Title: A matter of perception
Author name: Kunglou
Author email: AU
Rating: PG-13
Summary: An ancient prophecy, a rogue military arm and technological experiments of questionable ethics will all make for the biggest change the wizarding world has yet seen.
DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. No copyright infringement is intended and no money is being made from the use of these characters.
Author notes: AU, OC, Updated 20/05/07
Chapter 2: Searching for Independence – Part 1
Albus Dumbledore sat back in the large padded, claw legged chair and stretched his old legs toward the large oak desk that filled his office. It had been a long and tiring day and he expected it to get longer. In fact all his days lately had been long and tiring, ever since the disappearance of Harry Potter.
Always in public, he let his face show the enormous energy and love of life he had felt over the years as headmaster, people couldn't help but trust his twinkling blue eyes and grandfatherly appearance, just as his apparent boundless energy confounded their idea of his true age. At nearly one hundred and fifty years he would be considered truly ancient in the wizarding world but due to his magical power and status he still held a great deal of influence.
In private however, he allowed the weariness that he had felt since the kidnapping of Harry Potter to line his face. Harry Potter was to be the wizarding world's savoir, prophesied to destroy the darkest lord in history as he had banished him when he was just a babe, Harry was revered across the wizarding world for that unexpected and unexplained act and had been known as the Boy-Who-Lived ever since.
Albus was glad, in a way, that the prophecy was not generally known. If it were to become public knowledge, then there would inevitably be a mass panic since only Harry could finally lie to rest the greatly feared visage of the dark lord who hadn't been spoken of even ten years after his body's demise.
When Lord Voldemort attacked the home of the Potters', killing Harry's parents and attempting to kill him with the use of the infamous killing curse, a curious thing happened; The dreaded curse, which had dealt indisputable death since its invention millennia ago, for the first time in memory failed to kill its recipient. Instead it had rebounded upon the Dark Lord throwing him out of his body and cursing him into a limbo like existence until such a time that he once again managed to anchor his soul or restore his body. While the wizarding world thought the Dark Lord dead, he knew better.
Of course at the time he hadn't known all of the details he knew now, but a decade of research into the killing curse and the actions on that terrible night, made it all the more important that he found out who had kidnapped Harry Potter from the safety of his blood relatives home, and the protective wards he had woven to ensure the child's safety.
With a deep sigh, Albus reached behind himself for the old black wooden liquor cabinet that lay beside Fawkes perch and poured a glass of brandy. He had searched the wizarding world relentlessly over the past year without even a hint of success, no matter how it appeared; he very much doubted that Harry's disappearance was due to such an ordinary occurrence as a muggle' breaking and entering - despite the evidence which supported such a view. Harry was just too important to the wizarding world and had too many enemies and wizarding protections, protections created by the greatest living minds to have fallen victim of such a common fate.
Besides a few muggle criminals could not have possibly unwittingly foiled the carefully laid plans that he had spent years building and compiling. Ever since he had initially heard the prophecy in the years before Harry's birth, he had been plotting and planning for Tom Riddles down fall. Harry was the key that fate had granted him, and he was determined to shape and use fate's gift appropriately.
He had delved more deeply into his magic, and the true nature of magic generally, than most did in there lifetime, it was one of the things that made him a truly great wizard. His knowledge of magical theory after almost one hundred and fifty years was truly massive, enabling him to do some things that some wizards would think impossible. The cunning and experience that went with that power reinforced his belief that only wizards could have outwitted him so thoroughly. A wizard or group of wizards with experience and power that matched his own.
Feeling the warm, relaxing glow of the spirits settling his worries, Dumbledore gazed out of the large double bay windows of his circular office, beyond the Quidditch pitch and out towards the mountains which surrounded Hogwarts. Now, despite all the time he had put into his desperate search for the boy and the endless conferences he had held with the numerous portraits of the previous headmasters, which adorned his office, Harry had reappeared without any help or intervention that he could see.
He had reappeared just in time to attend Hogwarts as a first year student, it was a timing that was entirely too coincidental for comfort. The questions of where he had been, whom he was with and why he was taken remained unanswered, and he suspected would likely remain that for quite some time, or at least until such a time as one of his contacts in the Ministry of Magic contacted him and let him know what they had found out about the whole situation. Even then he guessed that much of the situation would remain very much a mystery.
The Ministry of Magic had much closer links to the muggle world than he did, and after such an extensive search he was almost positive that was where Harry's kidnappers had been hiding him. If indeed they had stayed in Britain at all.
