Chapter Thirty-Four
Lights full of magic burned in several out of the way houses, manors and estates across Britain. There was surely something going on, or that would have been the thought if anyone would have been able to see those lights. Anyone flying over in a Muggle airliner wouldn't have noticed anything out of the ordinary, and none did. To them, it was more of the same dark countryside and something to ignore as they tried to get some shut-eye on the overnight flights.
Within those houses, manors, and estates however, final preparations had been made for something to happen and in one specific estate in Little Hangleton, a figure was relaxing with a glass of some exquisite red wine. As he got older, he had come to appreciate it more than when he was a young man.
Maybe after I get done with this overarching task, I'll find myself a vineyard, Lord Voldemort thought. Not now, however. Tonight, tomorrow and the next day had been set aside for rest before he struck. Maybe more. He had been practically everywhere under the cover of darkness, placing the chosen Death Eaters into the Voldemort-crafted spell stasis that turned them into drones. Each location had twenty such drones, their magic bound to his and their senses reporting to him. The effort he had put into the magical work had drained him nearly to exhaustion, but each drone was absorbing ambient magic from the air. Slowly, but steadily absorbing.
When the lights in each location extinguished, then that would be the notification each location manager was waiting for. That meant that the magic intended to power them had been absorbed completely into the drones and they would be ready for use.
No one was in the room, so Voldemort indulged in a yawn and went to bed. His time was coming but right now he was more wiped out than he'd ever been. He had left strict orders not to disturb him and looked forward to a night's sleep.
-===(| - |)===-
Billy stopped for a moment and wiped his forehead. When Arthur and Fionn had shown up with a list of things to do, he knew that there had been a reason he'd been given paid leave from his job and suspected that it would be Mrs. Newton's little boy Billy that would have to do all the work. To his surprise, it hadn't been. Fionn was wiping his forehead just as much and Arthur and one of his sons was doing it too.
The younger Weasley had surprised him when he came in, but seeing the stocky young man that stood a bit shorter than his father but broader in the shoulder intimidated him a bit. It could have been the shaggy red hair, the burn scars, or the dragonhide he wore, but Charlie Weasley looked like he meant business. Arthur had cited his closemouthed nature, which was good enough for Fionn and they got to work. Whatever job the Irishman had gotten from the capricious manifestation of Magic had apparently had him expecting the younger Weasley.
They had spent the day clearing out the interior of the house of what little remained and rearranging walls and rooms with magic. Arthur had wanted the house to serve as a bunker. While this normally would have meant sinking it underground, Charlie had come up with a rather sly method. He had brought along a Romanian warding scheme that mimicked the concealment properties of a Fidelius charm and allowed for very thick walls of hard-packed earth to cover the house. Those keyed into the scheme could bypass the walls and use the house like any normal house but ignore the dirt. Granted, they had to use magical tunnels that allowed access but intruders would find themselves shunted deep into the walls of dirt and unable to get out.
This was something used often with dragons, apparently, and Billy was thankful he didn't have to deal with them. Simple iguanas gave him the creeps. They made him feel like he was being judged and found wanting, so he didn't want to consider about what a dragon would think.
"All right there, Billy? You look a bit peaky."
The voice of the dragonologist was a bit rough and made Billy jump. Looking at the other man, he could see that there wasn't even a trace of sweat on his brow. That didn't help with his self-esteem at all, not one bit.
"I'm fine, er, Charlie, just lost in thought for a moment."
The rough hand clapped him on the shoulder.
"Good thing my Mum's not around or you wouldn't have a chance to be lost in thought. Count your blessings."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, you'd be doing any of a hundred other things. Considering my brothers, she had to be inventive at times."
From across the room, Billy could hear Arthur snort in suppressed laughter and wondered what that was all about. Charlie went on.
"I'm told that Magic has a special job for you that resulted in this place. Need anything in particular? I might know a few people to help you out. It's amazing the things you can find out on a dragon reserve and its surroundings."
Billy thought about that.
"You know, there's a few things I was thinking about when I first found this place…"
Charlie listened carefully as Billy reeled off a fairly complete list of things that he thought would improve this getaway, and nodded. That shouldn't be any problem, but it might cause the younger man a bit of heartburn when he found out what Romania and a few other places could send him. One woman in particular lived for things like this and she had been feeling a bit bored lately without something or someone to distract her. This could be just the thing.
The dragonologist turned and winked to his father, who shook his head. Fred and George had learned that from somewhere, Arthur knew and resigned himself to seeing what Weasley chaos Charlie was going to drop on poor Billy. He heard a hidden feminine chuckle from one of the far corners of the house at that thought and sighed again. The sound of splashing water in a Muggle house that he was sure didn't have water service hooked up didn't make him feel better.
Despite the probable grief that was most likely coming Billy's way, at least this bolthole stood ready if it was ever needed. Having seen the Potter luck first-hand Arthur knew it was going to be needed, just not when. He looked over at Fionn, who'd caught the byplay between father and son and was grinning to himself as he thought about poor Billy's continuing trials.
It was funny, but he wasn't going tell the lad that.
