Chapter Four—Of Banks and Bankers

AN: This chapter's a bit longer at just over four thousand words. I expect them to get longer still, but will try to cap them at or around 5k words.

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Harry slipped out the door in the predawn darkness. The sun wouldn't rise for a few more minutes yet. He wanted an early start if he was to be at Gringotts before his appointment with his healer. Raising his wand, he summoned the Knight Bus, which arrived with a flash and a bang, nearly hitting him. But as always, it just missed. Harry couldn't help remembering the year before, when he'd gone flying backwards. But not now. Not anymore.

Stan, the conductor, stared down at him. "Why, it's Nev'lle Longb'ttom hisself. How'rs going Nev'lle? Ernie, say 'ello to Nev'lle."

Eyes made huge behind spectacles stared at Harry. "Oy!"

"Where to, Nev?"

Harry, amused despite himself, said, "Diagon Alley."

Stan did a quick calculation. "That'll be thirteen sickles. For another six, I can get you a hot chocolate or a tooth brush."

Harry shook his head. "Just the ride, Stan."

After handing off the money, he braced himself on a bed, grimly hanging on for dear life s the bus moved with starts and stops, hinks and jinks. After several minutes, it finally arrived at its destination. Harry slipped off after saying his goodbyes and walked up to the Leaky Cauldron. Walking through, he sneered at the decrepit appearance. You'd think Tom would clean it at least once a decade. Instead it looked the same as it did more than fifty years ago.

At least nothing had change in the patterns of bricks. Harry tapped them, and once they'd unfolded, walked through into Diagon Alley. Very few were stirring, which was to his liking. There was only the slightest hint of light in the east as he ascended the steps to Gringotts. Glancing at the creed over the door, Harry thought grimly of the last idiot who'd tried to steal from them.

With a last glance and a nod to the guards, Harry walked through the doors. Even though he was dressed in little more than rags, he walked like a king. After all, it was the attitude that conveyed your importance. At least that was what he'd always believed.

Instead of directly approaching the nearest Goblin and demanding to see his account manager, Harry paused in consideration. Tom Riddle had never been treated with one tenth of the courtesy that Harry Potter had received from the Goblins. The contrast in their approaches couldn't be more diametrically opposite. Harry, polite and gracious, self-effacing even, versus Tom Riddle, the epitome of a Pureblood, all arrogance and entitlement. No, he knew the right approach here.

Harry walked up to the nearest Goblin and waited patiently to be acknowledged. The Goblin continued working for over a minute, but finally said, "What do you need?"

Harry gave a very slight bow, and briskly said, "Harry Potter to see the Potter Family Account Manager."

The Goblin's brows went up. In a slightly more friendly tone, he said, "I am Manager Snagtooth. Who is your family's account manager."

"I do not know, sir. I have never received any correspondence from Gringotts. I was told by a friend that there should be a family account here in my name. So I came here to speak to someone about profit."

Snagtooth frowned. "Bad business. Never received a statement of your account. Yes, yes, profit." He dug through a series of cards in a Rolodex on his desk and finally found what he was looking for. "You need Account Manager Grimjaw. Wait there and I will have him summoned." He pointed at a hard wooden chair and Harry nodded and went to sit down.

That had gone well. Just the right mix of no nonsense speech mixed with a little courtesy. How wizards couldn't understand that it took only a few small things to appease a Goblin, Harry didn't know. Then again, Riddle had always behaved like an idiot around them as well. Worse, he hadn't known better, acting out of ignorance and arrogance. No wonder he'd failed.

It wasn't a short wait, but still, no more than a half hour passed before another figure, more richly dressed appeared. It was a good sign that they weren't deliberating keeping him waiting.

The short, fierce-looking Goblin asked, "Harry Potter? I am Grimjaw. Come with me."

The walk was short and ended in an large but still crowded office. Grimjaw gestured to a chair. "Have a seat. Mr Potter." Sitting down he place his hands together in a steepled position, fingers intertwined, and fixed Harry with a cold stare. Harry bore the look stoically. It might have intimidated him if he hadn't seen the things he had, but in the grand scheme of things, it didn't even rate a one.

