A/N: I'm overwhelmed by the outpouring of support for this story. I'm the COO of a major software firm and I was called out of the country on emergency business about fourteen weeks ago. I returned just before Christmas. I had intended to stop writing Mage Rising, but I can't do that now, can I? Onward…
Chapter 10: Alliance
Utter silence had descended over the lobby of Gringotts. The unnamed goblin raised his head from the small bow and met Harry's eyes.
"Sir," Harry said, bowing with only his head in return. He noticed that Neville and Daphne had prostrated more fully, bending at the waist. "Please, call me Harry. I may be a Lord by title, but I know nothing of my family history and I don't think I've earned the right."
The goblin's lips quirked into the approximation of a smile, showing the pointed tips of some of his fangs. It wasn't meant to be menacing, but something about this goblin screamed to Harry he was a formidable force. Crossing this tall goblin would surely mean a swift death. Harry had felt nothing like this from Voldemort, whom he was more and more seeing as nothing more than an extremely powerful bully.
"As you wish, Harry," the goblin responded. "I am Ragnok Longblade, director of what wizards call Gringotts Britain and High King of the Goblins the world over."
Harry and everyone else in his group quickly realized the magnitude of the situation. He quickly fell to one knee and inclined his head toward the goblin ruler standing in front of him. His friends followed his lead and soon enough all seven of them were kneeling before the High King.
Ragnok said nothing for several seconds, considering the teenagers from his now-higher vantage point. They were all similarly attired, had remained respectful throughout their time in Gringotts so far, and had responded quickly to the knowledge of his royal standing. He rarely felt the need to stand on ceremony with humans, since many did not observe the proper customs, but he did derive a small measure of satisfaction from their prostration. He was, after all, the king of an entire race. Finally, he spoke:
"I appreciate the gesture, I truly do," he said. "But please, stand and come forth; as I stated we do have much to discuss."
Harry stood and the rest followed. Ragnok motioned for them to follow him through the door behind the teller station, through which he swiftly walked. Harry nodded toward the shocked Head Teller as he passed; it seemed as if the goblin could not believe what he had just witnessed.
Ragnok walked fluidly and with purpose, and the eight magical beings nearly jogged down a long curving hallway, which was gently sloping down as well. Not a word was said during the three or four minute trek to Ragnok's office; the king's door was identified simply with 'Ragnok.'
They passed into an antechamber, which appeared to be a sort of reception area. There was a young goblin behind a desk here that bowed toward Ragnok and stared at the humans as they passed. Ragnok moved through an interior door into what Harry could only assume was his personal office, which was unremarkable for the king of an entire race. In fact, it was so purely functional as to be almost utilitarian. Harry liked Ragnok more and more.
Seven chairs were arranged at the front of the desk in a semicircle, and Ragnok pointed them in that direction. They took their seats as Ragnok stalked around his desk and sat in his chair; Harry was in the middle seat; Hermione and Luna were to his left and right; Ginny and Ron were to their left and right; and Neville and Daphne were to their left and right.
Harry fully lowered his hood and gestured for his friends to do the same. Ragnok's eyes went from face to face as they were fully revealed.
"I believe introductions are in order?" the King asked.
"Neville Longbottom, scion to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Longbottom."
"Ginevra Weasley, daughter to the Noble House of Weasley."
"Hermione Granger, Muggleborn."
"Luna Lovegood, daughter and heir apparent to the Noble House of Lovegood."
"Ronald Weasley, son to the Noble House of Weasley."
"Daphne Greengrass, daughter and heir apparent to the Most Noble House of Greengrass."
"And you all already know who I am," Ragnok returned. "I would ask that while we are seated here in my office that the usual customs and etiquette be ignored, for if we used the titles and pomp associated with our names and stations, this conversation would stretch to twice longer than needed. However, in public discourse, we must again revert to the old ways."
Everyone nodded at the King's simple request, unsure why he was being so up front about this. To Harry, it mattered little in the grand scheme of things.
Ragnok met Harry's eyes. "Now, Harry, I'm aware that you're here to accept your inheritance."
Harry nodded. "That's right."
"And you know of its magnitude?" the King asked.
Harry's eyes slid to Hermione's for a moment. "Not exactly, no. But it's been hinted at."