-===(| - |)===-
Augusta Longbottom had reached a decision. A couple of waiting owls perched in the corner of the room on a sturdy stand and watched their mistress. There was a thick letter sealed into a heavy-duty envelope on the blotter in front of her. It was almost a package. She had spent all day yesterday in her office and written a long, long letter – well, more like a series of letters to both James and Lily with a shorter letter to Harry – detailing the things that occurred since that night from the Wizengamot side. She listed the foiled attempts to find Harry over the years, the problems with Frank and Alice, and all the questions that she had not been able to get answers for.
She had apologized to the Potters for those failures.
Neville had triggered some thoughts in her because of his letter to his grandmother, and she realized that while he might not do things the same way that she would or the way his parents would have, that didn't mean that they had no less validity. Her grandson was a Longbottom, and the things she had been hearing about him that she was sure he didn't know she knew led her to be proud in private, as she was now. Augusta could relax her stern persona here with no one around, except for a few close friends who knew her well enough anyway.
Still, this was something that needed doing, and she had hitched up her metaphorical trousers and did the first part. Once this missive got into James Potter's hands and she got a reply, then they could do more.
She looked forward to meeting this Luna girl, however. Minerva had been quite complimentary on her, if a bit nonplussed at the girl's demeanor at times. The girl made the hair in her bun itch sometimes, as Minerva put it. The Longbottom matriarch knew Xenophilius Lovegood however and the realization that the Luna in Neville's letter had been his daughter was both a relief and a concern. Relief in that she'd also known Pandora and knew that she was an extraordinary witch and concern in that Xeno had lost it a bit after she was killed. Having a young daughter to raise and not be… well, 'all there' from grief was the concerning part. There was no telling how much of Pandora and how much of Xeno was in Luna, but Neville seemed to have things well in hand in any event.
Augusta rolled her eyes at that thought. Neville had better be careful what things he had well in hand if he knew what was good for him.
From everything she could gather, young Luna was sharp as a tack and from the grades Neville was pulling down now Minerva seemed to think she was the reason for his improvement. She still needed some information about her aside from what Minnie could tell her, so she did the only thing she could think of to be sneaky about it.
Augusta had written a letter to Lily in the soon to be delivered stack, as she was Neville's godmother, and asked her for her evaluation. It was a bit underhanded but Neville didn't need to know that and besides, the woman was right there in Hogwarts.
There was a moment's thought about which owl to use when there was a taptaptap at the window. Augusta's eyebrow rose when she opened the window and saw the regal snowy white owl step in.
"You're young Harry's owl, aren't you? Hedwig, was it?"
The owl fluffed her feathers and looked back at the witch. There was no letters attached to her legs, Augusta saw.
"What brings you here, if you don't have anything to deliver?"
There was a look at the waiting letter and another gaze that made Augusta feel stupid. That was such a novel experience, from an owl of all things, that she blushed.
"You knew that I wanted to send out a letter? How?"
The owl jumped to the desk and Hedwig's talon tapped directly on the name 'Potter' written there. An owlish glance at the pair in the corner, and Augusta's eyebrow rose when she saw them hunch down. When Hedwig turned back to her and looked her in the eyes again, she could feel the power of the familiar bond the Snowy carried. It didn't take much more thought to see why the other owls had reacted the way they did.
Maybe 'regal' was the right way to describe her, she thought as she tied the letter to Hedwig's leg. Augusta watched as the Snowy set off with powerful wing beats and quickly faded into the sky. Hedwig seemed to be able to fly somewhat faster than ordinary owls and maybe the power Augusta sensed in that familiar bond was why. It would explain some other things, too.
Shaking her head as she closed the window, she considered that maybe there was quite a bit going on that she needed to stay on top of that she hadn't considered. That letter winging its way off was a good start.
Now to see what happens, she thought. It wouldn't be boring, Augusta was sure. With James Potter back, it surely wouldn't be. Thankfully, Lily was also back to keep him in line.
-===(| - |)===-
"Well, of course we want to hear the rest!"
James' voice was a bit waspish, but the portrait ignored that. Admiral Sir Gordon was sure that if he came back to life and in a place that wasn't the same as he left it, he'd feel a bit snappish for a while too. With that in mind, the painted admiral launched into his briefing.
"Now we know that there is evil magic being stirred up. Three guess who's been doing it and the first two and a half don't count."
Around the room, eyes narrowed.
"So Voldemort is up to his old tricks but this time Mother Magic is sick of it. She wants Thomas to have his short pants yanked down to his ankles and be spanked hard. If he gets put down and never gets up again, she would be happy with that, too. She's got a thing or two to say to him and I don't fancy being there to witness it."
Harry snorted at the thought of Voldemort crying like a misbehaving toddler while he was being spanked. The painting went on.
"To help all of you in that, there's been some buried magical information dug up and brought to light and a few 'tools' to help you with this task," the painting's eyes flickered to the Mace and Beak being carried by the youngest of the group. Hermione's eyebrow went up.
"Is that why we had to go through that frankly uncomfortable process? I still feel like I've got bugs crawling under my skin. It's very uncomfortable and in more than one way," she informed the painting archly.
"Yes, Mrs. Potter, it is. For what it's worth, your muscles are still rearranging themselves minutely so at least go for a long walk today. Drink plenty of water while you're at it. Take hot soaks afterward. That goes for both of you." Both agreed. "Now, all of you need two more to add to your number for a total of ten."
