Part Three:
It was a few hours later when the goblins arrived. It was a rather large group, mainly armed guards surrounding a single goblin, and appropriately the humans and sole conscious Time Lord got a bit anxious.
"Peace be with you," the guarded goblin announced, "we come with no intention of harm."
He was not the biggest, but he was ornately dressed for a warrior. His breastplate was made of highly polished steel, with gold and gem detailing. His helmet, which looked Hellenistic or Roman in origin, was also of polished steel but was very plain aside from the emerald plume decorating it like a feathery Mohawk. His gauntlets and boots were steel, polished, but not detailed. At his hip was a sheath, lacquered back and highly polished, which no doubt held a deadly sword capable of decapitating a man in one sure strike.
He removed his helm, adding, "I am Ragnarok, Director of this bank and chief goblin of the Goblin Nation of the British Isles at this time." His eyes were amber; his skin like well cared for leather and as green as freshly mown grass. He only stood, at most, at forty-eight centimeters but had a commanding appearance and was built like a brick wall of pure muscle.
He continued, "I have heard that the Time Lord known as The Doctor is here in my building along with his mate, Bad Wolf, and the Boy-Who-Lived."
The Doctor came forward, making the traditional sign of goblin greeting and replying, "I am the Doctor, Chief Ragnarok; I humbly ask your forgiveness for our unannounced visit. My family was attacked in the Alley and your bank was the closest safe place. My mate, Rose, regenerated and has taken ill as a consequence."
"Well met Doctor, well met. You have no need to ask my forgiveness as I have been briefed on the situation and retroactively welcome you freely as befitting your status as Friend of the Goblin Nation." Ragnarok replied kindly.
The Doctor sighed in relief, "Thank you, thank you."
Ragnarok nodded, turning, "Sharptooth! Scalpel!" he bellowed, calling forth two of his kind. One was older, one was young. They were both wearing unadorned steel armor. They both bowed to their leader as he explained, "Doctor, Sharptooth is in charge of the Potter Accounts; Scalpel is the goblin in charge of your Account, Doctor."
"Brilliant! Thanks! Sharptooth, is there any way you can contact Madam Malkin and request that she tailor three sets of House Heirs Robes, one set for the Primary heir of both the Potter and Black Houses, one set for the Primary heir of House Malfoy and Secondary heir of House Black, and one set for the Primary of House Longbottom and Tertiary heir of House Black, sized for five year old males and having all the safety, protection, and comfort charms she can layer on them. Also, try to make an appointment with her for Wednesday this week? Charge all expenses to—"
"The Black Accounts," Sirius broke in, "charge all expenses to the Black Accounts, and ask her to use the best material she has, no expense to be spared, Acromantula silk if possible."
"Also," the Doctor began again, "Can you get me an inventory of all the Potter Accounts, items mainly, but money and property as well if possible, please?"
The older goblin nodded, "As you wish. If that is all?" and, after getting affirmative that he was needed there no longer, he bowed and took his leave.
The Doctor rounded on the younger goblin, grinning, "Pleased to meet you, Scalpel, do you have a current inventory of my account? And if you do, may I please look over it?"
"Yes sir, I shall retrieve my books," Scalpel raced off, being anxious and energetic as Special Account Number Thirteen was the wealthiest in the bank, most likely the world, and his clan had been tending to it for several centuries. If he lost the account due to poor service or management his clan would never live down the shame.
The Doctor addressed Ragnarok again, apologetically, "Your highness, can you send your warriors to retrieve my ship? Rose is in no condition to make the journey and I fear for my family's safety amongst the wizards and witches in the alley."
Ragnarok nodded, replacing his helm and saying, "I shall retrieve Her myself, Doctor." Without further ado, the goblins left, leaving the original three guards.
The Doctor turned and raised an eyebrow at Sirius; the wizard stared him down defiantly, announcing, "Harry will not have to touch the monies in the Potter Accounts until he reaches his maturity. I will pay for all his magical needs, his upkeep in the magical world; I know I can trust you and Rose to look after his other needs."
