''A strong woman is a woman determined to do something others are determined not be done.''
– Marge Piercy
CHAPTER TWO
Since Florence had disapparated out of Privet Drive before dawn, she had not been idle. Her first stop was at Gringotts for obvious motives; she was thankful that the goblins didn't have what the majority of humans – muggles and magicals alike –considered office hours. After all, it was the only magical bank in all Great-Britain, and as much as the average witch and wizard would like to admit, the goblins had others assorted clients who weren't able, for various reasons, to take care of their financial business during the day.
After apparating in a small dark alley behind Gringotts, the first thing that she did was checking her Occlumency shields. She could not allow herself to be emotional; she had to be calm and collected at all times if she wished to accomplish everything in mind without major suspicions upon her. Confirming that, indeed, they still stood as strong and unbreakable as ever, she turned her mind to more physical necessities.
Florence conjured some light and a mirror to check her appearance. As someone intending to claim several Ladyships of old Pureblood families, she was aware that it would not do to present herself publically as less than the perfect heiress that she wished to portrait to the world. Thus, she transfigured her simple, black winter robes to a dark green velvet dress and cloak ensemble richly trimmed by golden thread. Next she checked her make-up (while studying at Hogwarts, she had never cared much about how she looked, though that had changed after she had reached adulthood). She reapplied her black eye-liner and red lipstick, forgoing any blush, as she was already quite pink in the cheeks due to the freezing cold. Lastly, she moved her hands to her just above shoulder, straight black hair and wandless and wordlessly moved it back in place, her fringe falling neatly to the right side of her face and showing a clear and unblemished forehead.
Satisfied with her image, with head held high and assured pace, Florence moved up the stairs of the imposing white building and directed herself to one the free goblins, seated behind a desk studying some precious gems, in the bank's reception hall.
''Well met, Master Goblin'', Florence spoke to the creature politely with one of their simple but traditional greetings, receiving a slight surprised look in return. When she had his full attention, she stated her intentions in a lower tone. ''I'd like to meet with Lord Ragnok about a very critical situation with some of your Vaults.''
The goblin eyed her suspiciously at that. It was perfectly understandable; it was not every day that someone asked for an audience with their ruler, and an unknown witch at that.
''And who is requesting such a meeting?'', the teller demanded after a few seconds of scrutiny, never losing his guarded expression.
''Florence Peverell.''
The goblin simply raised his eyebrow at her last name, the only show that he indeed recognised it.
''And care to tell me what is the motive for such a warranted meeting with our Lord, Miss Peverell?''
Florence looked around to see if there was someone close by. After ensuring that they both were the only living beings in hearing range, she answered in a low but confident voice:
''It is my understanding that there is a high possibility that there is someone stealing from several Pureblood Families' vaults. And I have reason as well to suspect that there is inside cooperation with said thief as well.''
The creature had turned several different colours listening to that bombshell, and for the first time ever Florence could witness a goblin lose completely his cool and not immediately after regain his mask. The young woman fully realised that what she had just said could be considered the capital offence for the goblins whether it was a true or false accusation; after all, the bank's greatest pride was being the safest place in the world to guard wizards' money. So if it was true, it meant there was at least one traitor in their midst and they had been successfully stolen from without anyone the wiser for an undetermined amount of time; and if it was a lie, they needed to take severe actions against the person who had the audacity to slander their establishment's reputation with such unforgivable fabrications.
After the creature took several calming breaths to control his temper, he barked in his native tongue for a couple of guards standing at attention in one corner of the hall. As they quickly approached them, Florence stood her ground and easily kept her inexpressive face in place, not showing any of her feelings or thoughts. She knew perfectly well that she was in the right, but that did not mean that those creatures were not intimidating and not to be underestimated by anyone. She had come to have a very healthy sense of self-preservation, at least.
''Please, follow us, Miss Peverell'', the goblin teller gruffly said, having recovered some control, taking the lead to the great doors at the end of hall, on the opposite side of the large entrance.