As soon as he had heard of Harry's return, Albus had immediately notified Hagrid about the boy's sudden reappearance. Before bothering to wait for more information to become available he had sent Hagrid, Hogwarts Keeper of the Keys, to collect the boy and keep him at Diagon alley until the start of term. At least there, Harry could be watched, and Albus would be reassured that he wouldn't go missing again before he could get him to Hogwarts and under his own personal protection and influence.
'Yes,' Albus thought, putting the glass down on his desk a little more heavily than he would under more normal circumstances, and started to comb his hands through his long grey beard. 'Once Harry is here at the castle, I can start to guide his learning and development, to shape him into the type of wizard that will be both powerful enough to stand up to Tom as soon as possible and sensible enough to accept my guidance and
advice.'
Standing up suddenly and grinning mischievously, his eyes resumed their twinkling. Albus started to pace along the length of his office, ignoring the sudden mutterings of the portraits and the questioning trill from Fawkes. 'A book left here and scrap of parchment there. His father's invisibility coat, the possibilities are endless. There is little doubt with him growing up with his relatives that he will be in house Gryffindor, he is his father's son after all. That can only help my plans to shape him appropriately, I've always held a close association with Gryffindor after all.'
Albus sat down and summoned his pensieve to start to organize his thoughts and plans for the young Harry Potter. His disappearance had added some uncertainty into his old plans and as such he needed to recast some of them and make them more flexible to change. 'Yes, I can definitely see the possibilities here,' he thought, head buried in the silvery strands that swirled in the shallow stone basin. His face no longer drawn and lackluster, he had once again acquired the look of the most powerful wizard in centuries.
"Albus! Albus! We found him! He's alive!" Albus looked up sharply, disconnecting himself from his pensieve and plans in the making, at the thin face of Arthur Weasley that had appeared out of the green flames of his fireplace. Where once the red flames and licked the smoldering coals, floo powder had turned the flames green and rendered them harmless and momentarily changed his fireplace into a very handy communication and transportation device.
Albus turned around in his chair towards the man with small tuffs of red hair on his balding head and looked smilingly through his half-moon shaped gasses perched on his crooked nose. "Ahhh Arthur," he began gently. "I was wondering when I would get a chance to speak to you. I presume you are talking about the-boy-who-went-missing?"
'Arthur had always been a good Gryffindor and very easily led by his grandfatherly image,' he mused paying close attention to the man. He had made a valuable contact over the years, and would continue to provide him with the information he needed.
Arthur grinned excitedly from his place in the fire, his glasses shone reflecting the green glow of the floo fire. "I am indeed talking about Harry Potter and just in time for Hogwarts; you must be thrilled headmaster."
"I am Arthur, I am, and you must be exited about your own son entering this year. Ron would make a great friend for the boy," he commented. Albus's gentle smile and sparkling eyes carefully masked his suspicions about the timing of Harry Potter's re-emergence into wizarding society. "After all growing up in a muggle household can't have taught him very much about the wizarding world could it."
Still his casual hint would probably pay off and give him one more avenue to explore Harry's life, one that could prove incredibly important through the years if Ron was as easily led as his father.
Arthur's smile slid from his face and his eyes started to fill with shadows and doubts at Albus's words. "Headmaster, from what I've been hearing he might need all the help and support he can get. We may have made a terrible, terrible mistake by leaving him with his last remaining blood relatives." The headmaster barely contained a worried frown at Arthur's words. Now he was very interested in what the ministry had discovered of the missing Harry Potter.
"Nonsense Arthur," Albus waved dismissingly at the floo fire "that was the safest place for him after him after Voldemort's demise. The blood magic protected him from some very dangerous individuals, some of whom are still unaccounted for today."
'Besides,' he thought 'having little to no knowledge of the wizarding world would allow for a much more malleable student, allowing me to shape him that much more easily. His placement with his relatives ensured that he was safely out of the way until he had grown up enough to be useful.' He carefully suppressed the small voice that pointed to the failure of his plan by allowing Harry to be kidnapped and the uncertainty it had subsequently added into any future dealings he would have with the boy.
"It wasn't the wizarding world we should have worried about. There are suspicions of child abuse in his police file, and when I asked around his old school it certainly seems a very real possibility to me; I haven't found evidence yet and neither have the muggle police but…"
Albus frowned in concern as the portraits behind started to chatter more loudly, Particularly vocal was the portrait of Dily's Derwent, but that was to be expected, as a healer she would have abhorred and been more sensitive to any sorts of child abuse than the others.
