Dobby's Deceit

by La Morraine

What if Dobby bound himself to Harry without Harry knowing about it? How would that influence the story? [Harry/Hermione]

2. Chapter 2

I'll say it again: no beta has read this, and probably never will. Take it or leave it, I don't care. EAD rules all the way, baby. I park this here because my blog post hit its limit.

Also, there will be lots of bashing ... eventually. I'll probably bash characters you like. If you can't deal with it, hit the back button.

Have fun!

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Dobby's Deceit

Part 2

The next days passed astonishingly quickly in Harry's mind. When he wasn't tending to Aunt Petunia's garden or Aunt Marge's guest room, he was out in the park taking walks and reading his books in the shade. Dobby dutifully supplied him with meals and snacks, going as far as outright rejecting Aunt Petunia's fare and telling Harry to just let his uncle and cousin have it.

The second goblin visit came and passed without much fanfare. Healer Bonepick made notes on Harry's progress, advised him to drink more of Dobby's lemonade and offered him a beginner's book on the goblins' art of potion making. It wasn't a lab, but it seemed like a promising overture. He also brought a pensieve and showed Harry how to watch memories and extracted one of his own to demonstrate, but left without doing more than that because of an emergency.

Meanwhile, Hedwig delivered Hermione's reply to Harry's letter. She had also enclosed his Charms essay. There were almost no corrections and she'd praised his flexible thinking more than once. For the rest of the night, Harry carried a happy glow with him and his late night snack of Florean Fortesque's strawberries tasted even sweeter.

Soon enough, the first week of treatment was over and Healer Spleenbash was set to arrive once again in the evening. As it was Monday, Aunt Marge appeared punctually on the Dursley's doorstep, her bulldog Ripper at her heel.

For the first fifteen minutes, the large woman made a lot of noise greeting Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, but especially so with Dudley. She squeezed and kissed him before finally sending him away with a twenty-pound note in his fat fist.

Then, her attention turned to Harry who, unsuccessfully, had tried to hide in the living room.

"You, Potter! Come here!" Marge imperiously waved him over. "Take my luggage upstairs, boy, and no shenanigans! I'll know! Then you can take Ripper for his walk."

Mulishly, Harry grabbed her suitcase and dragged it up, one step at a time. At least the heavy thumps of the thing against the stairs were satisfying, and not something Aunt Petunia could scold him for. Ripper yipped, obviously eager to renew the acquaintance.

Dobby was already waiting for Harry and lightened the suitcase with a snap of his fingers.

"Dobby be remembering evil Marge now. Dobby be having eye on her and evil little doggie."

"Thanks," Harry panted. "Let's get this over with. Only ... would you mind coming with me when I take Ripper for his walk? He, uh, likes to chase me. And he bites, but only me."

Dobby's nostrils flared. "Dobby will."

Ripper behaved well enough while other people were around, but as soon as Harry left Privet Drive and went towards the park, Ripper began to growl and crowd him.

"I'd let that if I were you," Harry told him sternly. "My friend is meaner than you."

Ripper was unimpressed and snapped after Harry's new trainers.

"Bad dog!" Harry jumped out of the way.

In that moment, an invisible hand swatted the dog on its head and it jumped around, looking for the source of the stinging pain. Not finding it, Ripper growled at Harry.

"No," Harry repeated. "Behave, or I'll have Dobby put you up in a tree."

He managed to drag the ill-tempered bulldog into the park where Ripper promptly peed against everything that was standing upright. It made Harry's month when he tried to piss on an old gentleman and got a sound whack with the walking cane for his trouble. Ripper was so dazed, he even forgot to growl and just whimpered pitifully.

"Your dog needs training, young man!" the old man bellowed. "During my time we'd have put such mongrels down!"

"I couldn't agree more, sir!" Harry called, laughing. "Sorry!"

For the rest of the walk, Ripper was subdued and Harry could almost pretend to walk a perfectly normal dog. He even generously stayed out ten minutes longer than he'd initially planned, just so he wouldn't have to be there when tea was served and be forced to endure Marge's diatribes.

Coming back late worked out great ... at least at first. Aunt Marge didn't even notice her darling's abnormally quiet behaviour as she was busy stuffing her mouth with cake and sandwiches. She did, however, remember Harry's existence and hollered after him, "Oh, oh, Potter! I've had your aunt put Ripper's bed in your room. Be sure not to disturb his beauty sleep tonight. The poor thing's been gassy all of last week."

