A week had passed since Harry claimed his inheritance. In that time, a mansion had appeared in the Pocket Dimension thanks to the house-elves he found from both families. Furthermore, Harry moved every book, every portrait of his ancestors, and every other valuable object from Peverell Castle and Potter Manor.
Harry was in his room. He fastened a belt where his wand was kept. It was dark in color; beneath the grip was a crimson crystal, the color of blood. What he knew was that this wand had been created by Morriane Peverell, daughter of the first Lord Peverell and the second priestess who could speak with spirits.
The wand was made of black ash wood with a core of crystallized sinew from Aithon, the Raven of the Threshold. It was 15 inches (38 cm) long and had a hard, barely flexible feel. The System classified it as Rank A; The spells cast with it reduced mana consumption by 10%, and it had a strong 88% compatibility with Harry.
According to his ancestors, although the wand suited him well, like all Peverells, he would have to create his own wand. He would do this between the ages of 14 and 16, when he entered adulthood.
There was a pop in the room.
"I love Harry, it's time," said Mipsy, the head house-elf, adjusting Harry's black acromantula silk robes.
Harry put on an obsidian raven mask he had found among the treasures at Peverell Castle. He took Mipsy's hand and Apparated to Potter Manor. He pulled out the black vellum invitation Ironfang had given him. As he touched the silver seal, he felt the familiar tug at his navel.
The world dissolved in a swirl of colors until his feet touched white sand. He was on a private island, lost somewhere in the Pacific and protected by powerful barriers. Before him stood a neoclassical mansion of black marble. Dozens of wizards, their faces hidden behind silver or ivory masks and dark silk robes, walked toward the entrance. Goblins from the Goldhammer Clan guarded every corner, their eyes scanning the attendees with hunger for commission.
Harry handed his invitation at the door, where one of the attendants led him to a private room.
"Welcome to the Gringotts Bank Annual Auction!" Ragnok roared, a fang-filled grin spreading across his face. "There are no ministries or laws here, only the weight of its vaults. Let the gold dance begin!"
A few lots were passed around, which Harry barely noticed. Ragnok pointed to the holographic map that flickered above the attendees.
"LOT 075! Residence, Hogsmeade."
Ragnok struck the anvil. "A mansion in one of the magical establishments of Wizarding Great Britain. Starting bid: 1,000 Galleons."
"1,800!" shouted a suspicious-looking wizard.
"2,500 Galleons," Harry declared. His voice, filtered through the raven skull, echoed like a falling slab.
"Sold to the Knight in the Raven Mask!" Ragnok shouted.
"LOT 080! Commercial premises in Diagon Alley." Ragnok displayed a picture of a luxury apothecary. "Three stories of reinforced stone. Starting bid: 3,000 Galleons."
"4,500," said an elegant witch.
"5,000," replied a businessman.
"5,800 Galleons," said Harry calmly.
"Sold."
"LOT 090! Hacienda 'El Jaguar', Yucatán, Mexico. Built over a sacred cenote. A nexus of ancient blood magic. Starting bid: 8,000 galleons."
"8,200," replied a woman in a red robe.
"8,800 galleons," Harry's voice, filtered through the mask, sounded like the creaking of old bones.
"Sold."
"LOT 098! Villa 'Astarte', Santorini, Greece." Ragnok displayed a white villa perched on a cliff. "Starting bid: 4,500 galleons."
"4,800," they shouted in Greek.
"5,500 galleons," Harry declared.
"Sold."
"LOT 110! Residence in Kuoh, Japan. Former seat of the Kurozawa Clan. A unique spiritual convergence zone. Starting bid: 3,000 Galleons."
"5,000 Galleons!" shouted a Japanese collector.
"8,000!" replied a man in gray robes.
"12,000 Galleons," Harry responded nonchalantly. The Japanese collector smashed his glass in anger. "Sold."
Ragnok presented lots of parchment and books that smelled of dust and ancient magic.
"LOT 140! Von Stein Family Archives." Ragnok held up a chained tome. "Specialists in homunculus creation. Starting bid: 5,000 Galleons."
"5,500," said a German researcher.
"7,500," bid a haggard-looking witch.
"8,500 galleons," Harry stated. The German investigator lowered his head.
"LOT 145! Qin Dynasty Library." Ragnok displayed enchanted silk scrolls. "Treatises on Chi manipulation. Starting bid: 7,000 galleons."
"8,000!" shouted a Chinese collector.
"9,000!" replied an envoy from a magical academy.
"10,500 galleons," said Harry, straightening up slightly. The Chinese collector regarded him respectfully and withdrew.
"LOT 155! Borgia private collection. Secrets of blood poisons and counter-curses. Starting bid: 3,500 galleons."
"4,500!" shouted an alchemist.
"5,200 galleons!" Harry cut off the bidding authoritatively. "Sold."
"LOT 160! Ofuda's Book 'Six Seals of Midnight.' The definitive Japanese exorcism manual for sealing ghosts, spirits, and demons. Starting bid: 6,000 Galleons."
"7,500," said a Church representative.
"12,500 Galleons," Harry declared. The Church representative eyed him suspiciously but lowered his head.
"LOT 180! A group of five house-elves from House Beaumont." Five trembling creatures entered the auction, their hands and feet bound. "Starting bid: 3,000 Galleons."
A dealer in magical ingredients licked his lips. "4,000 Galleons! That'll do me good for cleaning my cauldrons of poison."
Harry felt a deep nausea. He remembered Mipsy and the elves who now lived in his dimension.
"10,000 galleons," said Harry, rising slightly. The dealer spat on the ground and retreated. The elves peered at Harry's mask with hope.
The atmosphere grew heavy. Ragnok ordered the individual cold iron cages to be brought in.
"LOT 205! A juvenile Nundu." An African warlord and a crazed collector raised the bid. Harry didn't participate; it sold for 18,500 galleons.
"LOT 210-A! Kitsune." In a cold iron cage, the Kitsune bled from its paws; it was a girl no more than five years old, with white hair and tail. "We started at 5,000 galleons."
"10,000!" shouted a man in a pig mask. "I want its skin!"
"25,000 galleons," Harry's voice wasn't a shout, it was physical pressure. The pig man shrank back. "Sold."
"LOT 210-B! Two-Tailed Kitsune." A slender Kitsune appeared on stage; like the previous one, it had white hair and tails. But this one had several runes on its chains and a vacant stare. "Starting bids were 5,000 Galleons."
"10,000," said a witch.
"25,000 Galleons," Harry repeated with a terrifying presence. "Sold."
"LOT 210-C! Mountain Tsuchigumo (Yōkai)."
"10,000 Galleons," Harry raised his hand, and no one else dared to breathe.
"LOT 215! Iron Dragon Heart." Core that forges high-quality weapons. "3,500 Galleons." Won.
"LOT 218! Royal Basilisk Bones." Six ribs and four fangs. "4,500 Galleons." Won.
"LOT 220! Royal Phoenix Tears (50 ml)." Absolute physical healing. "6,000 Galleons." Won.
"LOT 230! Phoenix Drop from the Underworld." Ragnok displayed the crimson vial. "Capable of reconstructing a shattered body. Starting bid: 50,000 Galleons."
"52,000," said a representative from a demon faction.
"58,000," replied a clandestine healer.
"65,000 Galleons." Harry wasn't about to let his safety net slip through his fingers.
Harry headed to the retreat chamber where Ironfang awaited him.