The Doctor nodded, saying quietly, "Thank you Sirius, we know that as long as you live he'll be protected." He looked at Draco and Neville, who were now both asleep.
Suddenly Remus drew his wand and with a nonverbal incantation transfigured an empty chair into a small bed that was nevertheless big enough for the two children. The Doctor pulled a large pillow, which was magically enlarged further, and a blanket from his pocket. Neville and Draco were settled onto the bed where Remus tucked them in snugly.
The Doctor carried a chair to the bedside of his family; he would rather be laying with them, holding them, however the bed was small and he was loathe to disturb them. He did however take Rose's hand, remembering his own latest bout of Regeneration Sickness and how, even though she had been quite confused, very depressed, very frightened, and uncertain, she had held his own hand until the Hostile Alien Invasion of Christmas twenty-oh-five started up.
It was all he could do really. He was sure that the day's events had shaven millennia off his life expectancy and he was fighting the intense, intense desire to take his family and hide them away in the Time Vortex for the rest of their lives. But they wouldn't stand that so it wasn't an option.
He was heartened when Rose's hand squeezed his, even if it was only a muscular reflex.
He did not notice when the TARDIS materialized into the room, nor when the goblins exited from Her. He hardly noticed when Amelia Bones and another woman arrived.
Sirius intercepted the women, pulling them to a corner and putting up a sound barrier before explaining, "Rose just cheated death, Harry's cried himself out, and The Doctor's about two steps from a meltdown; I'm Harry's Magical Advocate, you will talk to me today, not them. Understand?"
There was no room for argument so the two witches nodded in agreement.
"Good, now, show me your arms," Sirius demanded, "Not you Amelia; I know you're no Death Eater."
The DMCW worker handed Madam Bones her clipboard and rolled up the sleeves of her robes to reveal her arms up to her shoulders. They were unblemished. But Sirius still waved his wand over them, ending all glamour spells and/or potions. They remained unchanged.
"Right, not a marked Death Eater then," Sirius nodded before ordering, "Give me your Witch's Oath that you have never and will never follow the Dark Lord known as Lord Voldemort or harm Harry James Potter. Now."
The witch, who was brunette with blue eyes, nodded, drawing her wand and saying, "I, Elizabeth Moon, do solemnly swear upon my magic and my life that I have never been and will never be a follower of any Dark Lord, especially he who is known as Lord Voldemort. I swear upon my magic and life that I shall never harm or attempt to harm one Harry James Potter willingly. If I have or do forsake this Oath then may my magic leave me and my life end. Nor shall I ever willingly betray his confidences or those of his family. So mote it be."
She glowed bright gold for a moment as the Oath settled over her before using a non-verbal spell to make water burst from her wand. She still had her magic and she was still alive.
Sirius relaxed, sighing in relief, and saying, "I apologize, Miss Moon, we already trusted someone who we thought was a friend and now James and Lily are dead."
Elizabeth Moon smiled understandingly, "I've been briefed on the Pettigrew case so I completely understand and would demand the same if I was in your shoes." She took her paperwork from the other witch, "Now, if we may get down to business so we can get out of your hair."
Madam Bones conjured three chairs and they took their seats, Elizabeth positioning a self-inking dictation quill to the parchment forms.
"I'm just going to ask you some questions," she explained, "please be as truthful as possible without forsaking any oaths or vows you might be under."
Sirius nodded.
"But first I need you to confirm that information I have is correct. Harry James Potter was born on July thirty-first nineteen eighty to Lily and James Potter."
"Yeah." Sirius agreed.
"He was orphaned on Halloween, October thirty-first, nineteen eighty-one."
"Yes."
"At the age of fifteen months."
"Yes."
"He was adopted by one The Doctor and one Rose Tyler, non-humans."
"Yes."
"Harry James Potter is no longer Human either, this transformation was done to ensure his survival after the attack by one Lord Voldemort on Halloween, October thirty-first nineteen eighty one."
"Correct."
"You are Harry James Potter's Godfather and Magical Guardian-Advocate."
