Title: Gringott's Lesser Known Branch – 4
Rating: G – with the possibility of going up (it is just a plot bunny after all, and poor little plot bunnies tend to become rabid if I ignore them too long.)
Summary: Few in the Wizarding world have a true understanding of the inner structure of the Goblin Nation or its corporate representative to the wizarding community, Gringott's Bank, much less any clue about how far they will go to protect their investments.
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"The fourth inescapable rule of existence is that an unasked question is profit lost."
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GLKB, 4
Harry sighed as he removed his outer cloak and hung it in his wardrobe, smiling as Hibby handed him a damp hand-cloth.
As much as he truly enjoyed being a Gringott's cart driver, it was simply impossible to do his job without coming away coated in layers of tunnel grit, a substance, which somehow managed to defy all cleansing, impervious, and banishing charms and which could only truly be removed with a thorough - and costly- shower. Hibby knew, though, that he had taken a shower just two days earlier, and would make himself content with heated damp towels to conserve funds and thankfully had them ready for him when he came in.
Wiping his hands and face, Harry handed the towels back to the elf and turned to his accounting desk.
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After dropping into a deep-most polite bow, Harry knelt and waited to be acknowledged the stately-dressed goblin, who was sitting at his desk reviewing his ledgers and making copious notes in a leather binder. After a moment, the goblin gave a curt nod, but continued scanning his ledgers.
"My apologies, Sir! I was not aware of your presence."
"You were not to be informed of my presence, Mr. Potter until the audit was complete."
Although he had been answered succinctly, Harry remained kneeling, patiently waiting for the goblin to give him permission to speak again.
"You have a question?"
"Sir, May I offer my humble hospitality in gratitude for your presence in my home?"
A flick of the goblin's feathered quill sent Harry and Hibby hurrying to the kitchen and out into the paddock where Harry kept the two goats he had purchased when he was eight.
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As Hibby went to Mildred, the nanny, Harry went to Edgar, the smaller of the two, and greeted the goat with a friendly, "hey fellow."
He had purchased Edgar from Jessup, after the other cart driver made a foolish and thoughtless attempt to impress the tunnel manager, Holloweyes. Hoping to get an edge in the application process, Jessup had ordered his elves to take Edgar's scrotum and use the meat for hors d'ouerves that he wanted served with the custom offering of blood soup.
While goblins considered scrota delicacies - courteous to serve to seniors and superiors whom one wished to impress- the delicacies were customarily taken only from elderly goats that had proven their value by sireing no less than seven offspring in hale and vigorous health.
As a result, had Jessup attempted to properly purchase the delicacy, he would have found a single small serving priced well beyond his ability to purchase it. Instead, Harry's friend had rashly ordered his elves to take Edgar's without even the supervision of a beast healer, which he also could not have afforded - forgetting that while they were assigned to his care, Tabby and Nort were actually in Gringott's employ.
Because of the good relationship that he had with Hibby and the other elves, Harry was one of the first to hear that Jessup had been ordered to sell the little goat, that he had kept just barely fed, to the first bidder. Harry, feeling sympathetic for the scrawny little creature that he'd had to carry home - it had been so weak, had quickly offered a bid that was well beyond reasonable given the little goat's state, then immediately after, took Edgar to the healer and bought the recommended potion recipes and ingredients. In the year since, Edgar had thrived - under Harry's care and sired a kid with both Mildred, who was due in less than two weeks and Bunka, a nanny belonging to another cart drive who paid Harry a seventy two sickle stud fee and promised Harry half the profit when its kid is sold to the animal broker.
"Good Fellow," Harry murmured, casting a gentle cleaning spell over the nick he'd made under the billie's right ear before casting a second light numbing spell and the healing charm.
Edgar bleated happily, barely noticing the blood collection, as he playfully butted Harry in the chest-clearly hoping that Harry was ready to play now that he was home from his duties.
"Sorry fellow, I can't just yet." Harry laughed and summoned a fresh bundle of spring greens that he split between Edgar and Mildered before handing off the container of blood to Hibby.
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"Your domesticates appear content, healthy, well-groomed, and productive," the auditor commented from the doorway, gesturing Hibby on to the kitchen as he cast an appraising eye over Mildred. When his eyes returned to Harry, Harry had dropped into a polite, attentive kneel. The auditor nodded at the gesture, without comment then moved from the doorway to the paddock where he gave the goats a cursory inspection, pausing only to note the slight swell of scar tissue at the burl of their ears - where the veins were closest to the surface.
"Your ledgers are in good order, your accounts appear adequately maintained, and your invesments show a positive rate of return. You are either current or in advance of your required studies, and your managers report strongly on your performance of your duties. Tell me, Mr. Potter, what are your ambitions?"
