A/N
Uh......sorry for the late chapter!!!

Also, this is Harry's blood test for a little recap:

Harry stared at him. "Isn't that a Hogwarts house? Slytherin?"

Grallruk grinned toothily. "Yes, Slytherin was one of the four founders."

Harry's eyes scanned the paper again. "Th-this thing says, i-it says I own twenty-five percent of Hogwarts!"

This time it was Ki's turn to gape. Harry subtly raised his hand to close her mouth. He was sure he could hear a whispered, "Oh, my Medussssa, did I pick a good one!" The corners of Grallruk's mouth twitched, as though he was trying hard not to grin again.

"The paper doesn't lie, Heir Slytherin."

Harry was glad he was sitting down; otherwise, he might have fainted. "So, I... Slytherin... wow, I own twenty-five percent of—of Hogwarts, and—" His eyes scanned the parchment once more. "I'm also Heir to the... Peverells?" He wasn't quite sure who these 'Peverells' were, but apparently, he had an Heirship to them. This was far, far too much information in one go. Harry was starting to get a headache...

Then, a thought crossed his mind. "Grallruk?" he started, his brain working a mile a minute. At the goblin's questioning eyebrow, Harry continued, "What are blocks and compulsions? I-well, I know what they...are, but do they have a different meaning in the magical world?"

Silence followed this question until it was broken with a small sigh from the goblin. "I'm afraid not, Heir Slytherin. It seems that you have had some compulsion charms and potions placed on you."

Harry's heart sank. He was hoping that he'd been wrong, that those words did, in fact, have different meanings in the magical world. Apparently not.

"What does this mean? Can I have them removed? Who placed them on me?" Questions flowed from his mouth like steam from a kettle.

"To answer your first question, it means exactly what you think it does: someone is trying to control you. The answer to your next question is yes. Here at Gringotts, we can remove these blocks."

The old goblin straightened in his seat, his lips pressed into a thin line before he continued.

"However, your last question is both harder and easier to answer. The paper says they were performed by 'A.P.W.B.D.' The only being I know of in the Wizarding World with those initials is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. The same Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore that is known as the 'leader of light' by many here in Wizarding Britain. His motives for doing this..." A look of severe distaste flashed across Grallruk's expression. "...I do not know."

Harry mulled this over for a couple of minutes. Ki had told him of this Albus Dumbledore—the headmaster of Hogwarts and, according to her, master manipulator. Another fact Harry now knew about him was that this man was supposed to be his 'magical guardian,' but Harry had never even met the man!

He kept his words steady, his tone calm—almost too calm. "Grallruk, what does being a magical guardian entail?"

Grallruk seemed to consider this for a moment before replying. "Well, for starters, one is required to visit their charge at least once a year."

Harry raised an eyebrow. Dumbledore hadn't visited him once! Let alone once every year!

His thoughts quieted as Grallruk continued. "One is also entitled to reimbursement upon money spent on their charge. This includes costs for educational materials, healthcare expenses, living expenses, and any other necessary expenditures for the charge’s welfare."

Only his self-taught mask kept Harry from giving a humourless scoff at 'welfare.' Dumbledore clearly hadn't done anything to ensure his 'welfare.'

"One must take all necessary measures to ensure the safety and security of their charge against any threats, magical or otherwise."

A haunted look shone in Harry's eyes as he remembered the endless beatings, the feeling of his uncle's fists pounding his body, the smell of burnt flesh as a hot pan was used on him, the lashing sensation of when he was whipped... Harry swallowed against the lump in his throat, clearing it of those thoughts and focusing on Grallruk's voice.

"One has the responsibility of being a proxy to their charge. This includes any legal representation that may be required. In addition to this, one has the power to use their charge's votes on the Wizengamot, assuming their charge has a seat there."

Harry's brow furrowed. "Do I have a seat on the Wizengamot?" he asked.

"Of course, Heir Slytherin. You have a few, in fact: Potter for starters. You also have Slytherin and Peverell."

Harry nodded, looking down with a frown as he took this in. "Well, at least I don't have to worry about him taking money from me..." he muttered to himself.

Grallruk raised a single eyebrow. "Headmaster Dumbledore has taken many withdrawals in the past ten years. Are you saying you haven't seen any of this money?"

Harry's head shot upwards. "What did you just say?" His voice was deliberate and dangerous. "I haven't seen a single penny of that money."