Finally after a couple of minutes of this, Harry reasonably pointed out, "Are we going to discuss profit or would you rather sit there and try to intimidate me?"

For just a moment, Harry thought Grimjaw was going to come over the desk at him. Instead, he grated out, "For all of your talk of profit, you have wasted our time and given grave insult to the Goblin Nation."

The arrogance of the reply infuriated him, but even more than angry, Harry was perplexed. He could think of nothing that he'd done to insult the Goblins. He'd even done his best to adhere to their cultural prejudices. He hadn't been treated this way the last time he'd visited either. Tamping down on his anger so as to avoid a mistake, Harry stated, "I think that you need to explain exactly what I have done and how that insults the Goblins."

"Ignorance does not become you, Mr Potter." Grimjaw chided insultingly. "Very well, since your eleventh birthday when you first accessed your accounts, Gringotts has spent a great deal of time and research on scenarios that would prove profitable for both you as an account holder and us as your bank. Yet each time we sent you the details, you have not replied. Instead, you ignore us, leaving money on the table. Wasted our time. Our money. You take the food from our children's mouths and wonder how you have wronged us."

Harry slowly clapped his hands together. "Bravo. That was a nice speech. A little heavy-handed with the 'children's mouths' comment, but overall, quite nice. I have never received a single piece of correspondence from Gringotts. Snagtooth should have told you. You're wasting time and profit with this approach."

Grimjaw looked like he was chewing rocks. "I heard Snagtooth. But I do not believe you."

Harry shrugged. "I can't help that. Surely you have a way to test the truth? Wizards have Veritaserum. What do Goblins have?" Harry knew there was something, but couldn't for the life of him remember what.

For the first time, Grimjaw looked interested. He leaned forward and placed his chin on his steepled fingers. His eyes glittering, he said, "We do have a way. Are you, as a wizard, willing to be so tested?"

Harry swallowed. He wasn't afraid, but wariness in this situation was completely warranted. "Will I be physically injured by the test? Will my mind be impaired? Will it hurt?"

Deliberately, Grimjaw replied, "No. No. Yes."

Harry shrugged. "Then bring on your test. Pain is inconsequential. I would have your belief."

In response, Grimjaw picked up a small bell and shook it briefly. Another Goblin arrived and they conferred a moment. With a single glance of surprise at Harry, the other Goblin departed. He returned shortly wearing thick leather gloves and bearing an object that he sat down on the desk in front of Harry. The object was a thick slab of pink-hued granite, that seemed to almost pulse with an inner light. Harry could feel it pressing against his Occulmancy shields even from two feet away.

"The item in front of you, Mr Potter, is Heartstone. Heartstone will not hear lies. It will seek out the truth and test you while doing so. You will not be able to lie while touching it. It will accept no half truths or prevarications. Be brief and complete in your answers. I caution you this: Do not take your hand from the Heartstone until you are done."

Harry nodded. "I understand. I do, however, have one condition. You can only ask me five questions,"

Grimjaw showed his teeth. "Agreed. So the bargain is made. Place your hand on the Heartstone."

Harry reached out his hand and confidently placed it on the rock. The resulting pain, a combination shock and a searing sensation, nearly brought him out of his chair. Harry also nearly removed his hand from the rock. Only by sheer willpower did he stop himself. Grimjaw noted his expression and nodded with satisfaction.

"First question. Did you receive any correspondence from Gringotts since your first visit after you turned eleven?"

Through gritted teeth, Harry replied. "No, I did not."

"Do you know why you have not received correspondence from Gringotts?"

Harry started to reply to the negative, when he found he could not speak. At the same time, the sensation of pain increased. Heartstone will not hear lies. Harry was starting to understand what that meant. Blinking away tears of pain, he said, "I think it is to deny me my heritage and to keep me weak."

"Why would someone want to keep you weak?"

Harry didn't think he was going to get out of answering the question as he felt the pain increase again. His other hand was trembling in his lap as he thought as quickly as possible. "A prophecy predicted that I would be the one to face Voldemort. He was never killed. The prophecy is still in effect. By being weak, I, the person of prophecy, can be controlled."

"Who is behind this plot?"