Taking a deep breath, Harry counted to ten. He managed to climb up the stairs without stomping but took down Ripper's grubby dog bed from his own bed and dropped it with some force in front of the guest room.

"It's my room," he said angrily, "and I don't want him there. Dobby?"

Dobby appeared at once, eyes on the dog bed but ears turned attentively towards Harry.

"I'm sorry to ask this of you, but could you make sure that nobody can enter our room?" Harry ran both hands through his hair. "This is what I was talking about. She's so ... urgh. Always picking on me and pushing her stupid dog on me."

"Dobby be warding Harry Potter sir's room at once," Dobby said. "Should Dobby place a repelling charm?"

"Whatever gets them off our backs." Harry bit his lip. "That doesn't make me a bad person, right? It's not like I want to prank them. But there's so much going on with the goblins, and it's my holidays, and I just don't want to deal with Marge on top of all that."

"Dobby be trying to be satisfied with confounding evil muggles," Dobby retorted sullenly. "If Harry Potter sir be leaving it to Dobby, mean Marge be shipped to Timbuktu tomorrow."

That made Harry laugh and his bad mood evaporated. "Let's see how we get around her, first. I'd rather not get in trouble for making excessive sport of a muggle."

"For some muggles, there be no such thing as excessive sport." Dobby's scowl lifted and he bounced. "And now it be time for Harry Potter sir's afternoon snack. Would Harry Potter sir like afternoon tea? Dobby be making fantastic cucumber sandwiches."

Harry could never say no when Dobby offered food and he spent a great couple of hours in his blissfully silent room munching on scones and sandwiches and penning yet another letter to Hermione.

Dear Hermione,

I'm a little sad that you'll be leaving for France soon, because I don't think that Hedwig can make that trip very often. Maybe Dobby will be able to deliver letters; I'll have to ask him! Still, it'll be a little lonely with you being so far away. I'm also a little envious because I've never left Britain and would love to see the ocean. Will it be very hot where you're going? What will you eat? Do you speak French?

I'm almost halfway through the Arithmancy course book. It's still super interesting, so I'll send my letter to Professor McGonagall this week and ask her to drop Divination and add Arithmancy and Runes. I also found a book about ritual magic. Have you read anything about it, yet? If not, you should do it because it's rather fascinating and very different than anything we've been studying so far.

Have you heard from Ron, yet? I haven't gotten a single letter and I really could use the company. Not that your letters aren't great, of course! But I miss him and I'm beginning to think that something might have happened.

Anyway, I hope you'll have lots and lots of fun in France! You'll have to tell me all about it as soon as you're back. And if you still want to meet for ice cream, let me know. I think I know how we can make it happen.

Love, and greetings to your parents,

Harry

Likely knowing that this would be the last chance to deliver a letter for a while, Hedwig hopped onto the table and offered her leg as Harry folded and sealed the paper.

"Thanks, my girl." Harry gently stroked her breast feathers and smiled. "You've flown around a lot lately. Why don't you take a break when you're at Hermione's and see if she wants you to take a letter back? Dobby and I will manage for a short while."

Hedwig's churr was part amused and part sceptical, but most of all her affection shone through.

"No, really," Harry continued. "You could even go with them to France, I bet Hermione would love that."

Tilting her head, Hedwig seemed to ponder the offer. She then ruffled her feathers, pecked Harry's finger reproachfully and took off in one smooth beat of her wings.

"She be back tomorrow," Dobby predicted with a grin. "And Harry Potter sir be having visitors in half an hour."

"Oh! Is it that late already?" Harry haphazardly put his writing utensils away and closed the ink bottle. Out of habit, he sniffed himself. "Eugh, I should probably shower and change, I smell like Ripper."

Dobby could have cleaned Harry up with a snap of his clever little fingers, but Harry wanted to try out the shower in the trunk apartment and thus spent a blissful ten minutes under several powerful streams of lukewarm water.

Washed and clothed in new shorts and a fitting T-shirt, he then eagerly awaited Healer Spleenbash's arrival. She wasn't alone, however. With her came a withered, rather large goblin in an old-fashioned three-piece suit. He looked fierce with his pointy teeth and shrewd, yellow eyes.

"Heir Potter, may I introduce to you the Potter account manager Sharptooth. Sharptooth has taken care of the Potter holdings and assets for neigh on two centuries," she said after the costumary greetings were out of the way. "He is eager to make your acquaintance, so I'll leave you two to talk while I consult with your elf about your progress. Did you write your diary like Healer Bonepick told you?"