"Right."
Elizabeth smiled, "Great. Now, onto my questions. Do you feel you've made the correct decision in not fighting for custody?"
"Of course." Sirius smiled, "He has a wonderful, exciting life with them and he'll grow up to be someone amazing. Why would I make him throw that away? James would resurrect himself just to kick my arse, and Lily would do the same."
"If you had to describe The Doctor how would you do so?"
Sirius frowned, brows furrowed as he thought, "He is like fire and ice. He's like the night, and the storm in the heart of the sun. He's ancient and forever. He burns at the center of time and he can see the turn of the universe. And he's wonderful." He finally spoke, looking up at his audience, "He says he's not a good man, good men don't need the rules he applies to himself, but he is a good friend, a good father to Harry. When the apocalypse comes, I pray that he remains on our side. He's a god that wants to be human."
Elizabeth's eyebrow had arched up but she couldn't deny the fact that the man was sincere, "How would you describe Rose Tyler?"
"She's the same," he explained, "The Doctor's equal in every way. She's the fire that tempers his ice and she's the ice that smothers his fire. She is the daylight and the life-giving Sun. She's young and yet unaging. She stands outside of time and watches the sands run out. She's wonderful. She believes more strongly than anyone else that he's a good man and tries to convince him. She is compassionate and kind, a loving mother to Harry, and yet dangerous, his greatest defender. She was a human that became a goddess but she never forgets her roots; she keeps the Doctor grounded, her foot is always upon the earth as she holds him tight. "
The questions continued on in this vein until Elizabeth Moon was satisfied, "Well, Mister Black, I daresay that Mister Potter is in good hands. I have no further questions; I'll just file my report and let you be on your way." The trio stood up, saying farewells and shaking hands all around before Sirius let the barrier drop and Madam Bones and Miss Moon left.
Sirius began moving towards Harry and Rose when the Doctor groaned and dug into his pocket, pulling out a wallet and flipping it open.
The man sighed, before standing up and bending over to kiss Rose on the lips.
"Sirius," the Doctor said tiredly, "Can I trust them with you? Something big's come up and I can't risk them again."
The wizard nodded, "Of course, I'll take them."
"Thank you." And the Doctor left, stepping into the TARDIS and disappearing to…whatever was going on that needed his attention.
With another sigh, everyone began packing. Remus, the strongest of them due to his lycanthropy, scooped Rose up, her head on his shoulder as he carried her in a fireman's carry. Sirius had Harry, Alice had Neville, and Narcissa carried Draco.
As if well drilled, each adult spun on their heel and disappeared with a whip sound to Black Manor.
Black Manor was a small, at least compared to Pureblood standards, country estate. A grand stone mansion overlook several acres of land which hosted three greenhouses, a stable, a dozen good sized paddocks, and a large farm section.
The whole complex was managed by hundreds of house-elves, each dressed in child-sized black robes that sported the crest of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black. Mixed in with the Black elves were a couple dozen elves that sported the crest of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter until Harry was old enough to take his inheritance.
"Blinky!" Sirius called and an ancient looking House-elf popped before him.
"Yes Master PaddyFoot?" the elf bowed, waiting for instruction.
"Prepare a room, the nice one possible, and tell Missy I need to talk to her."
"Yes Sir." The elf disappeared with a pop only to be replaced by another, even more ancient elf.
"Master called for Missy?" the elf groveled.
"Missy, look at me," the elf did as ordered, "This here is Rose, she's in a healing coma. I need you to look after her; don't wake her up, don't do anything that may disturb the process; watch her, monitor her vitals, and come get me as soon as she wakes up. I want an elf with her around the clock, she's never alone. If something goes wrong you don't come get me, get a Healer first then fetch me. If she starts to glow come get me. Understand me?"
"Yes sir, Mister PaddyFoot." The elf disappeared, taking Rose with her.
Sirius turned the his friends, "Alice, Frank, Narcissa; I need you to stay tonight, the wards should hold against anything but still, just in case…"
"Of course."