Chapter 1

As Harry journeyed through the Wolfswood alongside Ned Stark and his companions, his thoughts turned inward, drifting back to the events that had brought him to this unfamiliar world. With each step, memories of his past adventures flooded his mind, starting with the Chamber of Secrets and the fateful encounter with Tom Riddle's diary.

He remembered the cold, damp floor of Chamber, the sense of foreboding that hung heavy in the air as he descended into the Chamber. With Fawkes by his side, he faced the basilisk and the dark magic that lurked within the ancient chamber's depths.

But it was the encounter with the diary, with its sinister whispers and malevolent presence, that left the deepest impression. As he gazed into its depths, he felt a strange connection, a pull that seemed to draw him in despite his better judgment. And when he plunged the basilisk fang into the diary, destroying the horcrux within, he felt a searing pain shoot through his scar, a pain that lingered long after the diary had turned to dust.

It was then that he realized the truth: a fragment of Voldemort's soul had lodged itself within him, a shard of darkness that threatened to consume him from within. With each passing day, he could feel its influence growing stronger, its whispers echoing in the recesses of his mind.

But Harry refused to succumb to the darkness. As Harry's mind wandered through memories of his past adventures, a shadow of doubt began to creep in, casting a pall over his thoughts. He couldn't shake the feeling that there were unanswered questions, secrets hidden beneath the surface, and lies woven into the fabric of his reality.

His thoughts turned to Dumbledore, the wise and enigmatic headmaster who had guided him through so many trials, but whose motives and intentions now seemed shrouded in uncertainty. Harry remembered the cryptic warnings, the half-truths, and the manipulations that had shaped his journey, and a sense of betrayal welled up within him.

He recalled Dumbledore's reluctance to reveal the full extent of what happened the night Harry's parents died, his evasive answers to Harry's questions, and the moments when he had been left to fend for himself in the face of danger. The pieces of the puzzle began to click into place, forming a picture of a man who wielded power and knowledge like weapons, manipulating events to suit his own agenda.

In that moment, Harry realized that he had been played, that Dumbledore's guidance had come at a cost, and that the path he had been set upon was not entirely of his own choosing. Anger and resentment surged within him, mingling with the pain of betrayal and the weight of responsibility that now rested squarely on his shoulders.

That night, as he sat in the Headmaster's office, his mind still reeling from the revelations of Dumbledore's manipulations, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at him.

Silently, he watched from the shadows as Dumbledore moved through his office , his figure illuminated by the flickering torchlight. In the dim glow, Harry struggled to reconcile the image of the kindly old headmaster with the master manipulator whose actions had shaped his destiny.

He remembered Dumbledore's gentle smile, his reassuring words, and the sense of security that had once surrounded him in the headmaster's presence. But now, those memories felt tainted, overshadowed by the realization that Dumbledore had kept secrets from him, manipulated events to suit his own ends, and placed him in harm's way without his knowledge or consent.

As Dumbledore disappeared from view, Harry's thoughts turned inward, grappling with the conflicting emotions that churned within him. Part of him wanted to confront Dumbledore, to demand answers and explanations for his actions. But another part hesitated, uncertain of what revelations lay ahead and fearful of the consequences of challenging the powerful wizard.

As Harry grappled with his conflicting emotions and suspicions about Dumbledore, he found solace in the presence of Fawkes, the majestic phoenix who had become his loyal companion. That night, they forged a familiar bond. It was a bond that transcended words, a connection that spoke to the depths of Harry's soul and filled him with a sense of purpose and strength.

At first, Dumbledore seemed pleased by the bond between Harry and Fawkes, his eyes twinkling with apparent approval as he observed the growing relationship between the boy and the phoenix. He praised Harry for his compassion and resilience, noting the significance of the bond between a wizard and his magical familiar.

But beneath the surface, Harry sensed a flicker of something else in Dumbledore's gaze—a shadow of concern, perhaps, or a hint of unease. It was subtle, barely perceptible, but Harry knew better than to dismiss it as mere coincidence.

In the darkness of the night, Harry made a silent vow to himself. He would tread carefully, keeping his suspicions close to his chest while he sought to uncover the truth behind Dumbledore's machinations. For now, he would bide his time, observing from the sidelines and waiting for the right moment to make his move.

As the days passed and Harry and Fawkes grew closer, Dumbledore's demeanor remained unchanged outwardly, but Harry couldn't shake the feeling that the headmaster was hiding something—that there were depths to his motives that even Harry had yet to uncover.