That at least was an easy answer. There was no increase to the nerve searing pain as Harry said, "Albus Dumbledore."

Grimjaw sat there contemplatively. His anger appeared to have abated, but there was still something to be cautious of in his eyes. Harry mentally urged him to hurry and ask the last question. His hand was being torn asunder while he waited.

Grimjaw nodded. "You speak the truth. The insults are not yours. There is but one last, trivial question. You feel 'odd' to Gringotts' wards, different from when first you entered." A pause. "If you are not Harry Potter, who are you?"

Harry's eyes widened as pain seared through him. Worse than the Cruciatus. Worse than Fiendfyre. It felt as if he were dying in agony and being reborn the same. Desperately, he tried to speak. The words would not come. Heartstone will not hear lies. He tried to remove his hand from the Heartstone, but it clung there as if a Permanent Sticking Charm had been applied.

Harry fancied that he could smell meat being seared as tears ran down his face. He tried to grasp his wand with his left hand, but his fingers scrabbled uselessly at his pocket. He could not reach inside. Names ran through his head. Tom Marvolo Riddle. Lord Voldemort. Harry Tom Potter. Tom James Potter. Harry Tom Riddle. Tom Marvelo Potter. Lord Pottermort. Dark Lord Potter.

Harry couldn't breath. The pain seemed to have shut off his lungs. Black spots swam in his vision. His head swelled to bursting. If he could have spoken, he would have screamed, but a rictus gripped his chest. I will not die again, he screamed in his mind. I will not! I have too much to do!

He remembered the battle for his body as he searched for clues. He remembered...

I am you.

No. No! No! You are not me! I am... I am... I... A whisper...

I am you.

Harry could no longer see as he battled for himself. No more weakness. No more victim. I will never surrender. I will never give up. I will not be broken. I-

I am you.

What was willpower to inevitability? What did courage and heart mean to a concept? He was and he would be. Always and forever. Death was no bar to truth. Only fear tried to hide from it, to escape into the dark. Only fear.

I am you.

For a moment, he wondered if he'd left it too late, if his closed lungs would doom him to death and defeat. But then, just a fraction of the pressure crushing him eased, and an infinitely precious breath reached his lungs. With the last of his strength, he whispered, "I am Harry James Potter."

And just like that, the pain was gone. Harry snatched his hand from the Heartstone as his stomach rebelled. Dimly he heard Grimjaw speak, "Congratulations, Harry Potter, you have passed the test." Harry's only reply was the regurgitation of his breakfast all over the floor next to his seat.

Grimjaw stood up and said, "I'll leave you for a moment to freshen up." With that, he walked out.

Harry laborously straightened. That bloody son of a bitch, he thought grimly. He'd been played for a fool by a Goblin. After a moment, his face broke out in a grim smile. He could see the humor in the situation. His arrogance had been turned back upon him by a 'mere' Goblin. Deliberately, Harry avoided the revelations he'd been given. He'd think more on that later.

Instead, Harry vanished the mess on the floor and on his shirt. He cast a Breath Freshening Charn on his mouth. Conscious of the sweat that covered his body and moistened his clothes, Harry concentrated a moment, then released his will. For second, his skin stung as if freshly scrubbed and he was spotlessly clean, even to his ratty sneakers. It was an old spell that had gone out of fashion when fresh water for bathing became widely available. Still, it was very effective for long periods of time.

Harry was sitting, relaxed, when Grimjaw came back in. The Goblin sat back down at his desk. Gone was most of the stiffness from earlier. "What can Gringotts do for you, Mr Potter?"

Harry'd had time to figure out exactly what he wanted and stated it now. "I need access to my family vaults. I want to be able to remove certain items, books, paintings, furnishings, and jewelry, as well as access the finds therein."

Grimjaw sat back. "I see. Is that all?"

Harry looked him in the eye. "I would like to discuss the scenarios whereby we can both profit."

Grimjaw nodded. "Unfortunately, Mr Potter, all of that is out of the question."

Harry almost drew his wand as a surge of rage went through him. He counted to ten, and then did it again, as he tried to control his anger. Finally, when he could speak without shouting, he said, "Why not? Isn't this what you wanted?"