"Financially, the Potter fortune is one of the largest in the world, magical or Muggle. Its actual value is of little consequence—just know that it would be impossible to make any significant dent in it, due to your investments, interest on loans, and rent you collect from various properties. Politically, though dormant now for more than a decade, the Lord Potter commands a powerful position in the Wizarding world, as well as the global financial system. In terms of equity, you have a good number of priceless properties spread throughout most of the world, as well as countless priceless artifacts in your vault here and at your homes. The Potter Grimoire dates back to the Roman empire; the last person to add to it was your mother, Lily Potter. You can find it in the vault here.
"As one of the founding Noble and Ancient Houses, you yourself control fourteen seats in the Wizengamot and another thirty-one by proxy. With the Houses Longbottom and Greengrass alone, you would be halfway toward the majority needed to control the assembly. Suffice it to say that if you stood up during a session of the Wizengamot, everyone would listen, whether they wanted to or not."
Harry absorbed this information as best as he could. He had no concept of money or riches, so that mattered little to him, but the sudden connection to his family was overwhelming. Down in the Potter vault was a spell book his mother has last modified…
"Forgive me, Ragnok, but why didn't Gringotts contact me about this? From what Neville said earlier, I could have claimed my inheritance at any time due to there being no other Potter heir."
"It's not our place, Harry," Ragnok replied, somewhat more softly than he had been speaking. "We do not meddle in the affairs of wizards—we only keep their accounts and their belongings. Anything more has led to terrible conflict in the past, something we would like to avoid in the future, no matter what the public opinion of us may be."
Ragnok paused here, though it was clear he wanted to say more. Harry's fist had involuntarily clenched as another person revealed to him why the knowledge had been kept from him all of his life. He couldn't lash out at this goblin—or any goblin, really—if it was ingrained in their culture (and a seeming royal decree) to sit on the knowledge.
"I will say, however, that the Potter family has always been closer to my race than most other humans, and the fact that we could not act upon this was truly unfortunate. I do not wish to deflect the blame, but it should have been up to your guardians, mentors, or teachers to push you in this direction."
"Dumbledore," Harry muttered under his breath. Yet another thing the Headmaster would have to explain. Hermione's hand found his and there was another period of silence.
"So what now?" Harry eventually asked. "How do I officially become Lord Potter? And once I do, what's the next step?" He was looking at his friends as he asked the last question.
"You need to accept the Potter Head of House ring," Daphne said, to which Ragnok nodded. "After you assume control of the estate, you may want to have a look in your vault and visit any interesting properties to see their state. You could also formally announce in the next Wizengamot session that you have taken your place as Lord Potter."
"You would have access to a Lord's suite at Hogwarts, as well," Neville added. "You wouldn't have to stay in the Gryffindor dorm anymore."
"I don't think I'd want to move out just because I claimed my family's title," Harry replied, sending his friends a reassuring glance. It mattered little to Luna or Daphne, of course, but he could tell Hermione at least was reassured.
"There is another matter," Ragnok said, rather more delicately than he'd stated anything else during this meeting. Seven pairs of eyes swung toward the Goblin King.
"As I said before, the Potter family has been much closer to my race than just about any other Wizarding line. That relationship has naturally waxed and waned throughout the history of your family, but it was never stronger than when your grandfather and father frequented our halls."
"I never knew," Harry said, quietly.
"Nor could you be expected to," Ragnok returned.
"Sir, if I may?" Daphne asked. The King nodded at her. "You mean to say you and the Potters had some kind of alliance?"
"It was never stated so literally, but yes."
"But…isn't that illegal?" Neville questioned. There was no accusation in his voice—only curiosity.
Ragnok sat back in his chair and turned his small, black eyes toward the ceiling. In that moment, Harry had an epiphany the magnitude of which struck him like a physical force. Ragnok may have been the leader of an entire race, but he was also an individual—a thinking, living, sentient being with his own personality, problems, responsibilities, and daily life that made him uniquely him. Harry did not feel so far removed from this King when he realized they were all trying to get by in this world, with a little help from their friends.
"It is illegal for wizards and goblins to form any kind of official alliance, yes," Ragnok eventually said, looking back at the assembled witches and wizards. "That is one of the reasons why there was never anything on paper with the Potter family. It was a tacit understanding that we were working toward the same mutual goals, which included prosperity for each and a little more tolerance in general in our world.