What concerned him greatly was less the abuse and more the effect the abuse would have on the boy. One could never tell in advance, and the results could be disastrous to his plans. Tom Riddle's abuse as a child played a direct role in him becoming Lord Voldemort, the most feared Dark Lord in history. 'This changes things again,' he though in annoyance, 'Harry Potter was becoming more and more problematic'. Still, there was the vague hope that it was not true, no evidence had been found after all.
"I'm sure that…" Albus refocused on what Arthur was saying. Both Molly and Arthur, as parents to seven children themselves, would have been horrified to find out about even the remote possibility existed that the boy was abused.
"It's alright Arthur," he started, cutting him off. "I have arranged for a room at the Leaky Cauldron, Diagon Ally, for Harry until the start of the school year. That will give us plenty of time to get to the bottom of these claims without leaving Harry in a potentially damaging environment. It's better to err on the side of caution in these situations after all."
"Now how is Ron looking forward to his first year at Hogwarts?" The Headmasters abrupt change of subject signaling an end to the discussions about the "boy who lived" and Arthur happily began to talk about his youngest son. Albus just wished that he could stop worrying as easily as he had changed the subjects. If these claims for abuse were true, how would it affect his plans?
"So, Hagrid," Harry began as he stretched his neck to look up at the giant man's heavily bearded face, quickly hiding his feral sneer as he broke the wax seal and opened the thick envelope. "A wizard you say. What exactly does that mean?"
He carefully hid his rapidly flickering emotions from his voice and face; after all he didn't know anything about the man except his name and the fact that he scared the crap out of his fat uncle. Not exactly a screaming endorsement.
So he didn't want to revel too much about himself and the questions that he asked, how he asked them and how he reacted to information, all revealed things about himself that he wanted to stay private or at least controlled. He would be able to filter what people saw in him and shape the image that he presented to the world, an image that for the first time in his life would not be shaped by his guardians or controlled by anybody but him.
Any information that Hagrid discovered about him, or his life could be passed onto anyone else. It wasn't a thought he was comfortable with. In his short life, whenever someone told other people about him it always lead to a worsening of his already crappy life, an increase in beatings, other punishments, and further restrictions on his freedoms.
"It means that you'll be able ta' do magic o'course," Hagrid boomed in an uninformative manner. "An' tha' letter is an invitation to go to the most prestigious wizarding school in all o' Britain." Hagrid gestured Harry to the street as he continued, "'course with you missin' for so long an' all, the Headmaster, great man that he is, has arranged transport for yeh' to buy yeh' school supplies."
Briefly scanning the contents of the letter he snorted in amusement and admiration at Hagrid's answer. He of course didn't know anything more about wizards and what they were capable of than what he would have known from reading the invitation or the list that accompanied it. All in all a beautiful and cunning dodge. Clearly they were waiting for a response when he discovered it for himself, they would be disappointed.
The scrawled invitation to Hogwarts on the thick parchment was accompanied by a list of school supplies, which would be needed for first year. The man was either very clever at avoiding questions or he was hard of hearing. If it were the former then he was likely reporting back to someone else and that made Harry even more cautious.
Stuffing the letter into the pockets of the clothes he had been gifted with yesterday by the police officers, he followed Hagrid down the street, presumably towards Diagon ally. 'It was either that or go back to the Dursley's' he thought filling only contempt for his blood relatives and he would rather chance the offer of a new life than risk being stuck with the Dursley's until his majority.
Harry blinked with surprise as he rounded the corner of his street and almost ran into four horses attached to a carriage blocking the sidewalk. This in it self was a strange enough occurrence in Surrey but even stranger was the fact that the carriage was like none he had seen before, in life or in a book, detailed gold gilding and rich wooden carvings covered its surfaces in glaring statement of wealth. Even his readings on European monarchs described carriages more unassuming than this one.
Then there were the horses that led it. It was the horses that finally convinced him that Hagrid was not off his rocker and perhaps there was some truth in this magic racket. If intimidated enough, he could well see his uncle passing him off to complete strangers for who knew what nefarious purpose. Harry suppressed a shudder at the thought and gazed
at the horses with carefully disguised interest.