Florence obeyed silently and promptly, not wanting to give him any minimal motivation for turning his explosive temper on her person before the facts were laid out and confirmed.
After walking through several hallways that seemed more a maze to her, they finally stopped a few metres away before a couple of great wooden doors, with magnificent war scenes which appeared to be painted in pure gold.
''Please, wait here a moment'', the attendant ordered, before reaching the great doors. He knocked loudly and entered shortly after.
Florence felt the suspicious and silent gazes of the two guards on her, though she tried her best to ignore them while she waited. It was of the upmost importance that this meeting progressed the way she wished it to go, as everything that she had planned for after relied heavily on her inheritance and the goblins' help in some bureaucracy. She would need some falsified documents such as a Birth Certificate and O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. results, as she did not existed in this timeline; and if the creatures were not inclined in helping her, she would have a very difficult time in doing what needed to be done. Although, she felt positive that at least at the bank there would no problems. After all, she was helping them catch a traitor and a thief in their middle, and even if she wouldn't be able to claim Harry Potter's vaults, they knew that there could be a mutiny from the wizards and witches if they were informed that their Saviour, after all the torments he had been through, had been robbed as well of his own money all his life and the goblins never had known or taken any action against that crime.
Not much long after, the teller stepped out of the closed room, and silently signalled her to enter. His face was once again unreadable, and Florence couldn't sense whether that was a good or bad thing.
The room she stepped into was a very large office; richly decorate with precious and ancient weapons and tapestries depicting war scenes littered around the halls. Directly in front of her, there was a large and opulent desk with matching armchairs on the side nearest the door and on the opposite sat an aged goblin that she knew was Ragnok (who she had met once before in her world), who's figure screamed power and wealth and his steady gaze studied her silently.
''May your enemies fall at your feet, Lord Ragnok'', Florence greeted politely with a low bow, before standing straight and impassive again.
''And may your gold always flourish, Miss Peverell'', the goblin ruler responded in kind. ''Please, have a sit as it seems we have much to discuss.''
She did as requested, at the same that she noticed behind her, the guards standing in front of the door once again closed and the teller standing beside his lord.
''Slowfire tells me that you have critical information about a grievous offence committed inside these halls'', the older goblin started, his tone neutral, never taking his eyes of the only human in the room. ''Can you explain us how is that you came by this knowledge?''
''First, before I expound on any facts, I'd like for a Secrecy Oath from anyone present in this room.'' When she saw that Ragnok did not like her answer and was readying himself to say something, she quickly continued, her demeanour as sincere as she was able, ''Please, the details of what I have to tell you are delicate and cannot fall in other people's hands, as there could be grave consequences.''
Florence stopped and waited for some kind of reaction from the two goblins for a moment; when none was forthcoming, she asked, already knowing that it was a guaranteed way of getting a response. ''What do you know of the Deadly Hollows and the Master of Death?''
Silently, she moved her right hand in a circular motion and the Fabled Resurrection Stone appeared in her palm. She didn't have any fear that the Stone could leave her grasp, as since she had officially accepted her mantle as Mistress of Death, the Hollows became a part of her as much as her heart or limbs. If any of the Hollows were taken from her, by any means, they would promptly come back without any need of action from their rightful owner.
Sure enough, their reactions were instantaneous. Slowfire's eyes were wide as they could get, his mask no longer in sight; Ragnok's response was more contained but no less genuine, before a calculating expression descended upon his face.
''We meet at last, Domina Mortem. I have been waiting for this meeting for a very long time,'' the goblin ruler courteously stated after a few moments, shocking Florence.
For a tiny second, the witch's mask fell away and her emotions were bare for the goblins to see. However, she recovered quickly and she felt composed once more.
''Were you, perchance, aware that I would be coming to Gringotts?''
''I only knew that the Master of Death would eventually step inside these walls. Your arrival was foresaw by one of our Seers a long time ago'', Ragnok explained, still with his calculating look. ''Her prediction was sufficiently vague that no one was ever able to deduct exactly who this person could be or even when this event would be come to pass. We only were able to understand with certainty that with this individual would come as well great change to everyone, wizards and magical creatures alike.''