Lily asked, "Why ten?"
Admiral Sir Gordon turned to her to answer. He took on a faint air of the lecturer he used to be for generations of midshipmen on their training cruises.
"About six hundred and twenty or so years ago, a previous Lord Potter sat down and drew up a contingency plan to deal with a threat. That threat never materialized even though back then the situation he was in meant it very well could have. That Lord Potter, Eustace Potter, and his Lady Potter, Jill, recognized that some threats don't go away until made to go away and he put his thoughts and planning down in minute detail. With very little changes, the threat that he guarded against in those plans are eerily close to what Voldemort presents today. That information was stored away at Port Sanctum in a chest spelled to remain hidden until needed."
To several of the gathering, the name meant electrified them. Harry and Hermione looked around, confused at the reaction that the older Potters in particular had shown.
"Port Sanctum? What is that? It sounds like a pirate's church."
James and the painting shared a chuckle.
"Lady Hermione, it could be described at that. Eustace Potter was a real dragon sometimes and was one of several Lords Potter to be seafarers. He wasn't a pirate, quite, but he was very unforgiving when someone ran afoul of him. It didn't take much, considering the turmoil he had to live in back then. He died and was buried at sea – where Port Sanctum is now."
Hermione looked at James, her silent gaze demanding that he spill.
"I've only been to Port Sanctum twice, once when I was a boy and once just after I married Lily. That was during our honeymoon when we decided to look into some of a few of the more hidden Potter properties. It's an estate with a house, but the whole thing is underwater. We didn't stay long."
"Pull the other one, James. It's got bells on," she grumbled.
"No, Hermione, he's telling you the truth and not pranking you for once," Remus spoke up. When she looked at him with disbelief in her face he finished a bit lamely, "this time, anyway. I've been there, too. It's a bit creepy. I still say that he sent Sirius and me by ourselves to that place to pick up something he needed because he didn't really want to go back."
Lily shivered.
"Remus, really. 'A bit creepy,' he says. It's very creepy. I don't know why and I don't want to even speculate."
The painting cleared his throat.
"Moving on. All of you need to go there. Magic has triggered the chest to reveal itself in James' presence since he's been there before and allow itself to be moved, but Harry needs to be there as well for it to open."
"What? Why?" James asked.
"Because of your previous status of being dead, plus the fact that you 'died' in combat, and the fact that an ongoing ritual Voldemort had been undertaking at the time – all that has combined to muddy the waters where your status as Lord Potter is concerned. Without the presence of both you and the fruit of your loins, the chest will magically refuse any attempts to be opened or even moved. It sits in the Lord's Office, waiting."
Harry tried to hold back the blush at the 'fruit of your loins' bit, but was only partly successful. Thankfully, no one else noticed.
"So we go, both of us, and open up this chest?"
"Yes, but first you need to present yourselves to the Goblins to settle the Lord Potter issue, then go to the Ministry and settle things there. As the Goblins have primacy over birthright magic, they handle that and the Ministry can't get their grubby mitts on Potter possessions."
Lily was listening but thinking about something previously said.
"Admiral Sir Gordon, why ten people? If this is magic, shouldn't seven or thirteen be used?"
There was a moment of silence from the painting before a heavy sigh issued forth.
"From here, it veers into what some call theology, some call philosophy, and some call rubbish, but short answer – there are forms of Magic that make it a three-fold manifestation in some situations. We don't have the time and I don't have the inclination to argue what those three-fold forms are but just say that there needs to be three positions in this group's quest that need to be open for Magic to fill. This will allow all involved to be Magic's Officers in the fight against Darkness."
"Oh...kay…" Dan said. Memories of sitting in church with sermons exhorting the Holy Trinity was coming to mind. "Will we see those… People? Forms? Beings? I don't even know what to call them. And there's another thing – Emma and I aren't magical."
"Let's go with 'people' and be done with it for now," Emma suggested.
"Works for me."
"Major, Mrs. Granger, you may not be magical but the fact that you have magic in your family along with the love you have for your daughter," here the painting looked at Harry and back again, "and I daresay for her young man as well counts just as well."
"I can't and won't deny any of that, but about that rank…"
"More about that will be explained later, should you visit the Goblins with the Potters."
Harry was feeling lost, but that was nothing new. What bothered him was that Hermione was beside him looking just as confused. It was probably going to be a long discussion tonight when they got out of here, wherever they went. He spoke up after a moment.
"So who do we add?"
There was silence for a few minutes, but it was broken by Dan speaking up a little hesitantly.
"What about that little blonde girl I was talking to in the Great Hall? She seemed to know things that the rest of us didn't, and considering what we're about to go into it might be nice to know things we don't. How does she do it?"
The magicals looked at each other and the painting grinned to himself.
"I assume you're referring to Miss Lovegood? Slim blonde girl, greyish eyes, looks right through you sometimes?"
Admiral Sir Gordon seemed quite amused. Dan looked at him.
"I think that's her name. Princess?" He looked at his daughter, who nodded. "Then yes. That's her."
"She has a habit of confusing many of the stick-in-the-mud portraits around here who think more of themselves than they should. It's quite amusing to watch and I admit some times I'm guilty of winding the other portraits up just so I can watch her have at it. If it wasn't for the blonde hair, I'd swear I was looking at one of my great-granddaughters."