"Yes, of course. Dobby has everything set up for you."

"Very well." Spleenbash and Dobby retreated into the ritual room, leaving the study to Harry and the account manager.

"Er, which seat would you like?" Harry asked.

"Behind the desk will do, as the trunk is Gringotts' property," Sharptooth replied, though not unkindly. "Take a seat, Heir Potter. There's much to discuss and little time, so don't bother with refreshments."

"Alright then." Harry took the chair in front of the desk as asked and looked expectantly at the old goblin. "How can I help you?"

Sharptooth grinned broadly. "Exactly the question I wanted to hear, young Potter. As you know there'll be a lot of gold coming your way in the near future. I am here today to discuss what to do with that gold."

"Well, I thought we'd talk about the amount and then just dump it in my vault," Harry admitted. "I don't really know what to do with money, other than spending it on school things or food, and saving it."

"Fair enough," Sharptooth allowed. "That's why I'm here. I propose opening another vault for the basilisk gold in your name, and your name only. That way, it'll be independent from your trust vault and can only be accessed by you. This will serve you well in the future, even if you can't think of a reason why right now."

"That's fine, we'll do it that way," Harry said. "Er, not to be crass, but can you tell me how much gold it'll be?"

"Goblins don't think it crass to talk about money at all," Sharptooth informed him. "And I'll answer your question in a moment, but let us get the more important things out of the way first, yes?" At Harry's agreeable nod, the goblin continued, "Gringotts sent an envoy to Hogwarts to inform Headmaster Dumbledore of our intention to harvest the beast. He wasn't best pleased and stalled us for several days, although I have no idea why. Since the law is on our side, there's nothing he can do to stop the process. However, we ran into one serious complication ..."

"You can't get into the chamber," Harry guessed. "Sorry, I should have thought of that."

"It would be unwise to bring you personally to Hogwarts, but since you're a parselmouth, I was tasked to inquire whether you'd be amenable to train a snake to act in your stead."

"A snake?" Harry was gobsmacked. "Bloody hell, that's brilliant!"

Sharptooth grinned again. "We thought so, too." He reached into his pocket and took out a small green snake. "It's a Smooth Green Snake, native to North America. This particular fellow is without any magical abilities but he is inherently magic and interacts well with the magic in his environment. He is also able to comprehend a great deal. His sort make pleasant familiars for those so inclined. He belongs to our own breeding program and is one of our prized males."

"He's beautiful," Harry wispered. Without noticing, he slipped into parseltongue. "Hello there, I'm Harry. What's your name?"

The snake uncoiled and raised its tiny head. "Hello Speaker. I am Snake. Your eyes are pretty, like my scales."

"You're really very pretty," Harry agreed with a chuckle. "The goblins asked me to tell you a password to help them enter a hidden chamber. Will you help them?"

"I will. Tell me the word."

"Just tell the entrance to open." Harry reached out with a finger and smiled brightly when the small snake sought out the warmth of his skin. "Maybe ask for a proper way down since I don't know how fond they are of slides."

"Sounds easy enough," the snake hissed. "Well worth the mouse I'll get as a reward."

Harry stroked the glossy head. "Thank you."

"He has the password?" Sharptooth asked. At Harry's nod, he gently picked up the snake and let it glide into the inner pocket of his vest. "Thank you, Heir Potter. Now, you asked how much the basilisk is worth ... well, it largely depends on its size and the condition it's in. Since you told Chief Ragnok that it'll be in prime condition, Gringotts' first offer is a flat 1.200.000 galleons. It's not what the beast is likely worth, but we'll adjust the sum as soon as the team had a chance to assess it. I'll make sure to get you the best deal, of course. To do differently would be a stain on my honour."

Harry was stuck on the amount of gold Gringotts seemed to be prepared to dump on him. "That's a lot of gold," he said weakly.

"It is, but it is your due, Heir Potter. Never be ashamed to ask for what is yours."

"Right." Harry shook himself. "If it's really that much, can I transfer money to other people?"

"Of course. How much are we talking here?"

"The basilisk hurt a lot of my schoolmates and some of them were petrified for months and months," Harry said quietly. "I thought, maybe 10.000 galleons for each kid, and Mrs. Norris, the caretaker's cat, and another 10.000 for Hogwarts, since one of the ghosts kind of died again to protect a student. It won't give the lost time back, but maybe it helps a little."

