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"Talking"
'Thinking, Flashback, or Memory'
Mind Link
~Parseltongue~
Letters or Books
~POV Change~ or Author's Note
-*-Timeskip-*-
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Harry Potter and How Things Changed In A Day
Chapter 2:
Arriving At Gringotts
Harry awoke with a soft groan, instinctively lifting his hand to touch his throbbing skull. The light shining through his closed eyelids made him want to keep them tightly shut, while the soft cushion beneath his body attempted to lull him back to blissful unconsciousness.
A harsh voice cut into his ears and through his drowsy state, awaking him fully, "I see you're waking up, Mister Potter. Come on, wake up," the voice urged. "I have something you must take. It will help with your headache. Hurry up, Mister Potter. We've not got all day, as you've much to do."
Harry slowly opened his eyes, wincing at the bright lights above him. He blinked a few times to help his eyes adjust and slowly sat up. He looked around the large room, which had several white beds lined up along the walls. Finally, his eyes came to rest on a creature that intimidated him to his core.
It stood in front of him, reach about four feet tall, and was dressed in draping robes. It's fingers, long and thin, were holding out a glass (he wasn't sure what the flask was made of) flask filled with a purple liquid, which Harry didn't recognize. On the creature's face were two beady black eyes and a long nose. Very little hair adorned it's (his?) head, and what was there was thin and wispy.
Harry, so focused on his examination of the creature in front of him, jumped when he spoke again. "Yes, I know, I'm hideous." He rolled his eyes. "Now, drink this, and we can go see Lord Ragnok."
Harry held out his hand after a moment, the clear flask being set in his open palm. The creature walked to the table next to Harry's bed, gathering a few folders. When he turned to see Harry still sitting there, hand outstretched, and having not yet drank the contents of the flask, he sighed and rolled his eyes. "Yes?"
"I apologize if this seems rude, but what are you?"
"I, Mister Potter, am a goblin," he answered. "My name is Bludfang. I am a healer."
"Um…" Harry was going to momentarily ignore the fact that he said 'goblin'. He had a feeling that he wasn't going to understand most of the things the creature said. "Where am I? Why am I here?"
"You are in Gringotts. It is a bank run by my kind. You were brought here by a Gringotts House Elf upon request of Lord Ragnok, my superior. Why you were brought here, I do not know."
"A House Elf? I don't understand."
"I'm not surprise at that. Drink the potion. It will relieve you of your headache. Once you do, I will take you to Lord Ragnok, who will be able to explain things much better," Bludfang told him, waiting patiently.
Harry hesitated before uncorking the flask and tipping his head back, the thin purple liquid moving over his tongue and smoothly down his throat, they boy wincing at the taste. Within seconds, the pounding in his skull ebbed away, and a cool sensation swept through his body. "Woah…"
Bludfang plucked the flask from his hand and placed it on the table. "There. Are you ready now?"
Harry blinked multiple times before he finally nodded, sliding off of the bed. His beaten up old trainers were barely holding onto his feet as he stood up, the young boy tightening his belt and adjusting his baggy shirt before looking to Bludfang. "I'm ready."
Bludfang made sure Harry was steady on his feet before he turned and approached a heavy duty door. He pushed it open, waiting for Harry before he exited the infirmary, leading the way out into an ornate hallway. The walls were a beautiful gold color, with intricate silver detailing carved into it. The tiled floors glistened and glimmered as Harry was escorted through the halls, and the young man couldn't help but look around and gape in awe. Bludfang seemed oblivious to Harry's gawking, despite knowing of it happening, and was internally smug, for his ancestors had decorated and carved these halls.
Harry, not having realized that he'd stopped walking, quickly ran to catch up with the goblin.
After a few minutes of walking (and gawking, in Harry's case), they stopped in front of an ornate door, where Bludfang proceeded to knock once. After hearing a command of, "Enter," Bludfang pushed open the door, leading Harry inside.