Florence found herself nodding along at his words. There were no doubts that the goblin spoke the true, as he outlined in a very general fashion what her plans were to the Wizarding World.
''Nevertheless, I still expect a Secrecy Oath from each of you,'' she said inflexible, ''as the remaining details are as much or even more dangerous in other people's hands. You must understand that what I accomplished up until now and all the changes that I have every intention of bring about in the foreseeable future will be against many powerful wizards' wishes, as my goals will ruin their long-kept comfortable places of influence.''
Florence stayed silent after that statement and waited outwardly coolly for the goblins to comply with her request. This was one point where she would not budge at all. She could not take the slight risk of someone finding out about her plans and even less of where she came from. She could not begin to imagine what could happen to her if her latest travel was ever discovered; she already had suffered from some nightmares about it and they were not the least bit pleasant.
At last, the ruler of the goblin nation conceded in Florence's requirement with a nod and an out of character sigh.
''You must swear that you'll not disclose to anyone, by absolutely any means, any of the information that I'll partake with you in this room not concerning general information about my person, like my Ladyships and such that usually are common knowledge in any case'', she instructed thoughtfully. Both ruler and teller raised an eyebrow at the aforementioned Ladyships, though they made no comment of it and the witch paid no attention to them. ''And as Slowfire is already here, I'd like him to manage my future accounts. No sense in allowing more people access and knowledge to these events.''
Ragnok turned his gaze to the subject at his side and silently asked his opinion on this offer.
''I'd take the position with great pleasure, Miss Peverell,'' the goblin was quick to accept; even though he still didn't know how many Vaults Florence would claim, he was quite interested in witnessing the promised changes from a closer position.
After that, the Secrecy Oaths ensued: firstly, the two guards, who had been watching everything with keen eyes; secondly, Slowfire, who seemed eager to know what this confidentiality was all about; and lastly Lord Ragnok, who portrayed himself very calm in the face of such a binding contract to silence.
''Thank you,'' Florence said, feeling a large weight taken off of her shoulders. Even though she was mostly completed certain that the goblins would help in her endeavours, at least now she had the guarantee that whatever happened, she was safe from being discovered. ''To start with, I'd like to make the Inheritance Test, please.''
The teller quickly complied to her request and, with a click of fingers and a word spoken in his native tongue, all items necessary to create a parchment with the desired thorough information were on the desk in front of them. Florence swiftly made proper use of them and not long after, Ragnok was reading through the parchment and could not avoid the outright shock that played on his typical stoic features.
''It seems that you are even more extraordinary than I first suspected, Miss Peverell,'' he commented, his voice clearly showing his amazement, at the same time that his subject read through the new information, and several ring boxes popped on the desk.
Slowfire looked gobsmacked at them all; it seemed that he previously hadn't had great expectations for his newest client. Now, it appeared that he was swallowing his thoughts.
Florence smirked at their reactions, but didn't comment. She merely reached to one ring after another and put them methodically in the appropriated fingers, while the creatures recovered their cool.
''Gringotts will have the most pleasure in making business with you, Lady Potter-Peverell-Hufflepuff-Ravenclaw-Gryffindor and Heiress of Slytherin, '' Ragnok stated in the same breath, sounding respectful and very much pleased.
Florence made a slight grimace at her new official title; it truly was a mouthful. It was very well and good to rub it in those pompous and bigoted purebloods, however in a civil conversation it was simply ridiculous.
''Please, only Lady Peverell will do.''
''It seems that you are not the least bit surprised about these findings,'' observed Ragnok, alert to details as always.
''Yes, and that explanation is part of the reason of why I've asked for the Secrecy Oaths. You see, I am not from this time, in fact I am not from this dimension either,'' the witch revealed her greater secret at last, watching the goblins with piercing eyes.
''What?'', the teller squawked stunned, something that he would deny to his last breath, his eyes larger than ever and mouth agape.