"True. But I have come into additional information since then."

It was pulling teeth, Harry thought. "What information?"

Grimjaw showed his teeth. "When you first came in, I was under the impression that as the last of the Potters, you had received partial control of your inheritance, as is customary. It was so noted in your file. However, in light of the information you revealed, I checked again. Your magical guardian did not release this to you. Consequently, I cannot act with you."

"My magical guardian? Dumbledore, right?"

"Exactly so."

"Merlin's bloated left ball!" The old bastard was a step ahead of him again. Harry cursed Dumbledore with all of his heart and soul.

"I am surprised you are so upset, Mr Potter."

Harry stared the Goblin in the eye, wondering what color his blood would be. After a moment, he was able to speak with a semblance of calm. "And why is that, Grimjaw?"

"I would think you'd be grateful that I did not allow you to go down to your vaults. Without the permissions of the bank, Potter or no, you would have died a painful and horrific death."

"There's nothing frightening about death, Grimjaw." I am not Tom Riddle, Harry thought contemptuously. Riddle feared death more than anything. He, on the other hand, did not. He just feared to throw away his life for nothing. Some things, however, were worth dying for.

"Grimjaw, it appears that you and I are at an impasse. I need items in that vault and you cannot allow me access."

"Indeed, Mr Potter."

"I am curious, though. Is it Goblin law that applies here or human?"

Grimjaw stared at him. "Are you implying that we follow human law here, in the heart of our realm, Mr Potter? Weigh your words carefully."

Harry smiled. "I imply nothing. It was merely a question as to what law says I may not have access to my vaults."

Grimjaw still looked prickly as he stated, "Goblin tradition only, but human laws that we choose to honor."

Harry's eyes gleamed. "So you could choose not to honor human law? Since it is tradition only."

"I could, but I won't. You begin to waste my time, Mr Potter."

Harry stated, "Well, we can't have that. It has been most enlightening, Grimjaw." Harry casually drew his wand, and began to twirl it.

Grimjaw looked at him curiously. "Are we not done, Mr Potter?"

Harry shook his head. "Not just yet, Grimjaw. Tell me, are you familiar with the Muggle parable of the Carrot and the Stick?"

Grimjaw frowned. "Of course. It parallels a parable of our own."

"Excellent. Because you see, Grimjaw, I am going to apply it to our situation."

Grimjaw's eyes darkened. "Indeed, Mr Potter. And how, pray tell, do you plan to do that?"

Harry smiled as he leaned back, his wand still twirling slowly. "Well, first, I would tell you that I have access to the corpse of a large basilisk, aged just over a year, that I would share with you and the Goblin Nation."

"Tempting. Very, very, tempting. Such fare is a great delicacy for us. We relish this above all else. And you would part with a portion of this corpse as a gift?"

Harry declared, "I would. I would, indeed."

Grimjaw's eyes glittered with avariciousness. "How large a corpse, Mr Potter?"

Harry shrugged. "Sixty feet."

Grimjaw audibly swallowed. "That is... impressive. How did you come by such a corpse?"

Harry stated, "I cannot tell you the details. I am prevented by oath."

"Would you be willing to part with a third as a gift?"

Harry countered. "I think, rather, that a tenth would be fair."

"Come now, Mr Potter. I suspect that you want us to render the corpse and supervise the sale. A fourth would be more than fair for such a task with the added proviso that it remains a gift, not payment."

Harry shook his head. "Perhaps an eight with rendering included. I concede it is a gift."

"I can't see this as occurring for less than a fifth, Mr Potter. Surely you can agree to that? You ask much in return."

"I do. Will you concede to all of my requests first? I can't help but notice that we have not added these to our agreement." Harry thought the Goblin was trying something.

As it turned out, he was right. Grimjaw spread his hands. "All except the access to the funds in the Potter Vaults I can agree to. Those are Goblin Law and cannot be conceded."

Harry smiled coldly. "So, is it to be an eighth, Grimjaw?"

"A sixth and you may have full access to your trust vault."

Harry countered, "A sixth and full access to my trust vault with no reporting to Dumbledore."