Harry silently followed Bludfang into a room that was decorated beautifully. Ornate pictures hung on the walls, the frames cleaned down to a glimmering polish. In fact, every surface in the room with a luster that made Harry want to wince as his eyes adjusted. When he finally turned his gaze to the center of the room, he saw a mahogany desk. Like everything else in the room, it was edged with gold. On it sat stacks of paper, files, an inkwell, a glass display case, as well as a few other bits and baubles. Behind the desk, swathed in silks, was another goblin.
He had not a single hair on his wrinkly pate and pointy ears that pointed far back past the top of his head. His eyes were black, beady, and hidden behind thin framed spindly glasses. He sat with his hands clasped in front of him, resting them lightly on the desk.
"Welcome, Mister Potter. Sit."
He gestured to the tall chair that sat in front of his desk and Harry swallowed thickly from nervousness before walking up to it, sitting down silently. He couldn't help but wiggle a slight bit, realizing the chair was much more comfortable than it looked. The goblin sneered at him, intimidating the boy. "You likely have many questions. Before I can answer any of them however, you must be identified." Harry's confusion must have shown on his face as the goblin continued, opening the display case Harry had noticed. "In order for us to discuss certain topics, said topics being confidential, you must be identified as Harold James Potter."
Harry swallowed nervously again. "A-And how are you going to, erm, 'identify' me?"
The goblin gave a creepy smile, showing off his many pointed teeth, "Why, a blood test, of course. You will simply prick your finger."
As he spoke, he removed a long silver dagger from the case, the blade shining in the light of the room. Harry blanched at the sight of the sharp object. The goblin continued, "If you are who you are, we can start our discussion."
The young boy had a feeling he didn't want to ask the following question, but felt he had to.
"And if n-not?"
The goblin smiled wider. "You won't leave this room alive."
He looked as if he'd like nothing better.
The room was silent before Harry asked one final question, "If I do this, will you answer all my questions?"
The goblin nodded. "If you are who we believe you to be, then we will not leave this room until every last question of yours is answered."
Harry looked back at the large door as he thought. On one hand, he could find out what was going on, why he was here, what they wanted from him, everything. On the other hand, he could go home, and try to forget this. Pretend it never happened. But… Then there would be the question about hat would have happened if he had gone along with it.
Knowing he risked death if they were wrong, Harry looked back to the goblin, nodding his consent. The goblin gestured for the boy to come forward who, after licking his dry lips, stood up, approaching the desk. He shakily held out a hand and was handed the ornate dagger, the emerald embedded in the hilt of the dagger glinting at him maliciously.
After studying the dagger, he looked up, noticing the goblin was holding out a piece of parchment. Noticing his confused state, the goblin simply said, "Drop your blood on the parchment. One drop will do."
Harry took a deep breath before pressing the point of the dagger against his finger, wincing lightly at the sudden sharp pain. He held up his hand, a single pearl of blood clinging to his finger before it slowly fell, spattering on the rough surface of the parchment. It spread outward for a moment before sinking into the paper and disappearing.
The goblin pulled the paper away, studying it as blood read lettering appeared. It read:
Harold James Potter
Parents: James Damien Potter (Father), Lillian Rose Potter nee Evans (Mother).
Godfather: Sirius Orion Black
Godfather: Remus John Lupin
Godmother: Alice Longbottom nee Prewett
Godmother: Minerva McGonagall
Born: July 31st, 1990
Death: NA
Age: 10
Blood Type: O Positive
Eye Color: Green
Hair Color: Black
Height: 3 foot 9 inches
Weight: 3.71429 Stone or 52 Pounds
Heir to Potter, Perverell, Gryffindor, Zynostru, and Myrddin lines.
As the goblin read, Harry's eyes had gotten wider. He'd never known his parent's names. The goblin held out his hand after he finished reading, and Harry held out the dagger in return.
This time, the smile given was not at all menacing. He took the dagger before holding out his hand again. "I need to heal you child. Your hand."
"Oh! O-Okay." Harry had completely forgotten about his still bleeding finger, which was slowly dripping his blood onto the carpet. He held his hand out to the goblin, who grasped it, waving a hand over his wounded finger.