The strange horses were huge, winged with what could only be described as dragonish faces and necks, and had incredibly skeletal and black bodies. It was the eyes that most caught his attention though as he approached them in amazement. The eyes appeared too large for the creatures head at first glance, but that, he supposed, could have been an illusion created from the apparent lack of a pupil. He was mesmerized by the smallest wisps of color that swilled around the milky orbs in an almost hypnotizing effect.
The creatures looked deadly, he thought as he approached them with caution, and not something he would have imagined would be used to draw a carriage. While he no longer seemed small for his age after his kidnapping, these creatures looked deadly and towered over his small body. He couldn't help but wonder in amazement how it was that no one had noticed such a display, especially in the middle of Surrey.
'If there was ever such a thing as magic,' he thought, thinking of the irony of the situation. 'It's that the gossiping housewives, that for years failed to notice the neglect and abuse that I suffered at the hands of the Dursley's, are missing out on the gossip of the century. These animals, in the middle of Surry would set alight their conversations for decades.'
Misunderstanding Harry's stare, Hagrid enfolded his shoulder in one of his huge hands causing Harry to consciously repress the flinch at the unusual human contact. "Don' you worry 'arry, they aren't dangerous. Well as lon' as yeh' don't annoy them, then they might take a bite outta you if yeh'. Na, Thestrals are dead useful and jus' misunderstood."
Nodding in understanding, Harry ducked under Hagrids overly large hand and walked to the carriage as if the giant winged creatures didn't bother him at all. 'Which they didn't' he thought with a hint of a superior smirk as the animals ruffled their thick mains and stamped their hooves. 'I was much more worried about Hagrid's hand, hooves I can avoid with distance, a hand that close – no chance. I recon his fist would be almost the size of my head, definitely something to be avoided.' He thought with concern as calmed his thoughts and blanked his face of anything that may be viewed as provocative.
Once again he missed the sadness and guilt that flashed across Hagrid's face as he slipped from underneath Hagrid's hand and smoothed his face of all expression.
Still wondering how the Thestrals had avoided notice from the noisy and constantly gossiping neighborhood, Harry climbed into the carriage after Hagrid had calmed the restless animals. 'No doubt if I asked' Harry thought with annoyed distain 'I'd just get "Why magic Harry"'. The inside of the carriage was as luxurious as the outside; soft leather seats and a polished wooden interior gave a very relaxed but decadent feel to the surprisingly smooth ride to Diagon Ally.
He would not easily trust the giant of a man that had barged so suddenly into his life, even though getting him away from the Dursley's was a point in his favor. He didn't trust anyone needlessly and in the past that had meant that he hadn't trusted anyone. He doubted that would change anytime soon, but secretly he knew that he had to open up to someone if he wanted to change his image and establish his independence away from those that sought to control him.
'Not exactly who I imagined taking me away from the big bad Dursley's when I was younger though,' he thought with a sarcastic sneer, that was carefully hidden from the other passenger, as he imagined the huge burly man with a sword. 'Such a childish notion it was too.' "How do you expect me to buy anything without a single pound on me," Harry asked, not really expecting an answer but if he had to start a new image then the question had to be asked and it was perhaps a question that might have been expected from someone his age.
Without a source of money he could always steal what he couldn't get away with borrowing, he mused. Although his education thus far had been pretty poor and mostly self taught and directed, he had quickly learnt that most things could be acquired if really necessary. As long as he didn't get caught, no one paid too much attention to his often fifth or sixth hand goods. 'And,' he thought quietly 'I can't afford to get caught if I am to present the image I have in mind.'
'Still even if I can easily steal what I need, how am I going to know what to acquire and what to borrow if I can't even interpret some of these supplies. These potion ingredients look particularly indecipherable.' Harry was so caught up in his thoughts and plans about what he could do and how he would go about it that he almost missed Hagrids booming response to his question. "Why wif' yeh' inheritance o' course. Did yeh' think yeh' parents would leave yeh' nothin'." Harry stilled with surprise, 'money that the Dursley's hadn't got their hands on? And how long will that last before someone takes it away or enforces there own control over it?' he thought bitterly.
He had never had possessions of his own and any that he acquired were quickly destroyed and stolen. 'No,' he thought aggressively 'if its true then I will have to quickly make sure that it is safe, with no opportunity of anyone taking it from me. Still I wonder how my parents had enough money to pass along to me if they were a pair of drunks and
whore's. Not that I wouldn't put it past my Aunt to have lied about that as well.'
