It's All Just Temporary with a Bit of Necromancy

Chapter 12: Continue, Lord Potter

Continue, Lord Potter

Gringotts thankfully wasn't very busy when Harry arrived on its front steps courtesy of Tobi. Swiftly striding forward, he walked to the front teller but before he could even open his mouth, the goblin spoke. "Ah, Lord Potter-Black-Peverell, your room is ready and the other two have already arrived."

Surprised, Harry quickly recovered. "Thank you. I appreciate your cooperation. Could you please see if Griphook will be available to take me to the Potter vaults afterward?"

"It will be done."

"Thank you," Harry replied with a nod of his head before following another goblin down the hall to the meeting rooms. Reaching the door, Harry readjusted his robes. The itching was more intense today and Harry hoped he'd be able to keep his temper in check. It would not do to mess up right now. Playing on the innocent, naive, card, he was wearing nice but not expensive open robes with a crisp button-up, slacks, and his Gryffindor tie.

Taking another deep breath, Harry pushed open the door. It was a simple room with straight, lightly cushioned chairs surrounding a modest square table. Harry immediately recognized the blonde curls of Rita Skeeter and only identified the other woman who sat straight-backed with a monocle by her picture. It was clear to see how she had ascended the ranks in the Auror department though.

"Madame Bones, Ms. Skeeter," Harry greeted politely when both women turned to look at him. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with me." Focusing on the women was helping distract him from the itch under his skin and so he willed all of his thoughts on the present moment.

"You can hardly expect us to decline the invitation," Madame Bones began, standing to shake his hand. An action that pleased Harry because it showed that even if she bought the story Dumbledore was telling she wasn't afraid of him. His respect grew for the woman.

"Yes, there were some pretty steep accusations made against your person, Mr. Potter," Rita chimed in, making no move to shake his hand as Harry and Madame Bones took their seats.

"Lord, actually."

"I beg your pardon?" Madame Bones questioned.

Harry flashed his ringed hand. "It's Lord. Lord Potter-Black-Peverell."

"Part of the story you shall no doubt share?" Madame Bones asked. Rita looked ready to drool at the sight of the rings. Harry gave a shy smile to pair with his nod.

"My apologies, Lord Potter, there were some steep accusations made," Rita continued, gripping her quill eagerly since the room was charmed to not allow the quill to operate independently.

Harry gave a sheepish nod, fidgeting with his tie while he did. "Yes, I read that and I'd really like to set the story straight." Spotting a pitcher of water, Harry poured himself a glass. The movement was helping quell the itch but he didn't want to appear shifty or untrustworthy with moving too much.

"So, Lord Potter, are you, as Dumbledore claimed, a Necromancer?" Madame Bones began.

"Yes."

Both women stiffened but Madame Bones remained outwardly calm and Rita swallowed hard. "Forgive me, Lord Potter, but it is difficult to believe such statements," Madame Bones continued. "There has not been one in centuries."

Harry huffed a chuckle. "That's me, I guess. Always doing the impossible. Would seeing my mark help you?"

The women nodded, seeming to hold their breath as Harry loosened his tie and undid the buttons of his shirt and pulled his shirt over to show the tattoo. There was a sharp intake of breath from both women. Harry gave a weak smile, hand ruffling his hair nervously, before starting to button up his shirt once again. The movement of the clothes gave some friction against his skin relieving the itch only minutely.