Ragnok, however, reacted more controllably. Ignoring his subordinate's outlandish reaction completely, he merely raised an eyebrow and casted Florence his calculating look once again.
''Oh?'', it was his only prompt to expound.
Then Florence proceeded in giving them an overview of had happened in her world – a little more detailed than when she had talked with Harry, though still far from all of it – and the creatures had been appropriately revolted and horrified at the past events that, if the newly named Lady Peverell had any say in it, would never occur in this time.
To give them some time to process through all that new and disturbing information, Florence asked for the Potters Wills and the files of all her accounts for inspection. The registered retrieved money was exactly the same as her own: the same dates, the same amounts of gold (fortunately, without the heir/heiress present no one could retrieve any artefacts from the family vaults, even not the goblins without express and signed in blood permission from the rightful owner) and the same receivers.
''Here are the evidences of thievery from one of your own and from Albus Dumbledore,'' she spat out the last name as if she had swallowed the most disgusting potion ever. She gave the blaming proof to Ragnok, for him to confirm her claims. ''As I told you, Harry didn't know about any of the other vaults, and as the first transferral was on November of 1981, Harry was still a toddler and thus in no position to authorize whatsoever.''
The ruler read throughout the several sheets of parchment, his face turning harder as he perused further. At his side, Slowfire could feel his sovereign's temper raise and definitely wasn't looking forward to what would happen. It was more than certain that a least one head would roll before this day was half over.
When Ragnok reached the end of his inspection, he ordered one of the guards stationed in the room something that the witch didn't understand as she didn't speak Gobbledegook, though she suspected that it had to do somehow with the guilty goblin, which most likely wouldn't see another day alive. Not that Florence had any concerns about the fate of their traitor; the war against the muggles had assured that most of her previous compassion for anyone who wasn't dear to her had died a quick and painful death. Seeing that she still didn't know personally anyone in this time (except for the goblins, tough they were never dear to wizardkind, as they were always business oriented), it was a good thing, because she was aware that she would step in many people's toes and would not have the luxury to much care for anyone in the nearest future.
''It seems that the goblin nation owes you a thank you, Lady Peverell, and an apology to the Potter line for all that has been occurring these last years. Granted no one was aware that Griphook was acting on his own greedy intentions instead of the bank and the rightful owner, though that it's not an acceptable excuse,'' the older creature gravely stated, his words sounding understandably hard to articulate. Florence was sure that an offense of this gravity was not an everyday occurrence, thankfully. ''However, I am surprise that you didn't react outwardly to this transgression in any way.''
Florence chuckled humourlessly, recalling the moment some years prior when she unleashed her whole rightful fury on the unsuspecting goblins.
''Oh, I assure you when I first learned of this, your office was left in shambles after I regained my temper.'' Ragnok's and Slowfire's eyes widened in shock; she was aware that this office was one of the most protected in all Gringotts, actually it could be said that its wards were of the same strength as the older Pureblood Vaults. ''I simply have had the time to process this and the knowledge that now I can demand swift retribution for all the wrong done helps greatly.''
The ruler only nodded in understanding, realizing without need to be spoken out loud that the newly very powerful witch had no intention on staying quiet and not taking her revenge somehow; and that was something that he could surely appreciate.
''I believe that you'll need new documents to freely live in our world without any type of suspicion upon your person whatsoever,'' Ragnok proceeded, his tone all business, the traitor in their midst seemingly forgotten for the moment. Florence mutely nodded. ''Gringotts can, of course, procure all necessary documentation for you. Usually there is a significant fee involved, though given the state of affairs at the moment, they will be free of any charge, as an apology for the offense committed against the Potter family.''
For the next hour, the witch and the goblins decided on her new documentation: the names of her fictional parents, date and place of birth, grades desired in both O.W.L's and N.E.W.T's and mastery in Magical Defence (Florence refused to have a mastery with that prejudiced name that the British wizards like to label; as if the only thing that they needed to defend from was the Dark Arts), and everything else that they thought necessary.
