on the level of warding around Hogwarts, whereas someone with small size but great depth may cast a few potent spells but shall exhaust rather quickly"

“So how does Akros enter into it?” I already had an idea but wanted to be sure.

“It means you have immense size and depth to your magic, or you shall when fully matured. The specifics of which can be determined with special rituals. However, Gringotts require time and considerable cost to perform such a thing. Therefore, most Houses and Clans have ways of determining this for themselves, though they are not considered official by the Wizengamot.”

“Ah.” Well, so much for getting that sorted out today.

“I’m sure your ancestors can explain it in greater detail, though I should warn you that very few wizards or witches are classed as having Akros, or in modern English, Extreme magical potential. Hogwarts, for example, will generally only take a Pureblood or half-blood wizard with at least, in English terms, Decent potential. Muggleborns are given slightly more leeway on this, due to their lack of understanding of our world, and exceptions are made for the heirs of any sitting house in the Wizengamot; provided that there isn’t an alternative heir with acceptable potential.” Arcturus paused and glanced toward the door the goblins used.

“So, the size and depth define a wizard’s core?” I asked, taking advantage of his silence.

Arcturus chuckled. “A rather crude term for it, though not entirely inaccurate. More commonly it’s regarded by researchers as a reservoir of a sort. The maximum capacity of the reservoir is determined by one's Magical Potential. However, how we can use that reservoir depends on the size and depth of our potential. For most, there is only a minor difference between a larger size or larger depth to their potential.” He paused again. “Think of yourself like a sink and the overall potential as what determines its size. Refilling the sink once it’s drained depends on the flow of water into it. Someone with a high size potential has multiple smaller faucets funnelling water into it. This makes it easier to use the water for different things. Someone with a great depth potential has a faucet that allows more water per second to flow; thus, allowing for greater usage of the water in larger ways.”

“Ah.” That wasn’t what I expected, nor did it fit with what I’d expected of a magical core, yet there was logic to it. And it felt familiar. However, I couldn’t recall quickly what it was, meaning I’d have to dive into my thoughts when I had time later. That was the one downside of Emotionless Recall; if the memory wasn’t at the forefront of my mind, I couldn’t easily review it. If the memories were all there, but it took considerable effort to find them. That was why Occlumency was high on my list of skills to learn as it was meant to help one easily sort and access their memories. “What, um, is it allowed to ask someone their potential?”

Arcturus smiled. “Technically no, though that has never stopped children from asking each other, or boasting about theirs.” He took a moment before continuing. “While I won’t go into further detail, as that would take more time to explain, I will simply state that within the members of my family that you are aware of, myself, Sirius and Bellatrix are all considered to have Hyperýpsilos or Very High potential. Every other member of the family that you’ve met has at least Euprepḗs or Decent potential.”

“Ok.” So, if Hyperýpsilos was the level of Bella and Sirius, and they were considered powerful, and I was listed as Akros… Was I on the same scale as Dumbledore and Riddle? Fuck, that was something I’d not contemplated and honestly found a little exciting. “How common…”

“From my understanding, someone with an Akros potential is only born once for every five million magical births. The only two I am aware of in Europe in the last fifty years - though this is speculation as neither has confirmed it - are Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald.”

“Fuck me,” I muttered before I could stop myself. I looked at Arcturus, worried I’d get in trouble for the curse; particularly as it wasn’t, as far as I knew, a common one in the magical world at the current time.

“Perhaps not how I would describe things, but an understandable reaction. However, I would advise you to be more mindful of your words in the presence of others. While I will permit such a slip due to what you’ve just learnt, others would consider you to be… unworthy of your status because of such things.”

“Yes, sir.” Silence fell over the room until, perhaps five minutes later, the goblin door opened and Ranlor walked in with a binder under his arm. “On behalf of Clan MacLeod and Gringotts, I thank you for your service today Lord Black. However, as this is a private business for the eyes of Clan MacLeod only, I must request that you leave.”

“Certainly.” Arcturus stood, turned, and then placed a hand on my shoulder. “I will await you in the main lobby. To avoid any undue curiosity from others, I would advise that, for today at least, you keep the meeting short.”

I nodded in response, and after glancing at Ranlor, Arcturus exited the room. The doors glowed, which I had to assume signalled something with the runes.

“Now, before we begin, I must ask. Have you touched your family magic?” I frowned, wondering why Ranlor would know of that, before shaking my head. That drew a sigh of relief from the goblin. “Good, good. While Gringotts would be interested in purchasing certain enchantments from your Clan, on a personal level, I hope that any such transaction doesn’t occur until the future of your clan is secured.”