He muttered something else. Harry leaned toward the painting.
"I'm sorry, Admiral. What was that?"
"I was thinking to myself that it wasn't just the stick-in-the-mud portraits around here, but no matter. She would be a good choice."
Lily snorted to herself.
"Then the last person would be easy. Where Luna goes, so goes Neville and vice-versa."
"Only if they agree to it," Admiral Sir Gordon cautioned. The others agreed. "Young Mister Longbottom, I assume? I can see that. But in any event, I would suggest visiting the Goblins and the Ministry first."
"The Goblins we can do this evening – maybe. The Ministry will have to be tomorrow." Lily didn't sound impressed. "Someone must have had the bright idea of cutting hours available to the public. It was like there was a pandemic or something out there and they don't want to catch it."
"This is the Ministry, Lils, they do things their own way," James sighed.
Lily tossed her head but didn't say anything else. Wisely, no one else did either. Harry got to his feet and headed to the door. Everyone looked at him and he looked back.
"Well? We have things to do, right? It didn't sound to me like the Admiral had anything else."
Everyone looked at the painting who waved them on.
"The lad has the right idea. Things to do, places to go. Also, I have a game of Basset with a few of the other portraits. Suckers."
Hermione looked at Harry who shrugged. He didn't want to know.
"Not that I'm deliberately trying to channel Ron here, but if we get done with this in enough time, we'll be back for dinner."
No one could argue with that, so everyone got up and followed him out.
-===(| - |)===-
It seemed that the Goblins were aware of what they needed to do long before they arrived. James and Harry had barely stepped up to the teller's counter when their little group was motioned off to the side. Harry saw a Goblin that looked a bit familiar.
"Excuse me, but aren't you Griphook?"
The Goblin shook his head no.
"No, Griphook is my uncle but I'm told that we look a lot alike. I am Catchspike. I have been sent here to escort you to the Potter Accounts Manager."
James looked up, interest in his face.
"Is it still Ragesnarl?"
Catchspike shook his head sadly.
"No, he was killed a decade and a half ago by someone claiming he was messing with his wife. Funny that there happened to be several 'someones' making that claim at the same time."
James frowned.
"That doesn't sound like Ragesnarl at all. He was one of the calmest and most respectful Goblins I ever met." The emphasis on 'calm' implied that the deceased Goblin had ice instead of blood.
"True, very true, but he utterly destroyed the group that came after him before succumbing. It was later discovered that it was an assassination. Both physically and character. His son took over after disposing of the ringleaders. It was a glorious battle."
"Cholerfist? The last I remember seeing him, he was just starting out. He's done well?"
The Goblin nodded.
"The same. He swore to safeguard the Potter fortune from everyone who meant harm – and he meant everyone. He has since killed several Goblins who let themselves get greedy and several wizards have found themselves in dire straits because of it."
"Then I have some thanks to offer him."
There was no further conversation as they approached a set of sturdy doors. They went through, after Catchspike knocked three times on the door and bowed them in. At the workmanlike desk, James saw a Goblin a bit bigger than usual that was missing part of his ear and one of his fingers. A white scar meandered from the corner of his mouth and connected his right nostril, left eye and what was left of the eyebrow above that. Lily saw him, too but didn't comment other than a raised eyebrow.
The Goblin looked up. The smile on his face was welcoming – well, as welcoming as a Goblin could have managed. There was a rather luxurious quill in his hand, if the spread of the feather was anything to go by.
"Jimmy, me boy! I heard ye was back. What took ye so long to get here?"
Harry looked at Hermione, who looked back at him. They had a sudden mental image of the Goblin behind the desk dressed all in green. James ignored the reaction and stepped up to the desk.
"Oh, several things. It's not like there's a checklist of things to tick off when leaving the grave."
The Goblin hooted in laughter.
"Are ye surrre, lad?" Harry was sure that he heard some rolled R's in that question and wondered where this Goblin was from.
"Fairly sure, but that's beside the point now. I'm pleased to see that you are in the role but more sorry than I can say to find out that Ragesnarl has left us. He was someone to trust, whether with blade or with quill."
The Goblin nodded.
"Aye, there was some questions about that happening that linger still, but no questions can be asked of the dead – well, usually. There are ways but best not to get into that, eh?" A shaggy eyebrow lifted speculatively at the elder Potters.
James ignored that and pulled Harry closer to the desk.
"Collie," Harry almost choked at the diminutive of the Goblin's name, but noticed the gleam in both sets of eyes on either side of the desk, "I want to present my son Harry James Potter, before we get into any other business."
Harry was already wondering about how Goblin names came to be, but seeing the gleam in the eyes of the being behind the desk made him really wonder now. Cholerfist stood up with all dignity and bowed in Harry's direction, who returned it.
"Greetings, young Potter. I met you once before along with my father, a few days after your birth, and I am pleased beyond measure to see you standing here today. I did not then get to see you or your family after that unpleasantness with the Fiend you call Voldemort, but I am well pleased to see you now. There has been discrepancies in the Potter Accounts and no way to contact you. Are you well?"
Harry wasn't sure how to answer that.
"Cholerfist, I am as well as expected however with everything that happens to me, I dread answering that question too loud. Things tend to happen if I do."