To his credit, Grallruk didn't flinch when Kiearah let out a slow, angry hiss. The goblin frowned, thinking. "Then that begs the question: where has it been going?"

"I don't know, but when I find out, there will be hell to pay."

Harry struggled to calm himself. His words measured but carrying a dangerous undertone.

"How do I remove these blocks?"

Grallruk looked him in the eye. "We at Gringotts have what we call a 'purge.' It is painful, I will warn you, but it's the only way to fully rid yourself of all dark magic."

Harry didn't have to think as he abruptly stood, his voice steady but leaking with emotion, hurt, pain, and a horrible ache of betrayal, the cause of it? A man he'd never even met.

"I'll do it."

His eyes glistened with tears he vowed never to shed. He wanted to finally be free of this. He wasn't Dumbledore's puppet—not anymore. He wasn't anyone's puppet.

And he never would be again.

~•~•~•~

Grallruk and Harry stopped at a heavy metal door on which the plaque stated:

Medical Facilities

Little time was left for Harry to ponder why a bank would need medical facilities as Grallruk pushed the door open and led him inside. The medic's room was sterile. At one wall stood a viewing platform with a few chairs.

In the center of the room, there was a metal table with various runes etched in. On all four corners, restraints were placed, giving it a rather uninviting look. Grallruk led Harry toward the center table. "Lie down," he ordered, and Harry was left with little choice other than to do as he was asked. Harry took Kiearah off his shoulders and placed her on a nearby chair, then reluctantly started to climb onto the metal surface.

Once he was situated, Grallruk left through a door in the corner, coming back moments later with five more goblins. As one, they approached the table, and a knot of anxiety began to make itself known in Harry's stomach. One goblin secured Harry's arms and legs to the corners of the table, ensuring he wouldn't be able to move. He could hear Ki hissing worriedly nearby, but he forced himself to tune her out.

The next thing he knew, the goblins had gathered around him, holding hands and starting to chant. That was when the pain began. It started small, pricks shooting around his body, similar to the 'pins and needles' effect. Next, the pain started to ramp up—his body throbbed with the fire coursing through his veins. Harry heard himself scream just minutes later when the goblins chanted louder and faster.

He now knew what the restraints were for as his body convulsed involuntarily. Sweat formed on his brow, and his face reddened. The last thing he heard before passing out was an unearthly scream stemming from his scar.

~•~•~•~

Harry awoke an hour later with a gasp.

"Ah, Heir Slytherin, you're awake," said a voice he recognized as Grallruk's. He slowly became more aware of his surroundings. He was still laying on the metal table, but he was no longer restrained. He sat up, taking note of the aching pain running through his veins. He spotted Grallruk sitting on the observation deck.

"Harry!" He looked around for the source of the hiss and eventually found Kiearah laying in the same chair he had set her on.

"Oh, Harry! I wassss sssso worried!"

He smiled lightly at her protective nature. "I'm alright now, Ki. Don't worry." She seemed unsatisfied but contented herself with checking him over later.

Harry tried to remember what had happened before he passed out and frowned when he recalled the scream he'd heard. "Grallruk?"

The goblin turned a questioning look to him.

"What was that.....sound? The....scream...."

Grallruk's eyes darkened. "It appears that a piece of... soul had been imprinted into your forehead—specifically your scar."

Harry's eyes widened, his face paling. "A piece of what...?" he asked faintly.

Grallruk's expression showed just what he thought of the dark magic as he clarified. "A piece of a wizard's soul, Heir Slytherin."

Harry's next question came easily. "Whose?!"

Again, Grallruk scowled before replying. "You-Know-Who's."

The tension broke when Harry frowned, Kiearah giving a laugh-like hiss. "No, I don't."

Realization seemed to dawn on the goblin as the corners of his mouth twitched, as though he was trying not to smile. "Ah, my apologies, Heir Slytherin. I meant Lord.....Voldemort."

Although Harry would deny it until his dying day, his face reddened as he realized what had happened.

Snapping Harry out of his embarrassment, Grallruk handed him a blackened, almost burnt-looking jar. Engraved on the lid were what looked like runes of some sort. Inside the jar was a swirling darkness—the very essence of evil, it seemed.

"Careful with this, Heir Slytherin, for it contains a portion of Lord Voldemort's soul."

Harry nodded, his expression serious as he took the jar from the old goblin. He got up and was about to walk out the door when he remembered something.

"So, uh, can I get my money now?"

Ki slapped her tail to her head.