He noticed Hagrid shoot a few glances in his direction, before they reached wherever they were going. In all his experience dealing with people he could decipher the looks of pity, anger and fear but there were more prominent expressions, which touched the giant man's face that he had not seen anywhere. Thinking of his own actions he shrugged. If the man decided to punish him, with him so close there wasn't much he could do about it but if it were true that he was a wizard then it wouldn't be long before he learnt to protect himself and his things from even his uncle – size be damned. And with that thought he couldn't be more pleased.
Sitting back to enjoy the surprisingly smooth ride, Harry reached up to adjust his glasses only to realize that they were missing and had been since he had awoken in the rubble and rain. Yet he could see perfectly, it was strange - as he had needed glasses since he was three. 'Another mystery that is attached to that damned hole in my mind, along with my growth spurt and those two strange memories, I will break through that block and remember, it is just a matter of time.'
Startled out of his thoughts and his determined tirade by the slight movement of the carriage signaling their arrival, he straightened preparing to get out. After allowing himself to be helped out of the large carriage, Hagrid gestured at the crowded street of shops and boomed out with excitement, "Welcome to Diagon ally 'Arry."
Harry could certainly see why the man was excited. Even though the ally bustled with activity it was like being stuck in a time warp, the clothing everybody wore was centuries out of style and the way animals crowded the streets with the humans intrigued Harry, but also filled him with doubt about the cobble stoned ally's hygiene.
Flashing and glittering signs, an application of magic rather than technology, Harry guessed, marked the largest shops in the ally while smaller shops often had displays of some curiosity or another to attract attention. Often they would be producing colorful smoke and a producing a lot of noise adding to the general noise level and activity of the
wizarding centre. Restaurants could be seen squeezed between shops with their multicolored umbrellas and silver tables mingled with the crowd. He supposed he would need to get used to life here for the next few years if this was where he would be buying supplies for the next few years.
The lack of gawking or even a gasp of amazement from Harry seemed to dampen Hagrid's mood significantly, "right." He grunted sadly "This way then," then started dragging him in the direction of Gringotts, the wizarding bank. "We'll get yeh' some money and then we'll see about the rest of yeh list o' supplies."
Weaving between the crowds and watching carefully for animals, lest he step on them, Harry carefully observed both the inhabitants of the ally and the shops and restaurants that lined the ally, he quietly absorbed the atmosphere and judged the dynamic of the place. No one had told him how long his magical schooling would take but if it was anything like non-magical schooling then he guessed around six years. If he spent that
long in the magical world then he would inevitably be revisiting Diagon ally so he absorbed as many details as he could so as not to be dependant on anyone next time.
Besides, dealing with people was definitely not something he was used to and since to his mind no one knew him in the wizarding word he would be free to observe and slowly start to build the profile of what he had in mind.
It wasn't long before they arrived at a large building of polished white marble complete with archways and columns with a large glittering sign proclaiming it as Gringotts the Wizarding Bank. A few stairs lead into the building of classical Greek architecture and a short dark skinned figure in a scarlet and gold uniform stood guard at the entrance to the bank.
Stopping beside Hagrid in the eddy in front of the bank, Harry looked closer at the baldhead and pointed noise and realized that this person wasn't human. Not that he was too surprised that non humans existed and participated in wizarding society after his encounter with the Thestral drawn carriage, but seeing them and suspecting where two very different things. Noticing the direction of his gaze and correctly guessing its
cause Hagrids eyes lit up, "Never mess with Goblins, Harry. They can be quite vicious."
Harry had to wonder about Hagrid's attitude towards non-humans and he had caught a number of disdainful and superior glances directed towards the goblins from a number of wizards and witches. 'They may work together but they don't really get along,' Harry thought with interest and the beginnings of a plan.
Not acknowledging the larger man's answer to his unspoken question, Harry climbed the stairs and casually nodded at the Goblin guard standing at the burnished copper door. His experiences and lack of trust did not extend to non-humans and he decided that he would give them the benefit of the doubt. Something that, it appeared from what he had seen, the wizarding community did not.
After all, he could be quite vicious too in his own way, when he could get away with it, and his experience with the Thestrals had been much more positive than any of his other initial meetings in his lifetime.
Entering a large amphitheatre filled with more polished white marble columns that led to a large silver door with an inscription engraved into it, Harry suppressed his excitement as he realised that the insides of the building was very much larger than the outside. That curiosity had answered his initial question of what it meant to be a wizard and what magic was capable of in a more impressive manner than any mere explanation could. If magic were capable of playing so casually with space-time, then protecting his and his own from physically larger threats would be child's play.