Grimjaw quickly nodded. "Agreed, Mr Potter. Congratulations. You barter like a Goblin."

Harry nodded his appreciation. "Thank you, Grimjaw. I'll be in touch shortly with the details."

"A moment, Mr Potter. You mentioned both a carrot and a stick. Clearly, I have heard the carrot. I was curious what stick you would wield."

Harry shrugged. "it's not important, Grimjaw. We have a bargain."

Grimjaw's eyes gleamed dangerously. "Mr Potter there are those who believe that Goblins are timid creature who hide in deep caverns afraid of the surface. I assure you, we are not. I would know what stick you believe would leverage us. Is it complaining to the Wizard's newspapers? Accusations in front of the Wizengamot?"

Harry shook his head. "None of those. I will make a bargain with you. I will tell you the 'stick' for three questions on the Heartstone."

Grimjaw looked perplexed. "You wish to be tested again?"

Harry chuckled softly. "You misunderstand me. I would ask you three questions on the Heartstone. So weigh the worth of your curiosity carefully."

Several minutes went by as Grimjaw did exactly that. Finally, he nodded. "I agree. I call the price fair." He leaned in. "Now, Mr Potter, tell me of this 'stick.'"

Harry's hand closed on his wand, ready to cast. "It is very simple, Grimjaw. I was going to tell you that if you did not do as I asked, I was first going to kill you, then I was going to kill as many of your people as I could before being struck down in turn."

Grimjaw leaped to his feet, furious. "How dare you? How dare you threaten us in the heart of our power! What madness drives you that you believe that such a ploy would work?"

Harry touched terrible memories. Memories of acts so heinous, he could barely stomach knowing they happened, even if it were the past. He allowed his anger at the old bastard and any others who believed they could control him to fill him like fire until all that he saw burned and peace was a heap of ashes. He turned that gaze towards the capering creature who would challenge him. "I don't fear death. That gives me power, even if only just a fraction, over all of those who do. If you would hesitate even a second to risk all, then I would triumph over you."

Grimjaw flinched at the look in Harry's eyes, then recovered. In a wondering tone, he commented, "You are completely mad. You fear nothing? You will perish all too soon in your pursuit of power."

Harry grinned mirthlessly. "I never said I fear nothing. I merely do not fear death. Muggles back in the second great war said it best. Death is lighter than a feather, duty is heavier than a mountain. And power is not what I pursue."

Grimjaw faltered. "What then, if not power, do you want?"

Harry smiled, a thing of cruelty and cutting edges, as he stared down at the Goblin. Leaning forward, he asked, "And how many questions will you agree to for that answer, Goblin?"

Grimjaw slowly shook his head. "None, Human. Enough of this. Ask your questions. Then we are done."

Harry watched as the Goblin placed his hand upon then Heartstone, betraying the pain he felt by not even the tiniest flinch. Harry savored this payback for just a moment, then asked his first question. "Will the Gringott stand by the bargain made today even after what I just told you?"

"Yes."

"Will I be attacked by any Goblin because of my acts today or in the past?"

"No."

Harry smiled as a rictus of pain formed on Grimjaw's face. Harry wondered if the Goblin wanted to lie and threaten him so that the Heartstone took its pound of flesh.

Harry asked his last question. "Will you or anyone you commission take vengeance upon me for the events of today?"

"No."

For the first time, Harry was truly surprised. He watched as Grimjaw removed his hand from then stone, flexing his fingers. He commented helpfully, "It helps if you imagine strangling the person who asked you the questions while you're doing that."

Grimjaw gave him a strange glance. After a moment, he asked, "Is there anything else, Mr Potter?"

Harry stood, then paused. "I am curious about the answer to my last question. Not enough, mind you, to touch that bloody rock again. But curious."

Grimjaw grimaced. "Why I would not seek vengeance against you, Mr Potter?"

"Exactly."

"I answer this question, Mr Potter, both as a gift and as a warning. I would not seek vengeance against you, because unlike you, I fear death."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "I see."

Harry turned to walk away. As he was walking out the door, Grimjaw made one final comment. "I was wrong about one thing, Mr Potter. When I said that you barter like a Goblin? No Goblin would risk what you did today."

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