Several sets of eyes landed on him and he mentally winced. He was sure one set of eyes was the exact same color of his own. Harry was reminded of his evasive attempts to answer some of the questions Lily had asked him and decided that he was in for it again.
"So I've been coming to understand. Who might this bonnie lass be standing beside you, hmmm?"
Harry smiled as he turned to Hermione and grasped her hand.
"This standing here is the reason I come through those 'things' and the light of my life. This is Hermione Jean Granger, or as a recent magical ritual that returned to me my parents would have, Hermione Jean Potter."
The Goblin clapped his hands together and jumped up to bow to her. She returned the bow, a little confused.
"Wonderful! Simply wonderful. The Potter Accounts have been needing strengthening for some time now, thanks to that feckin' gobshite Voldemort. There's been a lot of discussion in the past between me and me Da about that… nevermind. We've business to do and first is a Lordship to settle, after a side mention is done."
James raised his eyebrows.
"You know what we're here for already?"
"Normally, no, but it seems that Magic is very insistent. Take me feelings about that previously mentioned feckin' gobshite, multiply by a hundred and you might come close to what the Nation thinks as a whole. Take that and multiply by a thousand and it's nowhere near what Mother Magic thinks." The Goblin glanced at Lily and smirked, which was disquieting for some of his visitors. "Never piss off a redhead, and every time Mother Magic has shown up here she's had hair every bit as red as the lovely Lady here, if not more so. Blue eyes more often than not, though."
Lily couldn't help but smile with delight. James gave the Goblin a fish-eyed look, who snorted into his fist and mimed marking a tally into the air. Harry glanced at the three, but no explanations were forthcoming. He got the feeling that this was something that was ongoing and didn't really want the details. Cholerfist looked at the others. Goblin amusement was clear on his face.
"Before we do that though, who else have we here?"
James motioned for Sirius and Remus to step up, only for the Goblin to stare at Sirius wide-eyed. He clasped his hands together in the most theatrical manner anyone had ever seen. The quill landed on the desk and skittered to the edge, where James caught it before it could fall.
"My stars above. We've got a fleabag in Gringotts again! And Sirius Black, too! We've two fleabags!" He patted his pockets as he spoke. "What did I do with those flea collars again? Mr. Lupin, would you like yours in gold or hot pink?"
"Gold, Collie," Remus said quickly before Sirius could say anything.
"Good choice and fitting, too!"
The pair looked at each other, nonplussed. The sound of James trying not to choke with suppressed laughter didn't help. Laughter from a Goblin was a bit worrisome, but they could see that Cholerfist was trying to limit it to chuckles into his fist again. He wasn't too successful.
"Who's next?"
"Harry, you should do this introduction, son."
Harry squinted at the Goblin, who winked. He sighed. Of course his dad would have a prankster for an account manager. It figured. He looked at Dan, who was grinning and Emma, who was looking at the ceiling. He sighed again and motioned for Dan and Emma to approach.
"Cholerfist…" he started, only to be interrupted.
"Call me Collie in private. If you can deal with the ragging like that, that's good enough for me."
"Okay, Collie then. Collie, this is the pair that graced the world with the light of my light, raised the quiet harbor to my storm, and stood as the examples that produced the warrior lioness you see here that has stood beside me in every battle against Voldemort since we started Hogwarts."
Cholerfist stood and slammed his fist to his chest as he bellowed out a greeting to warriors as he faced Hermione first. Outside the room, they faintly heard someone else do the same thing out in the hall. Hermione managed not to flinch at the sudden sound but blushed a bit. The Goblin turned to Dan and Emma and did the same thing, with an echo in the hall. Emma clung to Dan, surprised. Dan returned the salute as best he could with Emma limpeted to one side.
"Major Granger, we know of your record in battle. Mundane or Magical, it does not matter. We greet a fellow warrior with pride and recognize your wife and your daughter as fellow warriors."
Emma spoke before Dan could.
"But I'm not ex-military. How can I be considered a warrior, or Hermione?"
"Every warrior needs support and you are that for Major Granger, without question, without fail. We consider that being just as much as warrior – if not as explicitly so and without the benefits and risks. Mrs. Potter has indeed fought again Voldemort at her husband's side several times, for love's sake and for… well, we note things that others wouldn't think we do. Gringotts is well aware of what drives her and notes with approval and a lot of betting the sheer viciousness she can impart to her magic work. It would take a brave Goblin, or stupid, to cross her we're pretty sure."
Hermione appearing to be a cross between smug and embarrassed as the Goblin went on. He transferred his attention from her father to her.
"Your Professor Flitwick has made quite an amount of Galleons on you too, as well."
Now it was a bit miffed, until Cholerfist innocently said, "And collected from your Professor McGonagall several times, too."
Now it was distinctly embarrassed. The Marauders were the ones trying to stifle their laughter, this time but said nothing.
"Now that introductions have been made, I need to inform Major Granger of the workings behind the reactivation of his commission – and congratulations on your promotion, by the way – and of the presence of a couple of Muggleborn 'armory sergeants,' I believe they are called. They have a few things you might be interested in."
"Things?"
"Yes, things that go 'boom.'"
"Oh. Those things."
