Chapter 7
Sian and Colin watched as young harry free from the restraints of the saddle stretched his legs and ran to join the ongoing game that the other children were playing in the field alongside the road.
"He seems mature for his age." Colin commented to his sister. Their eyes focused solely on the diminished figure of the young five year old child in light grey trainee clothing.
"That he is, I haven't been able to get much out of him, but what I have ensures that if his former guardians live within the bounds of valdemar the Guard will be wanting to have a very thorough conversation with them." Sian replied after a moments consideration. "He has a very strong mind gift and potentially an even stronger Mage-gift."
The siblings stopped for a moment along the side of the road. Sian took in the site of the town. Just outside there were brightly colored tents and wooden booths set up in neat and orderly rows. There were the sounds of the games and music followed by the scent of roasting and frying foods filling the air.
"A bit larger than last time I was here."
"It's been a good year."
They turned back towards harry and the other children in the field watching as he joined in a game of what on earth would have been known as Red rover or in britain by its more aggressive counterpart British bulldogs here the name of the game was more along the lines of Forcing the city gates.
"It's good to see him play."
"I agree. I wouldn't force anyone to spend weeks alone with just you for company on a journey." Colin replied teasing. "Come lets get something for dinner, I'm sure you're dying to know what's been going on around here. Your young charge will be fine with the older more responsible children they'll bring everyone in before it gets dark out."
"If he mentions staves, I'm just teaching him how to hold the staff and stances I wouldn't normally but it helps with the mind exercises that he is doing to build shields. There is also the damage from the hands of those beasts that were his previous guardians, strangest thing that, he's healing much faster than usual. I think he grew some over the past week on the road."
"Surely you aren't teaching him staves! He can't be more than five! Maybe six..."
"Five," Sian replied. "He is probably the most mature five year old in all of Valdemar. And it's not actual sparring, just holds and stances. Its a form of meditation the new weapon master at the collegium started teaching. Easier for younger students because the body is active instead of trying to sit completely still."
Goblin bankers love revenge
Arwen pulled his brown cloak on and pushing his dark brown hair out of his face left the small rented room for the alley behind the Leaky Cauldron. Diagon Alley may have been impressive to new and aspiring young first generation magic users, however, it was nothing of the sort for him. Having seen the alley when the first shop opened it's doors after construction many years ago, the alley seemed a bit worn out to him.
Certainly it had it's charm. That picturesque quality of a medieval shopping center without the smells of refuse that would have normally been in the drain running down the center of the street. And the people were certainly clean compared to the medieval counterpart. For the most part though, the buildings for all the loving care over the years and the repair from the blood war the decade previous shone in his mage-sight with obvious signs of magical repair.
Perhaps the only building that held any sign of being fully cleansed of the taint from the blood war was the goblins bank Gringotts, which the goblins had cleansed by their own blood magics and sacrifices. That the wizards believed these warriors beneath them was their own particular brand of insanity. Even more foolish that the ministry for magic had rewritten all the history books to claim the wizards had won not just the last war but all of them was setting future generations up for failure.
The goblins were warriors and the extent of their underground domain would never be understood by the arrogant wizards. The only thing that was more pleasing to the goblins than bloodshed was profit. Their only rival the Dwarves but they had won economic dominance in britain over the dwarven nation centuries previous through shrewd business and a very short war.
Arwen limped his way past the guards at the door and into the bank. The guards bowed with much more reverence than normal. It was early enough that the bank was empty of but a few customers all of which were the type that paid no mind to him not wanting to draw attention to their own business. Wizards are quite lazy creatures he mused to himself having noted the lack of activity early in the mornings.
He spoke quietly with the teller in perfect goblin. "I have a matter relating to a change of guardianship for the underage heir of an account. I trust the goblin nation would welcome a chance to put an end to what is possibly the largest misappropriation and extortion of a client's funds in the history of Gringotts. Don't worry I understand there was mostly nothing you could legally do to counter the actions of the wizard responsible."