In quiet moments alone with Fawkes, Harry pondered the implications of Dumbledore's apparent disapproval. Was it simply jealousy, as Dumbledore watched the bond between Harry and Fawkes deepen? Or was there something more sinister at play, hidden behind the facade of benevolence and wisdom?

With each passing day, Harry's suspicions grew, fueled by the knowledge that Dumbledore had kept secrets from him in the past. But for now, he kept his doubts to himself, biding his time and waiting for the right moment to confront the headmaster and demand the truth.

During the summer break, Harry's determination to uncover the truth about his Dumbledore only grew stronger. With Fawkes by his side, he made his way to Gringotts, the imposing bank that held the secrets of Wizarding wealth and heritage.

Upon entering the grand marble halls of Gringotts, Harry felt a sense of anticipation building within him. He approached the goblin tellers with confidence, determined to learn the truth that Dumbledore had kept hidden from him for so long.

With a mixture of trepidation and excitement, Harry met with the head goblin, a stern and imposing figure who regarded him with a keen gaze. With Fawkes perched on his shoulder, Harry laid out his request, asking to see the records of the Potter family's accounts and holdings.

The goblin's eyes narrowed, his expression unreadable as he considered Harry's request. After a tense moment of silence, he nodded curtly, motioning for Harry to follow him deeper into the bowels of the bank to meet Ragnok, the king of the Goblins.

Ragnok expressed his displeasure to Harry, as they had sent him many letters to discuss the Potter family's accounts over the years. But as Harry explained the circumstances that had prevented him from responding to the Goblin's letters, a flicker of realization crossed the Goblin's features, his suspicions aligning with Harry's own.

"You suspect foul play," Ragnok mused, his voice tinged with a hint of grudging admiration. "And rightly so. The Hoblins of Gringotts have long suspected that your mail was being intercepted."

Harry nodded solemnly, his suspicions confirmed. "I believe Dumbledore has been intercepting my mail," he admitted, his voice tight with anger and frustration. "He has kept many secrets from me, and I would not put it past him to manipulate my correspondence as well."

Ragnok regarded Harry with newfound respect, his expression thoughtful. "It would not be the first time we have encountered such deception," he admitted, his voice low. "But fear not, Mr. Potter. The Goblins of Gringotts do not take kindly to such interference. We will ensure that your family's affairs are handled with the utmost discretion and integrity."

With a sense of relief, Harry felt the weight of suspicion and doubt lift from his shoulders. As Harry and Ragnok continued their conversation, the Goblin's gaze grew thoughtful, his sharp eyes flickering with an idea. "There is a way to confirm your family's standing definitively," he suggested, his voice low and deliberate. "You could undergo an inheritance test."

Harry's interest was piqued, his curiosity mingling with a sense of apprehension. "What does that entail?" he asked, his voice steady despite the uncertainty that gnawed at him.

Ragnok explained, his tone grave. "An inheritance test is a ritual performed here at Gringotts to determine the rightful heirs to a family's wealth and property," he said. "It involves a series of magical incantations and rituals, overseen by a team of goblin experts."

Harry nodded, absorbing the information. "And what would the test entail for me?" he inquired, his mind racing with possibilities.

Ragnok regarded Harry with a solemn expression. "For you, Mr. Potter, the test would involve examining your magical lineage and family connections," he explained. "It would confirm your rightful claim to the Potter family fortune and estate, as well as any other assets that may be held in trust."

Harry considered the proposition carefully, weighing the risks and benefits. On one hand, the inheritance test offered a chance to finally uncover the truth about his family's standing and put an end to Dumbledore's manipulations once and for all. But on the other hand, it also represented a leap into the unknown, a journey that could uncover secrets long buried and truths that might shake the very foundations of his world.

After a moment of contemplation, Harry nodded decisively. "I will undergo the inheritance test," he declared, his voice firm with resolve. "I need to know the truth about my family's legacy, no matter the cost."

As Ragnok, the head goblin, prepared to conduct the inheritance test, a solemn hush fell over the chamber. With practiced precision, he withdrew a ceremonial knife from a velvet-lined box, its blade glinting in the dim light of the chamber.

Harry watched with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension as Ragnok approached, his eyes fixed on the gleaming blade. Sensing Harry's unease, Fawkes let out a soft trill of reassurance, his presence a comforting reminder of the bond they shared.

With steady hands, Ragnok extended the knife towards Harry, his expression grave as he spoke the ancient words of the ritual. "By blood and magic, let the truth be revealed," he intoned, his voice resonating with power and authority.