"Quite so. I would be interested in a demonstration when you get re-qualified on those things, if you wouldn't mind. I suspect others as well, Major."
"Of course."
Dan's voice was a little distracted as he was mentally dusting off some memories about items in the SAS's inventory and how to use them. Those items were considerably different than dental drills, probes and suction devices. His attention went back to Cholerfist as the Goblin resumed.
"As the prophecy around Voldemort," here he grimaced, "specifies the power he knows not, we're stacking the deck – so to speak. Two of your number are armed with weapons of yore that are still deadly, and it would be the height of silliness not to acknowledge your strengths and training. Providing you with weapons and the commission that allows you to carry while in Britain makes all the sense in the world to us. As such, we used some of our lesser-known contacts to see to it that your commission was reactivated. As a side benefit, it increases your retirement pay as well. This can be helpful in the future."
"I can see that, well, all of that. Some of it is going to take some time to wrap my head around."
The Goblin gave him an understanding look.
"Plus, Major, with some inventive runework, there's no need to reload, stop to allow a barrel to cool down or be changed, or do any weapons cleaning after a range day."
Dan's eyebrows had lifted as this.
"Sold!"
"Thought ye'd see it that way. Now, on to the next thing."
The Goblin put a small box that was familiar to James and Lily.
"The Lordship ring box?"
"Aye, Jimmy. We need to see if it will still accept you. There's two ways about it: either you will be Lord Potter again, or Magic will have determined that it passed to Harry here upon your murder long ago."
It was said with a straight face since the Goblin was all business at this point, but James had a grimace twisting his face as he thought about the novelty of hearing about one's own killing. He looked at Cholerfist, who nodded and offered the box to him. James took it and paused for a moment, locking eyes with Harry before taking the ring out of the box's velvet-lined interior. He slid it on his forefinger, where it had rested before in times past and felt the warmth of the ring testing him.
It welcomed him as a Potter, but did not automatically size itself to his finger as expected. Eyebrows raised all around, with Sirius' more or less shaggy eyebrows raising the highest and the narrowed eyes that indicated he was thinking hard.
James offered the ring to Harry with a nod.
"Go ahead, son. If it accepts you, you'll be Lord Potter. It'll make sense, too where Magic is concerned. Ancient and Most Noble Families like ours always need a Head and I don't know why you weren't already."
Lily's eyes told him that there would be some more questions asked of certain people when they got out of here and if he got in her way he was sleeping on the couch for a month.
Harry took the ring, which was still warm in his hand. It was warmer than he thought a ring should be and wondered if that was because of the Family Magics imbued into it. Without another thought, he slid the ring onto his forefinger just as James had done.
There was a singing sound from the air around them that reminded most of them of phoenix song somewhat and the ring resized itself to Harry's finger. They listened to it, but heard that the underlying tone was more martial than the pure tonals of the phoenix they all knew. The song reminded them of war, but what war they didn't know. Harry could swear he heard hammers and anvils deep in the depths of the Goblin bank, accompanied by rough melodies.
Cholerfist stood and bowed again, this time to Harry.
"Lord Potter. I greet ye, in the name of all that Potters have stood for, for Magic's sake since the time of the first Potter. May your battles be decisive, may your enemies be divided, and may your victories be defenseless against."
Harry didn't know what exactly to say so he decided to wing it, as usual.
"I thank you, Cholerfist, in the name of Potter, those that came before me and those that will come after me. I fight for those who cannot, for those who are weak, for those who are in need."
Speculative eyes shifted to Hermione at the first part of his declaration that Harry didn't see, although he wondered why the Goblin was looking so damned smug. He found out when Cholerfist turned to Hermione with an odd gesture that seemed full of power. For the life of himself, Harry couldn't figure out why the Potter ring seemed to radiate a sense of… self-satisfaction? Amusement? Relish? Whatever it was, he was distracted by the shorter being's words to the brunette.
"I greet ye, Lady Potter, in the name of all that Potters have stood for, for Magic's sake since the time of the first Potter – and with the acclamation of one warrior to another. May your family be strong, be plenty, be beacons against the darkness."
Hermione grabbed Harry's hand as she returned the bow and repeated what Harry said.
"I thank you, Cholerfist, in the name of Potter, those that came before me and those that will come after me. I will see that my family is all of those things, and more!"
The flash from her eyes was mirrored by the flash in his and everyone gasped at them as the flash continued to cover the pair. When the light faded away, everyone but the young couple and Cholerfist was blinking.
"I don't remember it doing that when I took on the mantle of Lord Potter," James mused.
"Most likely due to circumstances. The Potter ring is aware of Lord Potter's destiny and his Lady's, too." The Goblin seemed a bit introspective and still a bit smug.
"Oh, come on, Collie. You're up to something. We're all family here. Spill it."
The Potter Accounts Manager glanced at Harry, who was still dealing with the revelation of suddenly being Lord Potter but had the presence of mind to nod in agreement after Hermione elbowed him in the ribs. Cholerfist was amused, but took that as agreement.
"Indeed you all are. Lord and Lady Potter, Lord Emeritus and Lady Emerita Potter, Misters Black and Lupin, Sir and Madam Granger – all of you are linked together, either by blood or by heart and definitely buttressed by Magic and her task. Those tasks have been set for each of you, and if not revealed to you by now, I cannot say or even guess what they are or when they will be revealed. I can do anything I can to help you, however, and I swear to do just that."