As he approached, the engraving in the silver door became clear.
Enter, stranger, but take heed
Of what awaits the sin of greed
For those who take, but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn.
So if you seek beneath our floors
A treasure that was never yours,
Thief, you have been warned, beware
Of finding more than treasure there.
"Gringotts is the safest place in the world fer anything yeh want ter keep safe -- 'cept maybe Hogwarts," Hagrid commented as he pushed the massive doors open and entered the bank proper, showing a casual familiarity with the bank and ignoring the two goblin guards standing at both sides of the silver door.
'I could begin to like these goblins,' he thought with a grin which only goblins guarding the entrance of the bank could see as he nodded in acknowledgement. 'That philosophy would match me perfectly if I had the power to back the threat up.' As he followed Hagrid into the bank his face re-assumed the blank mask that he had become so accustomed to wearing and he completely missed the look of surprise that filtered over the guards faces.
"Eres yeh' key then," Hagrid announced as they approached a line leading to one of the many tellers. "I got some other business to attend to 'ere. I'll meet you ere when you finish then." Hagrid left him standing in one of the shorter lines, gripping his key while he moved to a larger line at the back the bank. 'We'll,' he grunted in frustration and no
small amount of annoyance before he could stop himself, 'I guess it can't be too hard if he left an eleven year old, completely unfamiliar with the wizarding world or banking to handle his own affairs. Then again someone did leave me with the Dursley's.'
Despite his uncertainties, in some ways it was a relief when Hagrid left him to deal with the goblin teller alone since he would have no one else trying to find out his business. As soon as he had been told that he had gained some kind of inheritance, Harry had been thinking about how he could ditch the larger man, though perhaps not before he had been shown a little more of goblin etiquette. He may not have the power to protect his property yet but he would do all he could do to make sure that only he was able to access and control it.
His expressionless mask firmly in place, Harry confidently walked up to the teller firmly repressing any doubts that floated around unwanted in his stomach. "What can I do for you little wizard," wheezed out the goblin teller as he got closer to the counter. The distain and deep distrust in the goblins voice was easily audible to someone with Harry's
background and almost caused him to frown in confusion. To someone without his history it would have been very difficult to detect. As it was his face was carefully blank of any expression that may give away his thoughts so was it aimed at him specifically or wizard kind in general?
"I need to talk to someone about my finances master goblin." It was the goblins turn to be confused at his neutral tone and respectful words. The confusion was written all over the creature's dark skinned face. 'Well," he thought, "Isn't that interesting. Either he is not used to clients being quite so unemotional or he isn't used to being addressed as master goblin. Something to think about.' He had not missed how the people before him had treated the goblin as little more respect than a servant.
"Key," Harry handed his key over without any complaint, unsure what to expect. Hagrid had just handed it over to him expecting him to know what it was or what is was for and what it did. He did not. "Very well mister…" Hary's face broke into a hard snarl, teeth just visible on the right side of his mouth. All sparkling vanished from his eyes in favor of deadly orbs of flashing green. It wasn't a look he practiced often, only when he could be sure that no one would find out that he was not as broken, and subjugated by years of abuse, as he appeared.
"Sir," the goblin continued smoothly and Harry's face once again assumed its expressionless look. "Gormr will see you beyond those doors," the goblin finished handing back his key. The previous distain and mistrust which coated his words having been replaced by … intrigue, 'well, I guess I'm not the only one that dislikes and does not trust at the drop of the hat. Though I wonder what Wizards have done to goblins to embed such a level of hate into the goblins that even their everyday dealings is coated with it?'
Following the directions of the teller, he passed further lines of wizards and entered a gold trimmed door into what appeared to be a private office. A large metallic table, too large to fit through the door sat at the centre of the room and numerous pieces of mediaeval weaponry and amour decorated the room, interspersed with fine artworks and carvings. All displaying a skill in metal working that Harry found amazing, still he would not be distracted from his business, he took in what information he could in a single glance and promised himself he would re-examine the memory later.
Sitting down opposite the goblin behind the desk, Harry refused to be intimidated by the feral grin, which displayed the goblins numerous sharpened teeth; apparently he was not at all concerned with putting a potential client at ease. "So Mister Potter," the goblin drawled "Haraldr has informed me that you wish to discuss your finances and maintain the privacy which only Gringotts can offer. Why?"