Harry nodded, his jaw set with determination as he offered his hand to the goblin. With a swift, practiced motion, Ragnok made three precise incisions on Harry's palm, each cut drawing forth a single drop of crimson blood.

As the drops fell onto the parchment below, they seemed to shimmer with a faint, ethereal light, their magical essence mingling with the ancient symbols inscribed upon the surface. Ragnok watched intently, his sharp eyes scanning the parchment for any sign of magic or revelation.

And then, in a flash of light, the parchment began to glow with a radiant intensity, the symbols coming to life in a swirling dance of magic and mystery. Ragnok's eyes widened in astonishment, his gaze fixed on the unfolding spectacle before him.

As the ritual of the inheritance test reached its climax, Harry watched with bated breath as the symbols on the parchment coalesced into a single, unified image—a sigil that bore not only the crest of the Potter family, but also the emblem of the Black family, intertwined in a display of ancestral lineage.

Ragnok's eyes widened in astonishment, his sharp gaze flickering between Harry and the parchment before him. "Remarkable," he murmured, his voice tinged with awe. "It seems that your heritage is more complex than we anticipated, Mr. Potter."

As the revelation of his heritage unfolded before him, Harry's mind reeled with the enormity of the truth that had been unveiled. Not only was he the heir to the Potter and Black families, but Sirius Black—his godfather, believed to be a dangerous criminal and fugitive—was intricately tied to his lineage.

The news struck Harry like a bolt of lightning, igniting a whirlwind of conflicting emotions within him. On one hand, he felt a surge of curiosity and longing to learn more about the enigmatic figure who had been absent from his life for so long. On the other hand, fear and uncertainty gnawed at him, fueled by the dark rumors that surrounded Sirius Black's supposed crimes.

Ragnok watched Harry closely, his sharp gaze assessing the young wizard's reaction with keen interest. "Sirius Black," he began, his voice solemn, "is indeed your godfather. He is a figure of great significance in both the Potter and Black families, and his recent escape from Azkaban has sent shockwaves through the wizarding world. He was sent to Azkaban for allegedly betraying your parents, but there was never a trial."

As Ragnok delivered the startling revelation, Harry's mind raced with a flurry of emotions. Sirius Black, his godfather, accused of betraying his parents and imprisoned without a trial— the injustice of it all weighed heavily on him.

His heart clenched with a mix of sorrow and anger at the thought of Sirius languishing in Azkaban, branded a traitor to the very family he had sworn to protect. Questions tumbled through Harry's mind, each one more urgent than the last.

"Why was there never a trial?" Harry demanded, his voice tinged with frustration. "Surely there must be evidence to prove Sirius's innocence."

Ragnok's expression remained impassive, his eyes unreadable behind his spectacles. "The circumstances surrounding Sirius Black's arrest and imprisonment are shrouded in mystery," he admitted, his voice grave. "But it is clear that he was denied his right to due process, a fact that casts doubt on the validity of his conviction."

Harry's fists clenched at his sides, his resolve hardening with each passing moment. "I have to find Sirius," he declared, his voice firm with determination. "I need to hear his side of the story, to uncover the truth of what really happened that night."

Ragnok nodded in understanding, his gaze steady as he regarded Harry. "Be cautious, young wizard," he cautioned. "The path ahead is fraught with danger, and the truth you seek may be more elusive than you realize."

But Harry was undeterred. With the weight of his newfound heritage and the revelation of Sirius's plight heavy upon his shoulders, he knew that he could not rest until he had uncovered the truth and secured justice for his godfather.

But the surprises did not end there. As Ragnok continued to study the parchment, his keen eyes caught sight of something else—a series of words inscribed in a delicate script at the bottom of the page.

"It appears," Ragnok began, his voice measured, "that your parents' will was never executed."

Harry's breath caught in his throat, his mind reeling at the implications of this revelation. His parents' will—long thought lost or destroyed—held the key to unlocking the mysteries of his past, the truth of their final wishes, and perhaps even the answers to the questions that had haunted him for so long.

As Ragnok spoke of the existence of a copy of his parents' will stored within the depths of Gringotts, Harry's interest piqued. The prospect of uncovering the contents of the document—long thought lost or destroyed—filled him with a mix of hope and apprehension.

"Could I see it?" Harry asked, his voice tinged with urgency. "I need to know what my parents wanted, what they planned for me."

Ragnok nodded solemnly, his gaze unwavering. "It is within your right to view the will of your parents," he affirmed, his voice carrying the weight of centuries of goblin tradition. "But be warned, young wizard. The truth it holds may be difficult to bear."