"Yes, we can certainly do that. Do you want to open vaults for each of the children? I assume that the sum for Hogwarts can just go to their primary vault?"

"Yes, and yes. I want the kids to have full control, maybe keep it together until they're seventeen or something. I, uhm, I already wrote a list with the names." Harry fumbled the small piece of paper from his trouser pocket.

"Excellent, Heir Potter." Sharptooth looked the list over, scribbled several notes into a ledger and hummed quietly. "It will be done as soon as the details of the sale are finalized."

"Thank you." Harry fidgeted a little before gathering his courage and asking, "Er, can it maybe be done anonymously? Just give it over and leave it at that?"

Sharptooths bushy eyebrows rose. "Certainly, but I generally don't advise it. The parents would get suspicious, and rightly so, if there were absolutely no information forthcoming. They might think of it as hush money from Hogwarts or the Ministry and really start asking questions you don't want them to ask."

"Oh!" Harry chewed on his lower lip in thought. "What would you tell them, then?"

"General information should suffice, such as the reason for the money to be paid, and that the benefactor wishes to remain anonymous. There might be questions, yes, but the appearance of openness is sometimes all that's required. Additionally, for a small fee Gringotts can certainly arrange for a secrecy oath at the time of the vault transfer. It won't affect Muggles, but at least the wizard families would honour your wish for anonymity."

"I could deal with that, I think. Let's do it that way, then." Relaxing, Harry thought of another thing. "Can I add Dobby to the basilisk vault?"

"You can give your house elf access to any vault you are able to access yourself," Sharptooth confirmed. He made another note. "Before I leave today, I have another task on my agenda. Chief Ragnok has delayed the contract signing for the memory of your fight with the basilisk because Dumbledore has stalled the proceedings, but it would give Gringotts something to do while we get the business sorted out. Would you consent to allow Healer Spleenbash to assist with that?"

"I don't mind." Harry stood. "Right now?"

"I imagine that she and your elf Dobby will be done with their consultation now." Sharptooth stood as well and let Harry precede him into the foyer. "Yes, the door to the ritual room is open. Excellent."

Healer Spleenbash showed no surprise at Sharptooth's request. She asked Dobby for the slip of parchment, made note of the date of acquisition and then said, "Have you thought of the compensation yet, Heir Potter?"

"I'd really like to give ritual magic a try," Harry admitted. "If there's a way to arrange that, I'd be happy."

"I'll send Chief Ragnok word and get back to you as soon as may be. If he's not in a position to help with that, we'll revisit the issue. Now ..." Healer Spleenbash waddled over to the shelf and took down the pensieve. "Healer Bonepick showed you how this works. Please order your thoughts and try to remember the time in the Chamber of Secrets as clearly as you possibly can. Do it several times, if necessary. When you're confident that you've got all the important details, let me know and we'll extract the copy of the memory."

She led Harry through a couple of breathing exercises and then gently jogged his memory with questions. It took a while, but at last Harry felt confident enough to offer the memory and Healer Spleenbash extracted it with skillful fingers.

"See? This is your memory," she told Harry and pointed to a silvery, whispy substance in the pensieve bowl. "Now we have two options to view it and I'm sure Healer Bonepick explained them to you. Still, it won't hurt to go over it again."

Harry quickly agreed; the whole concept of watching memories still seemed unbelievable and, if he were honest, he trusted Healer Spleenbash more than he trusted Bonepick even though it made little sense.

"The first is the projection. The memory plays out much like a Muggle movie would. This is very practical for large crowds, especially in courts." She beckoned Harry closer. "The second option is full immersion. By putting your head right into the pensieve, you'll fall into the memory and relive it as a bystander. This is obviously a very intimate experience and should be reserved for special occasions. This feature gets a lot of use during criminal investigations because it allows the aurors to see details a witness might have subconsciously noticed but didn't mention because the information didn't have any value for them at the moment."

Fascinated, Harry followed the gentle movements of his memory. "Sounds really wicked. Can we try? I should probably check if there are mistakes before giving it to the chief, anyway."

"As your healer I have to ask: are you truly comfortable watching the memory that way? It is a vastly different experience than actually remembering it and the sights might be disturbing for you. Since you told us that neither the school nurse nor the headmaster offered you counselling, it's a concern. Setting back your recovery is not acceptable and if I have to protect you from yourself, I will."