Harry watched as the pain suddenly diminished. When he was able to see his hand again, there were no traces of blood on his hand. He took his hand back, shocked to see no wound- no scar!
"Reclaim your seat, child."
He looked up from his inspection before scurrying back into his seat, getting comfortable. The goblin looked at him carefully, taking in his small size. "My name is Lord Ragnok.. Now, I understand you have many questions. I will answer them all, but one at a time."
Harry gently rubbed at his finger absentmindedly. "W-Where are we? I-What I mean is-"
"Where are we in a general sense? At the moment, we are in London, in my office at the Gringotts Wizarding Bank. I am the Head goblin of this bank." The goblin surmised that this was the question he wanted to ask.
"London?" Harry blinked. "W-Wizarding bank? What-What're you talking about?"
The goblin sighed, softly mumbling the words, "I thought as much," before clearing his throat, steepling his fingers in front of him. "Mister Potter, have you heard of magic?"
"Yes sir. But Uncle Vernon says there's no such thing. He doesn't seem to like the thought of it much. I once told him I had a dream about a flying motorcycle and he became very angry."
He shuddered as he remembered the punishment from that. He had been locked his cupboard for a week that time. When he'd been let out, he had been given a piece of slowly hardening bread and told to do his chores. Harry's stomach growled lightly at the thought of food. How long had it been since he had left home?
Ragnok nodded and spoke, dragging Harry from his thoughts. "I supposed as much." He was silent for a moment before nodding. "One moment, Mister Potter. I shall return shortly."
Ragnok stood, walking around the desk and to the door. Opening it, he stepped out of the room. Not twenty seconds later, he returned with two unfamiliar goblins.
"Mister Potter, this is Runcore and Ysgidryl ((Yis-guh-drill)). Runecore is going to scan you for but a moment, and Ysgidryl is going to acquire some of your blood, if you don't mind."
Harry sat in silence before asking, "What's the scan and the blood for?"
"The scan will tell us of every injury you have ever had, as well as any current ones, while the blood is for later. I figured we'd get that done now and get the pain bit out of the way," Ragnok informed him, gesturing for him to stand. Harry slowly did so, not quite understanding what all was happening now, but figuring he should listen to the imposing creature that seemed to be able to do strange things…
He walked forward, giving a shaky smile at the new goblins. "Hello."
"Hello, Mister Potter. I am Runecore. While Ysgidryl is setting everything up, I will scan you. It shall take but a moment, but you may feel a slight tickle. Hold still please," he said in a nasally voice, pulling out a piece of parchment and hovering his fingers over it. He then held his other hand out to Harry, mumbling a few words in a language Harry didn't understand. Seconds later, words began quickly appearing on the parchment, as if someone he couldn't see was writing. Harry shivered as he felt something flow through his body, touching every nerve with an indescribable tingle. The parchment began to elongate as time went on, the room silent as each and every injury he had ever sustained was written out, safe for the sound of Ysgidryl setting up a few bowls on a table with but a soft clatter.
Harry's nerve were shot by the time it finished and felt ready to scream, the silence in the room getting to him. The parchment had finally finished growing and listed injury after injury, one after the other.
Runecore grimaced as he snatched the parchment from the air, reading over it. For a ten year old, or anyone of any age, this amount of injuries was ridiculous!
"Lord Ragnok, sir." Runecore lifted his chin as he held out the parchment, breathing deeply. It may not seem like it to most, but goblins were creatures that cared deeply for their young. Obviously, Harry wasn't part goblin even a bit, but to a goblin, a child was a child no matter the blood. Having the knowledge that this child had been hurt this much was infuriating to the goblin.
Ragnok nodded lightly in understanding, taking the parchment. Runecore left with fury in his blood. "Now, Ysgidryl will be collecting some blood in these bowls here. It will be for our next meeting. I shall explain then. Ysgidryl, please collect the blood while I read over this," Runecore ordered.
The silk swathed goblin walked behind his desk, sitting down with a weary sigh before beginning to read.
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Updated on Friday, April 27th, 2018, 2:22 P.M.