Harry nodded in understanding, his determination unwavering. "I must see it," he insisted, his voice firm with resolve. "Whatever it may reveal, I need to know."

With a nod of acquiescence, Ragnok led Harry deeper into the bowels of Gringotts, their footsteps echoing through the ancient corridors. Finally, they reached a chamber where rows upon rows of vaults were housed, each containing secrets and treasures untold.

With a wave of his hand, Ragnok unlocked the door to a vault marked with the Potter family crest, revealing a small, ornate chest nestled within. Within its confines lay the parchment containing the will of James and Lily Potter, preserved for all time within the secure confines of Gringotts.

As Harry unfurled the parchment containing his parents' will, the words inscribed upon it leapt out at him, each revelation more profound than the last.

The first revelation struck Harry like a bolt of lightning—Sirius Black's innocence, confirmed in his parents' own words. They had named Peter Pettigrew as their secret keeper, absolving Sirius of the betrayal that had torn their world apart. The weight of this truth settled upon Harry like a heavy burden, mingling with the sense of relief that flooded through him at the knowledge of his godfather's innocence.

The second revelation, equally as significant, spoke to the love and foresight of James and Lily Potter. In the event of their death, Harry was to be raised by either Sirius Black, the Longbottom family, or the Tonks family—trusted allies who would ensure his safety and well-being in the face of adversity. The warmth of their love and the strength of their bonds shone through in these words, a testament to the sacrifices they had made for their son.

But it was the third revelation that brought a surge of emotion to Harry's heart—a declaration that under no circumstances would he be given to the Dursleys. The memory of his years of neglect and abuse at their hands rose up within him, a painful reminder of the darkness that had once overshadowed his life. But now, in the light of his parents' love and protection, Harry felt a sense of vindication and liberation, knowing that he would never again be subjected to their cruelty.

And then, as Harry read on, his eyes fell upon the final revelation—the name of the executor of the will: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. The realization struck him like a blow to the chest, casting a shadow of doubt over the man he had once trusted implicitly. What role had Dumbledore played in the events that had led to his parents' deaths, and why had he kept the truth hidden for so long?

As Harry grappled with these questions, a sense of determination welled up within him. Armed with the knowledge of his parents' final wishes and the truth of Sirius's innocence, he vowed to uncover the secrets that had been kept from him for so long. And as he rolled up the parchment, his heart heavy with the weight of the revelations it contained, Harry knew that the journey ahead would be fraught with danger and uncertainty.

—

As Harry's mind swirled with the revelations from his parents' will, his thoughts were suddenly interrupted by Jon's voice, cutting through the tumultuous sea of emotions that engulfed him.

"We're nearing the gates of Winterfell," Jon informed him, his tone gentle yet urgent.

Harry blinked, the weight of his thoughts momentarily lifted as he turned his attention to the present moment. Glancing ahead, he saw Winterfell looming in the distance, its ancient walls and towering battlements a testament to centuries of Stark history.

A surge of anticipation and uncertainty swept through Harry as he realized that his journey was about to take a new turn. Winterfell, with its storied halls and noble inhabitants, held the promise of answers to the questions that had plagued him since his arrival in this world.

As Harry pondered his future in this new world, he couldn't shake the feeling of the wild, untamed magic that seemed to permeate the very air around him. Unlike the controlled and structured magic of the wizarding world he knew, the magic here felt ancient, primal, and alive.

He sensed the whispers of something ancient and powerful in the rustle of the leaves and the howl of the wind, it's presence a constant reminder of the deep connection between magic and nature in this land. And as he looked out upon the rugged landscape of the North, he felt a sense of awe and reverence for the untamed beauty that surrounded him.

But along with the wonder of this wild magic came a sense of danger and unpredictability. Harry knew that he would need to tread carefully in this new world, for the forces at play here were far beyond his understanding.

Yet, despite the challenges that lay ahead, Harry couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement at the prospect of exploring this untamed frontier of magic. Here, amidst the ancient forests and snow-capped mountains, there were secrets to be discovered, mysteries to unravel, and adventures to be had.

With a sense of determination and curiosity burning within him, Harry embraced the wild magic of this new world, ready to embark on a journey that would take him to the very limits of his abilities—and beyond.

Turning to Jon, Harry nodded, a silent acknowledgment of the task that lay before them. "Thank you, Jon," he said, his voice steady with determination. "Let's see what awaits us at Winterfell."

With that, Harry braced himself for the next chapter of his journey, ready to face whatever trials and tribulations awaited him within the ancient walls of Winterfell.

---

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