Harry's mind was working furiously as he looked at the Goblin behind the desk, not at all intimidated by his sharp teeth or overbearing attitude. He had spent so long hiding behind masks and distrusting the world that he found it almost impossible to do anything else, and yet if he was to gain the power to protect himself and his, and to fulfill his promise to
himself then he would need to do just that. This was possibly the first step, he would need to take a gamble and hope that it paid out. It was an action that he found diametrically opposed to his very being but to achieve his goals…
Still that did not mean he needed to be hasty, "I did Gormr." Harry allowed for the first time in years for all his masks to fall and a fierce and mischievous grin to form, "I have had." Harry paused as if searching for the correct words, "reason to distrust my colleagues and peers in the past. Too many have had power over my possessions and my person in the past and have abused that power, that once I found out I had a sum of money at your establishment I found myself," once again he paused for effect. "Reluctant to trust more than I needed to."
Gormr sat forward and stared at Harry searchingly as if measuring him up and refining his impressions of him in his mind before he replied showing that his hard eyes hid an intelligence and cunning earned by hard experience, "and yet you have repeatedly relaxed your masks to the goblins within this very building. Goblins, which I might add, that have no influence over you or your finances. I ask again, why?"
Harry widened his grin and sharpened his gaze at the goblin before him, "I have only been introduced to the magical world recently, but while my knowledge of its history and people is non-existent, I have very good instincts. Instincts that have been ground into me by experience. Walking through Diagon ally and keeping my eyes and ears open has told me more than enough to let me draw an important conclusion. People are people, regardless of whether or not they have magical ability. They have the same concerns, feel the same emotions, fear and hunger for the same things. It is only their magic that allows them to go about it differently and that is reason enough to distrust them, just as I have learned to distrust my peers in the muggle world."
Harry paused watching Gormr's face carefully, "thus far I have only encountered goblins and Thestrals, of the magical creatures. Goblins I have found to harbor the same mistrust and suspicion of wizards that I do for unknown reasons and reading between the lines, Thestrals are feared or hated for existing. Besides," he commented with false flippancy, "I find the goblin philosophy close to my own for what I suspect is similar reasons."
"You are very unique among wizards Harry Potter, and still very young to be so jaded," Gormr hissed between his sharpened teeth as he accepted his key. Harry could see from the glint in the goblins eyes that he had struck a nerve and perhaps even touched upon something which Harry was not even aware of, but which would make his gamble of trusting these magical creatures much more interesting.
"Your finances consist of two vaults, a Potter family vault – very old blood that, and a trust account which draws upon the family vault. This key will only get you access to the trust account, which will limit your spending to that of 1000 galleons a month, but since it has not been accessed in over ten years it has a substantial sum in it which has been collecting interest."
'Typical,' thought Harry with disgust 'I may have money in which to buy possessions of my own but once again I have been left without any knowledge that I will need to function in this magical community without relying on someone else. Is independence so much to ask for?'
"Has anyone else got access to either of my vaults other than myself?" Harry asked with a deceptively calm face.
"Only your magical guardian and he has chosen to freeze your accounts rather than let Gringotts administer them. It has been collecting interest but at a much lower rate than it could have been. Much, much lower and over ten years this has made a large difference to the size of the account."
Harry froze, who would make such a financially inept decision and why? He had had little financial education in his short life, but even he understood what compound interest was. And why if he had a magical guardian had he been left so ignorant of his heritage. "Who is my magical guardian," he asked in a frigid tone.
"Albus Dumbledore of course, Mister Potter." Gormr's reply confirmed his suspicions and turned his ice-cold anger into a blistering rage. 'That bastard,' he thought 'he is just as guilty of neglect as my bastard relatives. More so, it is no co-incidence that the principle to my new school is also my magical guardian. The world really IS full of manipulative and cruel people. To think he could have…' he cut that thought off instantly. It was no good thinking of what might have been. Instantly his face had assumed the expressionless mask that he was so used too.
"Is there any way that I can cut or at least limit that access and allow Gringotts to resume control over my accounts. Money not being used is money wasted." His voice displayed none of the fury that moments ago had flooded his thoughts. He had no doubt that the goblin was aware of his anger but he would not allow it to influence his decisions.