"The Potters and a select few other families, such as the Longbottoms, have always been more willing to treat us as equals—business partners, friends, allies—than anyone else. Over the centuries, we cultivated this into a silent partnership."
A pause, then: "Which, if made official, would be illegal, yes."
Harry then made a split-second decision which would affect all of their futures. He leaned forward and stared intently at Ragnok. His friends and the goblin in question felt his magic bleed into the air around them.
"I would like to claim my inheritance," he said.
"Very well," Ragnok replied, reaching into the top drawer of his desk and pulling out an ornately gilded jewelry box. "This is the Potter crest," Ragnok informed him, as he slid the box across his desk. It consisted of a sword and axe crossed over the image of a hippogriff, among other miscellaneous things. Harry opened the box and found a simple platinum ring engraved with glowing runes. He put it on his right ring finger. The runes glowed more brightly for a few seconds before going almost completely dark; the ring resized to fit him perfectly and suddenly his mind was flooded with knowledge of his family that he could have never known. It was all rather obscure and arcane without any context, so he pushed it to the back of his thoughts for now.
"Lord Potter," Ragnok said, inclining his head toward Harry. Daphne slid from her seat and kneeled on the floor in front of Harry.
"Lord Potter," she echoed. One by one, his other friends did the same, with the exception of Neville, who bowed only his head like Ragnok in a gesture of respect, rather than any kind of subservience.
"Rise, all of you," Harry stated, slightly uncomfortable from the display, even though he knew it was necessary for what he was about to do. Ragnok was watching Harry carefully, having noticed the change in his stature and the ambient magic in the air.
"Ragnok just spoke of an alliance, and I believe you came with us today, Daphne, to become a vassal of the House of Potter on behalf of the Greengrass family," Harry started, receiving a nod from the blond. He was now standing and facing his friends, with Ragnok in his line of vision too.
"I propose that we—all of us—come together today to stand against Voldemort and the tyranny his ideology represents. We are only as strong as we are together, and we need to be strong to defeat him in the end. There is no future for magical Britain if Voldemort is allowed to win the coming conflict. I for one have no plans to let him do that, but in order for that to be true, we must decide here and now to become the alliance everyone glimpsed in the Department of Mysteries."
Harry took a deep breath; all eyes were riveted on him. "I, Lord Potter, do hereby swear to protect Houses Greengrass, Lovegood, Weasley, and Granger with the full might and magic of House Potter. I, Lord Potter, do hereby swear to stand side-by-side with House Longbottom with the full might and magic of House Potter. And finally, I, Lord Potter," Harry continued, turning toward Ragnok, "do hereby swear to work with King Ragnok and the Goblin nation toward a resolution to this conflict favorable to all. On my magic do I swear these things, and on my magic is the penalty for failure. So mote it be."
Harry's magic rushed from him, enveloping the other living beings in the room, filling them with such strength and will that, for one second, they knew what it felt like to be Harry Potter. His fierce determination and selflessness were expressed more eloquently by his magic touching them than any words could ever convey, and they knew they would charge the bloody gates of Hell to stand by him.
"I accept," Daphne said, voice somewhat awed by the almost-physical presence of Harry's magic in the room. "House Greengrass will stand as vassal to House Potter and swears allegiance in the fight against Voldemort."
Ron accepted on behalf of House Weasley, followed by Luna and Hermione accepting for their families. Neville swore that House Longbottom would stand by House Potter as allies.
The attention in the room shifted to Ragnok, who was looking at Harry quite oddly. There was something of a Goblin smirk on his face, though his eyes were slightly puzzled and possibly shone with a hint of admiration.
"You understand, Lord Potter, that a formal alliance with the Goblin nation is illegal and would be considered sedition by your government?"
"I do, King Ragnok."
"And you have no problem with this?"
"My government is losing and will lose this war without me—and now without all of you," Harry said, motioning toward his friends. "What they think matters little at this point, especially since you and your people want the same things we do: tolerance, equality, and an end to the pointless and ceaseless conflict over blood superiority."