Harry paused, considering the question carefully. He had hoped that he could earn a summer internship at the London branch while going to Hogwarts, but Harry suspected that the auditor's question reffered to Harry's long term plans, and he wasn't certain how to explain why he hadn't made plans for his future beyond Hogwarts- having no true idea what the wizarding world would be like outside of Gringotts.
And then there was Gringotts. In the two years that he'd been in Gringotts care, Harry's life had improved so far beyond even the fantastical dreams of what life could be when he had lived at Privet Drive. He was never hungry. He had an entire suite of his own - with a bedroom, a dining room, the tiny kitchen he shared with Hibby and Ebby, and a study- not just a dark little broom cupboard under the stairs that dropped dust and cobwebs on him whenever his cousin decided to jump on the steps above his bed. He had friends, teachers who didn't ignore him, and managers who took him aside to offer their advice even though he wasn't having problems.
When Jessup had caused the cart accident, Tunnel Manager Holloweyes had visited him every day to check on him; and Manager Griphook had dined with him at least once a month and after every visit from one of the Headmaster's people.
Harry didn't know for certain what he wanted for himself in the future, but he was absolutely certain of one thing: "I wish to return a thousand galleons for every knut Gringotts has invested in me."
The auditor clicked his teeth with amusement, as he continued to rub Edgar's ear to the billie's delight.
"Very well, then, I shall see that you do," the auditor remarked cryptically, before dropping Edgar's ear and ordering, "Come."
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By the time they reached the dining room, Harry had given up on trying to figure out what the auditor had meant. The younger goblins that he had trained with had spoken of auditors in hushed tones and nervous rumors of anonymous bank agents who struck without warning, reviewed all ledgers and investments down to the knut, then ordered you to sell off any investments that did not meet their unspoken requirements. From what he'd heard, auditors had very little to do with the actual management of loans, acting instead as an over-sight to ensure that no individual ran up an undue amount negative returns. While the auditor's review seemed favorable toward him, Harry was not convinced that the goblin's opinion could not change at a moment's notice and kept the thirty inescapable rules of existence running in the background of his thoughts as constant mantra, in hopes that the running monologue would help him from speaking or acting rashly.
After the auditor glanced over the table with a blank almost expressionless glance and took a seat, Harry waited until he received permission to join the bank official and thanked Hibby when the elf set a bowl of blood soup, a walnut and lilywort salad, and a side of feta cheese in front of him. He'd almost worried that Ebby might overload his plate in a bid to get him to eat more, when the auditor's presence would prevent him from discarding food, but thankfully the little elf had restrained herself. After the auditor finally started, Harry crumbled the feta into his soup, and carefully sipped from the bowl as was customary to goblins.
After a moment, he felt the auditor's keen gaze on him, but politely ignored it, knowing that most of the heirs in Gringott's care avoided blood soup. While he doubted that it would ever be his favorite dish, Harry had asked Hibby and Ebby to serve it as often as they could, without affecting Mildred and Edgar's health, so that he could become accustomed to the bitter dish that was considered one of the most polite starters to serve goblin guests. Blotting his lips before turning to the salad, Harry looked up with startled surprise when the auditor clicked his teeth furiously, in a display of what goblins would consider hilarity.
"Centuries of experience should have taught me ago not to place wagers with Ragnrok," the auditor finally explained when he stopped clicking his teeth.
While Harry was intrigued by the unexpectedly personal statement, he was still uncertain whether it would be impolite to inquire deeper so he sufficed himself to clenching his fist in polite agreement before continuing to eat. Whatever the nature of their wager had been, Harry began to suspect that he was the root of it, when his gesture set the auditor off in another spree of furious teeth clicking.
"Recite for me, Mr. Potter, the twenty-third inescapable rule and it's compliments." The auditor hissed in gobbledygook.
"Yes, Auditor." Harry responded in kind, "Sir, the Twenty-Third Inescapable Rule of Existence states that before laying foundations – dig deeply. It has three compliments: the twenty first – wards and walls are for not if the ground can not support their weight; the twenty-second – a foundation of stone will crack if built upon water; and the seventh – there is no greater folly than action without knowledge."
"If I had not seen your lineage charts with my own eyes, I would have you tested for goblin blood, Mr. Potter." The auditor uttered with transparent amusement.
"Thank you, Auditor." Harry ducked his head with pleasure. To him, it was one of the most unlikely, but sought-after compliments a goblin could offer.
Goblins, by nature, culture, and experience were necessarily exclusionary individuals, seeing themselves set off from all of the other magical races by both their history of successful rebellion against the human wizarding world and their exclusion of the other non-human races, who had refused to support them in the bid against human domination. Goblins were literally a nation and a people unto themselves, who had only seen fit to monitor and intervene in the affairs of wizards when it became obvious that the wizards were neglecting investments (in the nature of untended offspring) in a manner that would have been deleterious to both peoples, and then only by the treaties and the financial powers they held under those treaties had they been able to take possession of children like Harry, whose legal guardians were negligent in their duties. While Goblins were generous and attentive in their supervision of these dispossessed children, they, nevertheless, seemed view most heirs as outsiders: individuals to be trained and tolerated but rarely socialized with or accepted in their numbers.