Hermione was squinting at the Goblin.
"Okay, first, 'Emeritus and Emerita?' And just what was that gesture you made toward me?"
They thought they had reached the saturation point for watching a grinning Goblin, but apparently not. Teeth flashed as he turned to her. No one missed him tugging a stack of books between himself and Hermione before he answered. Eyebrows raised, and Hermione's expression got stony.
"As for the titles, I'm winging it since no one has returned from the dead to reclaim titles and apparently Magic doesn't allow it. I had to say something."
"And that gesture?"
"Well… as the Lady Potter, you're the key to building a large family to rebuild House Potter both physically and magically. That was a goblin spell to enhance fertility and ensure strength and health both to you and your children. Whenever you're ready to do so, that is," the Goblin finished in a rush, the accent disappearing in the nervousness he was trying not to show. "Magic required it of me, you see."
Hermione looked ready to need a new Accounts Manager and all the industrial strength cleaning and disposal that went along with that need. Cholerfist went on with it, seeing that Lily and Emma both seemed to be looking a bit upset as well.
"It's an arcane spell that I didn't know about before the ring was tried and Lord Potter's assumption of his House was the trigger for the spell appearing in my mind. The prerequisites are two for this spell: the recipient must be unknowing and it must be done within minutes of becoming the Lady of the Family. So, you see…"
"You had to do it, when Harry became Lord Potter." She was quiet for a moment. "Harry wants a family of his own, since the Dursleys didn't give him one. I'll do it for him."
Everyone sighed in relief, especially Cholerfist, but eyes went wide when the stack of books moved itself to the side and Hermione hadn't moved. She leaned in to look the Goblin in the eye.
"If this magic makes me have a Weasley-sized family or bigger, I'll see if Potter Account Managers can baby-sit, change nappies, try to get them to sleep, and teach them the things they need to know at least three times a week – by themselves. More often if they're twins or triplets. If not, I'll change it so they can. Try me. The strength of House Potter is your strength, too. Our profits are your profits. Our losses are your losses." She speared his neck with a hot glance when she mentioned the word losses. "We are as strong together as we are weak divided. We will be strong again – or I will know why. Understand me?"
"Shit. She scares me as much as Lily does, and she's not even looking at me," Sirius mumbled to Remus, who shushed him quickly.
"Aye, my Lady."
Harry had to give the Goblin credit. If Hermione looked at him like that, his insides were quivering while he wondered what he did wrong. Cholerfist's answer was steady, but the image was ruined by the sight of James snickering. He shut up quickly when Hermione glanced at him.
"Um, excuse me, but can I ask a question?"
Everyone looked at Sirius. Remus groaned.
"Shut up, Moony. I know better than to refer to the scary new Lady Potter."
The scary new Lady Potter in question glared at him and he hurried up with what he was about to say.
"James stopped being Lord Potter when he… died," everyone could see that the memories of finding James and Lily dead that Halloween night still had a grip on Sirius as his breath hitched, and hands landed on his shoulders to comfort him. "And before I passed through the Veil that night, I was Lord Black. I don't know if my will was ever opened…"
"It wasn't, Padfoot," Harry answered. "I was never told that you even had one and didn't know if you could have done one since at the time you were still on the run as an escaped convict."
"I had one. There was a time or two that I slipped away from Grimmauld Place and updated the one I made when you were born."
Cholerfist perked up.
"Then that explains a lot. The Black Vaults and Accounts locked up by themselves when you passed over and the Ministry sealed your will to begin trying to claim your House assets. No one could explain why and trying to get members of House Black that wasn't Death Eaters wasn't easy. Madam Andromeda Tonks couldn't help us, being disowned from House Black."
Various angered looks shot around the office at this information. Sirius, surprisingly, didn't look too bothered.
"They wouldn't have gotten anywhere. The Ministry tried something similar in the early 1800's. They locked up the will of a Lord Black and tried to steal everything. The incoming Lord Black at the time set up a magical assets barrier, linked to Black blood. Only a Lord Black with Black blood can lower the barrier, but no one has."
"I wouldn't," Harry agreed, thinking about his godfather had said. Sirius looked at him.
"Good. Because as my godson, you were my heir in all things, including being Lord Black."
Harry goggled at him. Hermione was quicker to answer.
"So, you think Harry can become Lord Black the same way he's now Lord Potter? Since you died and have come back to life through magical means, Magic has determined that the Lordship has to pass from you?"
"Right, plus with every Azkaban did to me, I doubt I could have heirs of the blood now if you take my meaning. I don't know if my return would have fixed that or not."
Silence met this remark, then Cholerfist broke it by rubbing his hands together. They rasped in the quiet, drawing attention to him.
"Well, then. It looks like there's another ring to try!"
His happy mood was interrupted by Hermione's glower straight at him.
"No, Lady Potter, if your husband becomes Lord Black too, no more fertility spells… unless you want one?" he asked, somewhat hopefully.
Remus slapped his hand over Sirius' mouth before he could get himself into more trouble. In the corner, Dan was muttering, "Two families?" Emma was rubbing his back, but her slightly concerned grin at Hermione showed her sympathy and said more that he didn't catch. James looked at Lily and wisely decided now wasn't the time.