Ragnok nodded. He stood, came around the desk, and drew his long sword. Daphne and Neville gasped as he placed the tip of it into the carpet and fell to one knee in front of them all; rather than bowing his head, however, he met each of their eyes.
"Then on this day, I, Ragnok Longblade, High King of the Goblin Nation, do hereby swear to stand by Lord Potter and his allies in this allegiance newly formed; our mutual goal is the destruction of one Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters, as well as the reformation of magical society in Britain to be more tolerable to all sentient magical species, regardless of their blood purity."
Harry noted the slight change in Ragnok's wording, but did not comment. It was a very slight change and would only lead to more positive things, rather than less. A pulse of magic erupted from Ragnok's sword, engulfing them all as Harry's had, and suddenly they all were intimately aware of the fact that they were bound to each other by a magical allegiance. It was empowering and a little frightening, to know such drastic steps had been taken in such a short time.
Ragnok stood, sheathing his sword. The clang as it hit home in the scabbard echoed around the office.
Before anyone could say anything else, three quick knocks came on Ragnok's door; without waiting for the King to say anything, a goblin dressed in battle armor strode in and stood at attention in the doorway.
"Speak," Ragnok commanded.
"My King," the goblin said, "Death Eaters and the one known as Voldemort attack Diagon Alley as we speak."
Harry and his friends visibly reacted to this news. The goblin spoke over their consternation.
"They are currently on the opposite end from Gringotts, but they are making their way here, laying waste to everything in their path. We will need your authorization to lock down the Unbreakable Wards."
Harry and Ragnok locked eyes. Some kind of understanding passed between them.
Harry held out his arms to his friends, saying, "Come on, grab on, we have to see if we can help," he said, his voice as full of command as Ragnok's had been with his subordinate. No one questioned it. Everyone put a hand on Harry and he transported them all to the marble steps in front of Gringotts.
Before their vision even cleared, the smell hit their noses. It was a wretched combination of burning flesh, burning wood, and smoky char.
The far half of the Alley was an inferno; the conflagration must have been aided by magical fire, because it burned higher, brighter, and hotter than anything Harry or the rest of them had ever seen. And, striding down the middle of the Alley, between the flames licking hungrily at their sides, was a large force of Death Eaters, with a smiling Voldemort at their head. His smile was one of triumph and sadism.
It was a cataclysm. The people in those shops had no chance; panicked citizens were picked off easily. And the fire was advancing steadily toward Gringotts.
"Merlin," Hermione breathed, though Harry could hear the rage underneath her soft tone that he felt coursing through his veins. He looked to his friends and, while fear was plainly evident on their faces, so was determination.
"Dobby," Harry called. The little elf popped into existence in front of them shortly thereafter. He was facing Harry and therefore did not see the destruction behind him. Harry took him by the shoulders and turned him to face the Alley.
"I need you to go to Hogwarts and inform Dumbledore of this. Bring him and any other staff you can back here."
"Dobby will do this!" he exclaimed, and popped away after one soul-stirring glance at the seven teenagers lined up on the steps of the bank.
"Lord Potter," a voice called from behind them. He turned to see Ragnok and an entire retinue of elite goblin soldiers standing at the ready by him.
"The wards around the bank will be locked down in a matter of seconds. If you leave their bounds, you will not be able to come back inside until this crisis is over. You should consider staying here for your safety and the safety of your friends."
Harry's face hardened. "I could simply take us all away from here if it were a matter of escape. But we're not running from this fight, King Ragnok, and I'm surprised you would even suggest such a thing after what just happened in your office."
"You must pick your battles wisely, Lord Potter," Ragnok said, enigmatically.
"You must also choose to make a stand," Neville said, voice as hard as Harry's was. The others were nodding along with Harry and Neville.
Ragnok's eyes slid to the firestorm raging through the Alley and the gleeful Death Eaters in its midst. His clawed hand fidgeted restlessly with the sword at his side.
Harry wasn't going to wait anymore. Enough damage had been caused. He spun toward the Alley once again and pulled his wand. His friends echoed his actions.
With one final look at each other, they broke into a run down the marble stairs toward the chaos that awaited them.
Dumbledore had just deposited a bedraggled, disheveled, and unconscious Umbridge onto a bed in the Hospital Wing when Dobby appeared before him. He would know the former Malfoy house elf anywhere, especially considering Dobby's close connection to Harry.