The goblin's grin at this point was quite feral. By perfect chance he was one of the few goblins at the bank that had been part of the discussion on the funds in question that were being removed from the potter accounts. Something that must be understood at this juncture about goblin language that most wizards would probably never pick up on is that the word for wizard in goblin language is very closely related to the goblin equivalent to snape's favorite insult 'Dunderhead.' The few wizards who do manage to learn enough goblin to actually discover this distinction usually end up laughing right along with the goblins before transferring their wealth to another more sane magical community like one of the ones in the Americas or the Australian one. Which is part of the reason why the last official friend of the goblin nation as far as the british and european community is concerned was Godric Gryffindor. It's quite the insult within goblin society to call another goblin a Wizard.
"Come Wanderer," The teller motioned for Arwen to follow him into one of the many meeting rooms warded for privacy in the bank. The goblin showed no surprise at the identity of the man before him a man of unique distinction in goblin culture as an ancient warrior cursed to wander the worlds until some unknown condition freed him. None knew why he was cursed nor the conditions that must be met to free him. His crimes whatever they where having been covered by time.
Arwen took out duplicates of the legal documents that had been signed by Harry's relatives along with a few other documents and forms setting them neatly stacked on the table in the room. He arranged everything for proper effect and turned to the door as the account manager for the potter accounts entered the room.
"When is the last time you performed the ritual for magical cleansing?" He immediately questioned the goblin who entered the room. Noticing a slight web of compulsion and control charms laced delicately around the goblin. The goblin looked at him with abject horror before rushing out the door.
A short time later a second goblin entered the room his clothing of a finer cut than the previous goblin. "Gringotts is in your debt for bringing those spells to our attention. I am Gorefang, Senior Account Manager. Dumbledore is a fool if he believes the goblins will be inclined to support him. This latest breach shall not go unpunished."
To simply state that goblins hate thieves is far too simplistic. Goblins hold a deep and abiding loathing for wizards that attempt to steal from them, or attempt to obtain what is under their protection through underhanded means. That is if the person doing so has not already given the goblins a generous cut in the profit.
The one thing Dumbledore hadn't done in his arrogance of the superiority of wizards was discuss with the leader of the goblins their generous cut for ignoring his misdeeds. He had in fact spectacularly failed on that front having only bribed a minor goblin account manager and one who had no real authority in the bank, and had only been able to do so through the use of an almost glaringly conspicuous amount of compulsion and control charms.
No self respecting goblin, sane or not, would have even dreamed of going along with any scheme to defraud the potter family out of respect for their ancestor Godric Gryffindor. One of the few wizarding families to ever treat the goblins with anything approaching a proper healthy respect for a warrior race.
"The young Mr. Potter is currently firmly out of the reach of one Albus Dumbledore. His relatives having shown the cowardice that is disturbingly common among humans have signed his wellbeing over to myself. I need gringotts to gather the records relating to the account activity for the past five years and prepare to gather anything that has been taken and return it. Your standard fees are expected deduct them from the amount you recover from the Dumbledore accounts."
Gorefang grinned sadistic, Arwen had said the magic words for the goblins. They understood taking down an enemy, and contrary to some beliefs they understood family and most importantly for bankers they understood money. Dumbledore would not know what hit him.
"Also I would like you to begin a diverse investment of the available funds in his trust. I understand the family vaults and family investments cannot be touched until Mr. Potter reaches his majority. Look to technology companies in the mundane markets. Just don't invest everything in one or two companies."
"If there are any journals from his parents in his vaults I believe Mister Potter would be most appreciative if they were to find their way into his hands at some point in the future."
"Agreed. Next up is the removal of Albus from the Potter proxy. I would prefer leaving him in the dark as long as possible but if he decides to abuse the proxy, then the Dowager Longbottom if she is agreeable should receive the position. Additionally I need to know if there are any marriage contracts on file for Mr. Potter as he will be unavailable and probably unwilling to fulfill them."