After flicking his fingers permissively, the auditor commented, "your gobbledygook is nearly flawless with little accent barring the lack of vibrato in consonants, but I suspect that human throats are not constructed to handle such nuances. Your recital is accurate and prompt. You were instructed by Griphook?"
"Yes, Auditor."
Returning his bowl to his plate, the auditor wiped his lips on his napkin and smacked his lips to indicate his pleasure with the dish, then tossed the remaining cubes of feta into his mouth and chewed them thoughtfully. By custom, they had reached the point when Harry could present any questions he might have, and he promptly slipped out of his seat, to one knee to do so.
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"You have questions?" the auditor inquired curiously.
"I wish to employ the fourth rule." Harry agreed.
"An unasked question is profit lost." The auditor confirmed, before flicking his fingers in permission.
"Given that you have seen fit to allow me knowledge of your presence, I presume that my audit is complete. May I inquire into the results?"
"Ask."
" Aside from the comments that you have made thus far, what is your determination on my status?"
The auditor's lips curled slightly, clearly pleased by the neutral tone Harry had used so far.
"The return on investments that Gringotts has made on your behalf, to date, have exceeded expectations. While I have yet to make my report, it will state that, based on the current rate of return, the principal invested should be increased – significantly with a corresponding increase in the rate of review."
Harry clenched both fists to express his gratitude, but remained kneeling.
"Will your recommendation be accepted?" Harry asked hesitantly when the auditor did not signal an end to the questions. It was a presumptuous question, almost to the point of being rude, but his instincts were yelling at him to ask it, and Harry was slowly learning to trust his instincts.
"Your investment has been closely monitored; you are correct in suspecting that this is a mere, if necessary formality. On receipt of my report, you will be transferred to the London branch where you will begin a new training regime designed to augment your current productivity."
The auditor's declaration startled Harry. He hadn't considered the possibility of being relocated, or heard of any other trainees (heirs or goblin alike) who had been transferred. The prospect sounded both exciting and a little daunting, but at first blush, Harry suspected that it would be a really great opportunity... until something occurred to him.
"Sir. Hibby and Ebby..."
"Your current assignment of personal assistants have been proven successful, I see no reason to elect new assistants. Similarly, Special Accounts Manager Griphook will be assigned a lateral transfer to the London branch."
"Thank you, Sir." Harry dipped into a lower bow before returning to his seat.
Barely three seconds had lapsed before Hibby and Ebby began to serve the second course, and Harry was grateful for their quick distraction. His mind was awhirl with thoughts of London, and he was almost certain he would have reversed the auditor's opinion of him if he'd been required to hold a conversation at that moment.
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"Your hospitality and company do you honor, Mr. Potter." The auditor pronounced after they finished the final course and he slid out of his seat. "I look forward to seeing you in London."
"Thank you, for accepting my hospitality, Auditor. I look forward to such future opportunities." Harry responded carefully, assuming that the auditor was referring seeing Harry due to the increased rate of review he was going to recommend.
The auditor paused at the door to comment, "Given the frequency of our interactions, Mr. Potter, it would be advisable to give you a name that you may refer to me by, other than auditor. I am Coronae Magister Magia of the Clan Ragnrok, Brother to Ragnrok of Ragnrok, President of Gringotts. Profit be ours," then swept out the door.
In his wake, Harry shifted nervously when Hibby and Ebby stared at him with wide – startled expressions.
"What is it?" He questioned them urgently, afraid that they were going to tell him that he had done something to offend the auditor, given the goblin's swift departure. Neither Manager Griphook, nor Tunnel Manager Hollow-eyes had ever left immediately after the meal, before the customary provision of drink and fire. He must have been too careful or shallow in his response, given insult. Hibby and Ebby were positively pale.
"Master Harry is not be knowing of the Crown-Maker?" Ebby asked glancing uncertainly at Hibby, who pushed her forward, trusting her to explain it better to Harry... or simply not trusting his own voice to hold out.
"Crown-Maker? No... He makes the crowns for the Kings and Queens?" Harry asked in confusion, that seemed like an odd corollary for an auditor.
"No, Master Harry, you's not be understanding perfectly," Ebby squeaked, falling into Hibby's habit of elfish grammar from her excitement. "Coronae Magister Magia... he is Crown – Maker... He is making the Crown of Magic.... Master Harry - He bes making The King! Yous is ... maybe ... being the King."