"And will he be needing another wife for the Black Line?" Hermione's face was pinched.
"Um… well… that is…" the Goblin stuttered, rubbing the front of his neck where Hermione had earlier shot a look at it. "Not necessarily."
"Good."
Harry took her hand and rubbed it to calm her down.
"Let's do what needs to be done to check, Collie."
The Goblin nodded a bit quickly and dropped a note into a slot on his desk. A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door and a wizened Goblin came in. His eyes went wide at the sight of Sirius Black sitting in front of the desk. Cholerfist got up and met him at the door. There was a quick conversation in the Goblins' native language but some exclamations and declarations seemed universal, based on the volume.
Harry resolved to find a Goblin-to-English dictionary somewhere and see if he was right. He was pretty sure he heard the Goblin versions of 'what the fuck is going on,' 'you're shitting me,' and 'the hell you say!'
He looked at the others. They must have been thinking the same thing.
Finally, the ancient Goblin agreed and left the office. Cholerfist came over to them.
"He'll be back in a moment. That was Fishbreath, the Black Accounts Manager. Those accounts have been having the same problems recently as the Potter Accounts and we suspect for the same reasons."
"Fishbreath?"
"Yes. His mother made the mistake of giving him a fish as a baby. Something called surströmming? Frankly, it's disgusting to me but he loves the stuff. Yuck."
Sirius was looking a bit green at some memory that the Goblin must have reminded him of. No one wanted to ask him for specifics, although James looked a bit curious. Thankfully for all concerned, the old goblin returned with a solid black ring box in his withered hands.
Sirius took the box and tried the ring, but it had the same reaction to him as the Potter ring had to James. He shrugged and offered it to Harry. The older Goblin sneered at Harry, who fixed him with a stare and slid the ring on without looking.
There was a tolling sound like a giant bell. The ring flashed on his finger and shrunk to fit as the Potter ring had before it.
Both Goblins bowed to him.
"Welcome, Lord Black."
The old goblin's voice was creaky and it took him longer to recover from the bow than it did the younger Cholerfist. He eyed Hermione speculatively, who stared at him in distaste.
"Starting the family line again? I see a bond between you and this Mudblood. Could have chosen something with better breeding. This female is unacceptable for family purposes but good for rutting in between breeding times with better stock."
There was another gong and Hermione's eyes flashed. Harry's hand slashed down where he'd been looking at the Black ring and the sudden sharp gleam was easily seen. Everyone was on their feet at the remarks after a moment of shock but there wasn't time to react more before the old Goblin's eyes went flat and his head slid off his body. Into the sudden silence, Cholerfist spoke very carefully as the door opened and several armed Goblins rushed in.
"Stand down, guards." He waved them down, and after a moment of looking at the fury radiating off Hermione, they did so slowly but retained tight grips on their weapons. "Lady Black. There is nothing more to be done. Fishbreath overstepped his bounds as Account Manager and you punished him before Lord Black could react. I will inform the Director of the circumstances. It will be his decision, but I foresee no action save for that of appointing a new Account Manager. That will be done forthwith."
There was nothing said as the body was dragged out of the office and given a few kicks. Everyone sat down again, although Harry and Hermione were both understandably very tense with anger. Cholerfist waved his hand and drinks appeared before everyone, and they remained quiet as they partook. It took a good ten minutes for the tension to start draining.
Finally, Harry sighed.
"Okay, Collie. What's next?"
"Ministry. Family matters have to be registered there, as well. Goblins have bureaucrats as well, but at least ours are smarter."
James shared a look with Lily, remembering a few Ministry idiots and hoping they had died off while the Potters were gone. Harry nodded, feeling the two rings offer a few suggestions to him through an odd kind of link. Most agreed, but there was some mild dissension until he figured out how to tell them to pipe down for now. He'd have to discuss it with Hermione later, since she looked like she was getting something too but neither could figure out how.
"We can do that. I think we're done here, then."
The Goblin sat up.
"Hold on a moment first. I almost forgot."
He dug around in the bottom drawer of his desk for a moment while the others looked at each other.
What now? The look Harry gave Hermione was clear, although the one James gave Lily expressed something similar along with a shrug that matched the new Lady Potter's.
"Ah-hah! I knew I still had them in here!"
The Goblin's cry of delight preceded his action of sitting straight in the luxurious chair and tossing small boxes to Sirius and Remus. Sirius was still stewing over how the now-former Black Account Manager had treated Hermione and fumbled the box he had while Remus opened his.
There was a short golden chain with thick links – almost a choker – in the box. Remus looked up, a denial starting to form on his lips when the Goblin waved it off.
"Nope, that's yours. It was supposed to go to you as a gift from Charlus long ago, but circumstances and that damn Voldemort got in the way."
By now, Sirius had managed to get his box open to reveal a somewhat similar chain. It was a pinkish hued metal.
"Rose gold with some copper mixed in. That's yours, too. Both have protective charms in them. Charlus thought highly of both of you, from the notes that I found from my Da's files. You're not to take them off for any reason once you put them on. They will maintain through your transformations, either animagus or were."
They stared at him.
"What? I said I had collars!"