"There is one filed by his former supposed guardian Mr. Dumbledore. It was kept as evidence but didn't take hold due to the fact that Mr. Potter's true guardian at the time was Sirius Black. It was between House Potter and House Weasley for one Ginevra Weasley. It has been nullified rather thoroughly. The laws and charter of House Potter actually forbid marriage contracts without the full knowledge and consent of both involved parties."
Arwen and the Goblin shared momentary laugh at this before continuing. "Now I understand that the old wizard has sealed the Potter will. Does that cover both joint and individual wills? or just the joint Potter will?"
Gorefang looked shocked for a moment then called a messenger into the room requesting the information. "While we are waiting. If one or either individual wills are available and capable of being activated I would like the one that puts Mister Potter under the guardianship of House Longbottom to be made active. Lord and Lady Longbottom if you have not heard from other sources already are both quickly recovering."
Growing unease for manipulative old farts.
Far away in a castle hidden from mundane eyes by powerful wards, the aged wizard Dumbledore sat absently in his favorite chair. He was musing over the plans for the upcoming year when the fireplace interrupted his thoughts.
"Albus!" The voice of Arabella Figg called from the fireplace.
"Something is dreadfully wrong, my cats haven't seen the boy in weeks. His relatives are still home, so they can't be on vacation."
Dumbledore sat up straight, thoroughly awake and alarmed, surely they can't have killed the boy, He glanced to the whirring monitors attached to the wards around number four. They all still read perfectly normal. Though the blood based ward was stronger than usual. Which was odd considering it had been steadily weakening over the past three years.
"I'm sure it's all fine Arabella, he's probably grounded for some reason. Young children are prone to get into trouble now and again." He reassured her calmly confident that his various instruments would alert him to any difficulties. He briefly reconsidered his decisions before making a weak excuse to himself about the boy needing the protection of the blood wards, an idea he had taken from Lily's sacrifice.
"You better hope so Albus." Arabella deflated, she would get nowhere with him like this. Though the feeling of unease didn't leave her. Albus insisted the boy was safest at his aunt's home, and much to her growing apprehension over the past two years nothing would dissuade him.
Albus would go to bed that night, confident his plans were all on schedule and everything properly in motion though a small portion of his mind had a niggling doubt forming with a growing unease. Harry needed to look up to him, needed to see him as someone who rescued him from the mundane world. Yes he assured himself everything will work out exactly according to plan.
In which we check in with the Longbottoms.
Frank Longbottom and his lovely wife Alice were growing rather tired of pretending to be recovering. Sure they needed the therapies to rebuild their muscle strength. After over four years of being in little more than a vegetative state their muscles had quite atrophied.
The first protection they had enacted involved a switching spell on any potions proscribed by the corrupt healer secretly funded by Mr. Malfoy to monitor and prevent just their sort of recovery. It involved an amulet that assessed the nature of the potions being given them. Recognized potions for building strength and providing clarity where allowed through. Any other potion would be switched with a muggle soft drink of similar colour.
Beyond that they had put their auror training to use taking shifts sleeping and watching the other. The last attempt a few days previous had Frank demanding that the healer be taken off their case.
Despite the difficulties of dealing with healers frantic to explain their miraculous recovery, Frank and Alice found themselves looking forward to the day ahead of them. Frank's Mother Augusta would be bringing their son Neville to see them today. It was hard for them to know they had missed so much of their sons life. They hoped he would be able to forgive them.
Frank leaned over to his wife and gently roused her from her quiet contemplation. "Alice," He pointed to the door, where their son fidgeted under the watchful gaze of his mother.
"Neville! Mum! Dad!" both exclaimed holding their arms out. Neville was rooted to the spot for the first time in years seeing both his parents fully aware and sane he didn't know what he would do. Tears ran down his cheeks as he stumbled forward into his mother's arms and then his father's.
Oh hey! readers! um... so, between neville and luna.. There is a poll up at my profile or there should be...
