Title: The Heir of… Potter?

Author: BertaS

Pairing: None

Rating: PG - Swearing

Word Count: 1000 +/-

Warnings: Language

Summary: Summer before 5th year.

A/N: I don't know if this is going anywhere but it insisted on being typed up. Harry gets some interesting news that he needs to share.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, movies or anything else you may recognize.

The Heir of… Potter?

"Hey Tom, come on wake up." The bed shook violently as it was kicked hard. The occupant of the bed just grumbled incoherently and rolled over. He was on the verge of sleep again when the voice once again called, "Tom, come on, get up. I need to talk to you."

Tom mumbled, "'M gonna hex ya." As he slid his hand under his pillow.

The answer he got was not what he would normally expect to such a threat as the voice chuckled, "Good luck with that."

Tom's hand groped further under the pillow but didn't find the wand where it normally was as he slept. He suddenly sat up and looked under the pillow before looking around blearily.

"Looking for something there, Tom?" the now very annoying voice asked.

Turning his glare on the person who had invaded his bed chamber Tom was totally unaware of clutching the pillow against his stomach as he snarled, "Potter!" His eyes were riveted to the wand the boy was holding in his off hand.

"Give me my wand." Tom said as he held out his hand.

Harry snorted before drawling, "Yeah, I don't think so."

"Wormtail!"

"Isn't going to be answering anytime soon." Harry interrupted.

"Nagini?"

Harry shifted the wand and the fire flared up, giving Tom enough light to see the large snake coiled on the hearth rug. She hissed, "Such a nice boy." contentedly but didn't really move.

"I bribed her." He smiled brilliantly before becoming a bit more serious. "And promised I wouldn't hurt you, unless you tried to hurt me first."

Tom was shocked at the size of the lump in the middle of the snake. "Damn it, Potter. What the bloody hell did you feed my snake?"

Harry grinned, "A particularly vicious bull dog." He shrugged. "She'll sleep for a while."

Tom sighed "It's too early for this shit." He rubbed his face. What do you…? How…? Why…? Bloody hell, I don't even know what to ask first." He sat the pillow aside.

Snorting Harry said, "I spent the morning at Gringotts. Why on earth, did you use your muggle father's bones instead of someone from your mother's side of the family? There are at least a dozen Gaunts in that grave yard. The oldest dating back to the mid 1600's."

Tom just looked at him for a moment before his head cocked to one side. "The wards are still in-tacked. How did you get in here?"

Harry leaned against the mantle. "Whose blood did you use in that fucked up mess just a few weeks ago?"

"You know who's."

Harry snickered slightly and he said, "Then you know how I got in." He shook his head. "Just like you could waltz in to my aunt's house any time you want."

It was Tom's turn to snort. "That's assuming I know where it is."

Harry hummed, "Too true."

Tom chuckled. "I don't suppose you want to tell me?" He leaned forward eagerly.

"Maybe." Harry shrugged. "But you don't really want to hurt you great auntie. Do you?"

"My what?" Tom looked vaguely horrified. "What the fuck are you on about, Potter?"

Harry laughed, "That's what I said. Did you know having an heir emancipates me?"

Tom sagged on the bed. "What the bloody hell does that have to do with anything?" He rubbed his face again. "I need coffee."

"Dobby?" Harry called. "Coffee please."

As long as Tom had been in the magic world, house elves could still amaze him. He was, however, unaware of the look of wonder on his face as a small table and two chairs appeared in the corner of the room. The table had a large coffee pot that was surrounded by a veritable feast.

"Thank you." Harry called out as he moved to seat himself at the new table. He gestured, "You'll have to come and get it. I'm not bringing it to you. Although, it is my understanding that a six-week old usually has to have to have help with their meals."

Tom snorted, "I assure you, Potter, I am the most independent six-week-old you have ever met." He stood gracefully from the bed. "Just give me my wand and I'll show you."

Harry chuckled, "Planning to commit patricide, Tom?"

Tom sat down and leaned forward. "I already did." He poured his coffee. "And stop calling me 'Tom'"

Harry hummed, "I suppose I should start calling you by your new first name. since the Goblins insisted on knowing what I am calling my new son.

Tom looked shocked. "And just how the bloody hell did that happen?"

"Don't look at me. You're the one that fucked up the rebirthing ritual." Tom just glared and waited for him to continue. Which he did. Explaining as though to a small child. "If you had used your maternal great grand-father, you would be considered a Gaunt. You didn't. you used the null, non-magical bones of your original father. And, as far as I can tell from what the goblins said, all they did was act as a binder," Harry looked thoughtful, "You could, I believe, use Pettigrew-Potter. Congratulations, Marv, you got what you always wanted, you're a pure blood."

Tom did a spit-take. Luckily, he was faced just right to spray coffee across the rug instead of the table. He grabbed a napkin and started to wipe his face but stopped. "Did you just call me, 'Marv'?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, I did."

Tom finished wiping his face. "Marv Pettigrew-Potter?" The look of disgust on his face was priceless.

Harry wished he had a camera as he grinned. "Actually; Marvolo Harcourt Thomas Potter, was born on June 24th at just after 6 pm to Peter Alistair Pettigrew and Harcourt Jameson Potter." He shrugged. "At lease according to the goblins."

Tom's mouth opened and closed a couple of times as he tried to find words.

"Yeah," Harry snorted, "that's how I felt."