My frown deepened, wondering why the goblins would be interested in flesh-crafting – though I had a few ideas – why they’d expect my clan to offer them family magic as a service. I could, however, understand his wariness about me learning flesh crafting early. The warning of the fate suffered by my grandfather’s older brother hadn’t left my mind even half a month since I’d heard it. Oh, I wanted to read the tome, but I was sticking to elementary books on runes with a focus on Tamhas’ second year schoolbook as that was when classes in the subject started.

“Now, regarding the primary holdings of Clan MacLeod. Beyond Dunscaith Castle, there are Dunvegan Castle, where the muggle puppet of Clan MacLeod sits, Knock Castle and Duntelm Castle, which are currently lived in by cadet branches of Clan MacLeod who pay a stipend each year to maintain residence. There is a chalet in Switzerland, along with an estate in the Magical Union of North America.”

“Regarding business, at least within the Wizarding World, your major holdings are a fifty per cent ownership stake in Pride of Portree Quidditch team, a twenty per cent share in Highland Kelpie Farms, five per cent share in The Daily Prophet, and a twenty-two per cent share in The Northern News. There are other holdings, both in the Wizarding World and the Muggle world, however, those can be discussed at a later date.”

“Currently there are three cadet branches of Clan MacLeod, two of which reside on the Isle of Skye in the aforementioned castles, while the third resides near Horizon Alley in Edinburgh. There is a fourth cadet branch within the Magical Union of North America, however, they haven’t sworn fealty to the MacLeod of MacLeod in thirty years, and as such, have been cut off from support from the main accounts. There are also four septs, or magical houses based in Scotland predominantly, that have sworn oaths of fealty to Clan MacLeod. Of those, Clan MacAskill is the largest, standing at eighty-seven members.”

“Within Gringotts, Clan MacLeod holds three vaults while, as The MacLeod, you have access to a further two. With your rise to becoming the MacLeod of MacLeod, all five will be detailed by Gringotts, for a nominal fee of ten Galleons per vault, within the next month. However, I would advise that Vaults 243 and 343 are excluded from the detailing as your family holds several important objects within them.”

“Lastly, borrowing the figures from the last report submitted to your father on January first of this year, your estimated financial holdings are four million Galleons. Are there any questions, or will this suffice as the basic overview?”

I blinked as Ranlor finished, trying to process everything he’d just stated. From cadet branches of the family to houses loyal to us, through holdings and vaults and Galleons. “Uh, no. That will do for today,” I mumbled, coming to terms with what I’d just heard. “Four million?”

Ranlor nodded as he started placing the sheet he’d read from back in the binder. “Yes. I am sorry it seems low, but your grandfather and great-grandfather depleted most of the vault financing, let’s call them bad investments. Your father had begun to restore your capital but was still some way from returning your clan to their former position. He did, however, invest significantly in muggle enterprises, as many of your family have done, and so far, those investments have shown regular and impressive growth.”

“OK. Uh, thanks.” I stood slowly, taking in everything I’d just heard. It sounded as if Clan MacLeod was a powerful clan in Wizarding Britain. However, I had nothing to compare my figures to, so I couldn’t be sure. “Oh,” I muttered as the doors to the room opened. “What is a Galleon worth in muggle terms?”

Ranlor frowned. “I haven’t examined the current figure, but I recall the last time I checked it, which was at the beginning of the year, the exchange rate stood at one Galleon to nine Pounds fifty pence.”

I blinked, quickly doing the calculations in my head. In Muggle terms, I was insanely rich, yet from what Ranlor had said, my accounts at four million Galleons were low. A stray thought went back to my old life, remembering a talk I’d once heard that the price of gold only rocketed up from the nineteen-seventies onward. If that was the case here, then I’d have to return and talk with Ranlor to see if I could convert a few thousand Galleons into Muggle gold reserves. If it paid off, it would be very, very useful once I finished Hogwarts and had to deal with Voldemort. While money wouldn’t win me a war, it would help in other ways.

“Ah, thanks.” With that I exited the room, still working through everything Ranlor had just revealed. It was a lot to take in, and I knew I’d have to go through things more thoroughly with Ranlor at some point in the future. However, I needed to clear my head and focus. Arcturus still had several places we needed to go, and I had little doubt I’d need my head focused and clear.

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