The elf was extremely distraught. His eyes were larger than tennis balls and he was pulling his floppy ears down past his chin.
"Headmaster!" he squeaked. "Diagon Alley is being attacked by the bad wizards and You Know Who!"
Dumbledore was instantly alert, forgetting entirely about Umbridge and his impending interrogation of her.
"Tell me more," he said.
"Harry and his friends are being at the goblin bank," Dobby continued. "Dobby thinks they is going to fight the bad men!"
"Fawkes!" Dumbledore called, straightening up from the crouch he had entered to speak with Dobby. As the firebird flamed into existence above Dumbledore's head, he looked back at the panicky elf.
"Dobby, rally the other faculty to my office, please," he commanded. He grabbed Fawkes's tail and was translocated to his office in a rush of fire and a breath a wind.
Almost immediately, Dobby began popping faculty members into the office, in varying states of surprise, anger, undress and other things. They all quickly saw the hard lines of the Headmaster's face and attended to their own situation as best as they could, watching as the strange house elf forcefully Apparated more and more adults into the office. Soon, every magical adult currently at the castle was standing before Dumbledore; Fawkes was resting on his shoulder and trilled a conciliatory note to briefly calm the group.
"Voldemort is attacking Diagon Alley with a force of Death Eaters as we speak. I do not know the extent of the damage, but I do know that Harry and his close friends were at Gringotts conducting some business when the attack started. I know I don't have to mention they are all probably already fighting to hold Voldemort back."
Snape grumbled something disparaging about Harry under his breath, but everyone ignored him. Many looked frightened, but they all knew what they were being called upon to do. Dumbledore was never prouder of his teachers than that moment, when they all, as one, silently decided to stand against the Death Eaters with him.
"Let us go and join them, Albus," Minerva said, stepping forward. Her eyes were cold.
Dumbledore nodded. He instructed everyone to hold onto each other and told Fawkes to take them away. A brief firestorm followed and the Headmaster's office was suddenly empty.
The scraping of metal upon metal behind them stopped their forward progress. They were nearly at the bottom of the stairs, where the Unbreakable Ward was and beyond which they would not be able to return. They turned and saw that Ragnok and his guards had drawn their weapons and were descending the stairs toward them. More armed goblins were streaming from the bank in an unending line.
"Once we cross the threshold, it is us and them," Ragnok said, directing his voice toward the seven humans. "I have ordered the warriors of my race to fight with us, but we have little magic to ourselves. We will be mainly fighting hand to hand. We need you to get us close enough to them to do damage with our weapons," the King continued, pulling up beside Harry and stopping. The screaming of burning magical citizens and the crackling of the inferno in the Alley beyond them faded into the background for a long moment as the humans and goblins considered each other. And even still, more goblins spilled from the bank, falling into perfectly regimented lines behind Ragnok and his elite guard.
Harry and Ragnok were eye level due to the King's position on a higher stair. Something crackled in the air around them as the silence continued for an indelible second.
"Stay close behind us," Harry commanded, turning toward the oncoming Death Eaters once again. The space between the bank and their advancing ranks was a no-man's land, filled with dead bodies and shimmering, overheated air.
"Hermione, Neville, take the right and left flank and defend our sides with your most powerful shields. Daphne, Ron, Ginny, Luna—I want two of you on either side of me, using your most powerful offensive spells. Hold nothing back; shoot directly into the Death Eaters, at Voldemort even. We want them on the defensive."
"What will you be doing?" Hermione asked, taking up her position on their right side.
"Fortifying our defenses and attacks so we can close ranks with them. Once we're close enough, the goblins can break through our line and mow them down. We won't be able to protect them when they're inside the Death Eaters' group, but by that time it won't matter. None of them are equipped for hand to hand combat."
As Harry spoke, the air around him began to warp and tremble; tiny arcs of magical energy started to rip through the space near him. When he turned his eyes to them one last time, they were glowing with power. The marble stair beneath his feet started to crack.
"We shall be right behind you, Lord Potter."
"And we'll pave the way, King Ragnok," Harry replied.
The seven humans dropped the last few stairs to the cobblestones of the Alley and took off at a sprint, heading straight toward the Death Eaters and Voldemort.