"Not directly, Mister Potter, but I will see what I can dig up." He could tell that Gormr was pleased with something, but he could not determine what it was exactly, then again he assumed that they charged commissions and he would benefit from such a transaction. 'Something I'll bring up next time.'
"Griphook," Gormr shouted out moments before a slender Goblin ran into the office. "Show Mister Potter to his vault." Griphook looked at Harry expectantly before turning to leave just as Gormr added almost as an after thought, "oh and give him the full treatment will you."
Harry caught the suspicious look that the two goblins shared before following Griphook, his guard firmly raised against any surprises. He still did not trust the goblins fully, but he would give them the benefit of the doubt, besides he suspected that this was some test by the older Goblin, and he was determined to pass, it was the first of many steps to power and independence.
Walking past lines of wizards waiting for service, Harry wondered where Hagrid had disappeared too and then shrugged. He had mentioned that he had business to attend to and he was not finished his own either, so it hardly mattered if he could not find the giant of a man amongst the crowd. Griphook gestured to some kind of mining cart which stood on rails and looked like they descended into some kind of shaft. Harry just nodded playing everything by ear. His accounts had been constantly referred to as vaults so he assumed they were underground. The mining cart and rail tracts just confirmed his assumption.
Climbing into the cart behind Griphook he gripped the sides as the goblin pressed a button, setting the cart off along the tracts like a rocket. He was glad that something seemed to be holding him in place, magic he assumed, because by the time the journey was over he had counted a number of sharp turns that would have flung him out of his seat as he lost his grip. He refused to show his growing nausea or fear though, he assumed this was the full treatment that Gormr had mentioned and that his performance would be reported and judged.
From what he had been able to tell of the catacombs as they flung through them at speeds that blurred the rock around them, the goblins had deliberately built them into horribly complex mazes. He had counted enough loops, rises and drops to thoroughly confuse his sense of direction. A security precaution he guessed, and a good one.
As the cart slowed and stopped, Harry stepped out after Griphook, firming the shaking muscles in his legs and forcing a cheerful smile. "Thank you Griphook, that was a very enlightening trip." He almost laughed at Griphooks expression before the goblin managed to control himself.
"Key," Griphook demanded gruffly. Harry nodded in good humor as he handed it over and was impressed when the large golden doors opened to his vault. It was enormous cavern that had the appearance of being chipped out of the bedrock by hand. Different layers of earth colored the sides of the chamber and the ceiling was coated by a waxy black material from centuries of oil torches providing light in this dark pit deep under the earth.
Large piles of coins were piled everywhere. Gold, silver and gold coins covered every surface and to Harry's mind it was more money than he could have imagined. 'If this is only my trust account' he thought with amazement and not a little bit of possessiveness, 'then I'm stinking rich.' "The gold ones are Galleons." The goblin said following him in and shoving a small clothe sack into his hands. "Seventeen silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle."
Harry nodded in thanks at his unspoken question, he had never seen wizarding currency and he was grateful for the goblins help. He quickly filled three quarters of the sack that Griphook had passed him with the golden coins, when he began to purchase some of his supplies he would probably fill the sack with change and he could always come back if he needed more. "Is there a way I can secure this so only I can access it," Harry asked curiously as he finished filling the sack.
He would hate for some pick pocket to steal even a small amount of his wealth, and he had a feeling that securing gold was something that goblins excelled at. "For a galleon I can key the sack to your blood," replied Griphook with a devious smile producing sharp looking claws he hadn't noticed before. Nodding uncertainly he handed a gold coin over to the goblin and allowed him to slash his palm drawing blood and smearing it into the cloth sack, now filled with Galleons.
Griphook mumbled indecipherably for a moment and Harry watched in amazement as the blood soaked into the cloth sack and quickly disappeared. "Thank you Griphook, now lets get out of here," Harry announced as he attached the surprisingly light bag to his person, and retreated from the vault.
Griphook just looked startled then grinned in anticipation before hoping into the cart and pulling out a long black strip of cloth. "Before we leave Mister Potter, if you are serious about maintaining your anonymity for the rest of your shopping in Diagon Ally, then you should put this on." Once he had watched Harry wrapped the black material around his
forehead, and tied a knot in the back and nodded in thanks at Griphook, who then pressed the button on a consol at the front of the cart and they shot of like a rocket back up to the surface.
Harry's eyes glittered darkly as he thought about how his inheritance opened opportunities he had thought long closed to him and he began to consider all of the new possibilities for the rest of his shopping trip in Diagon Ally.