"Then we start with the projection," Harry decided, "but I made a deal, and I want to do it right."

"Am I allowed to watch as well?" Sharptooth asked.

Harry nodded. "How do we start?"

Spleenbash cocked her head and grinned wickedly. "Do you have your wand?"

Before Harry could answer in the negative, Dobby pressed the wand into his hand and bounced a little. "Uh, I guess I do. Thanks, Dobby."

"Do you see the small rune sequence here?" Spleenbash pointed it out. "This one activates the projection. Try it."

"I'll get in trouble," Harry retorted, backing up a little. "Another black mark and they'll expel me from Hogwarts and snap my wand."

"Not in this trunk, you won't," Sharptooth replied rather smugly. "The trunk is a goblin dwelling and therefore your laws have no bearing here. Besides, it is shielded against the Ministry's little tracking charms. Do as Healer Spleenbash says. Try it."

Gulping but tempted beyond help, Harry carefully tapped the rune sequence and jerked back when a 3D projection appeared over the bowl. Apparently the healer had started pulling the memory when he and Ron had gone to get Lockhart. "Wow!" he blurted at the incredible detail of the scene. Then Harry heard indistinct talking. "It's even got sound!"

"It's a bit quiet. Tap here, twice should do it," Spleenbash instructed. Harry did and the volume went up. "Much better."

They all settled back and watched the events unfold. Healer Spleenbash made several notes but Sharptooth watched avidly without once taking his eyes away. When the moment came to open the entrance in the girls' bathroom, he leaned forward and growled under his breath. The snake skins at the bottom of the chute certainly got a reaction, but it paled in comparison to their outrage when Lockhart tried to obliviate the two boys and claim whatever commendations might be coming his way. His self-inflicted amnesia caused the goblins to cheer gutturally while the cave-in had them suck in their breath.

Finally memory-Harry stepped into the chamber proper. The details were sometimes a little fuzzy, but the important parts, like Ginny's lifeless form at the end of the chamber and Tom Riddle's self-important monologue, stood out in stark detail. When Riddle called forth the basilisk, both goblins were close to biting their claws off. The suspense was even killing Harry, and he'd already survived the whole thing.

"That beast is huge!" Healer Spleenbash screeched as the snake flowed from Salazar Slytherin's open mouth. "Was it really that huge?!"

"I don't know. I think so. But I'm small, so maybe it just appeared to be huge," Harry said, distracted by Fawkes timely appearance and the basilisks tortured thrashing as its eyes were ruined. Seeing it the second time made the phoenix's heroics even greater in his mind. "I'm really very glad Fawkes came and helped me. I should give him money too, although I have no idea what he could use it for."

"He would think of something, I'm sure," Sharptooth snarled. "Now hush, the wretched Dark Lordling is talking again!"

It was hard for Harry to see himself first run from the huge snake and then kill it with Gryffindor's sword, getting stabbed in the elbow by a huge tooth in return. Healer Spleenbash had been exactly right to warn him, he thought, as he suddenly became lightheaded and the edge of his vision whited out a little.

Dobby caught him and lowered him into a promptly conjured chair and still Harry's gaze was glued to the projection. After the terror of seeing himself almost dying it was immeasurably satisfying to see memory-Harry stabbing the cursed diary, thereby ending the existence of Tom Riddle's shade. The following relief of having Fawkes sitting in his lap and crying onto the bite wound was the complete reverse of the horror he'd just suffered. As he'd been nearly delirious after the whole experience, the whole chamber had taken on an almost otherwordly glow. Fawkes especially seemed like an angel, shimmering with all the colours of the rainbow and sounding like the most beautiful creature imaginable.

"That basilisk venom obviously packed a punch," Sharptooth said dryly when the memory ended shortly after. He put his gnarled paw onto Harry's shoulder. "Well done, youngling."

The small green snake poked its head out of the goblin's vest and hissed, "You killed the King of Snakes?"

"I had to," Harry hissed back, a little shamed when faced with the basilisk's little relative. "I'm sorry, but it wanted to kill me first."

"You needn't be sorry, Speaker. The King was old and mad. You ended his suffering." Snake wound himself around Harry's shaking fingers and flicked his knuckles with his tongue.

"Uhm ..." Harry cleared his throat and carefully wiped his damp eyes. "I think that's more or less what happened, but I can try again if it's too ... wobbly."

"This memory will suffice," Healer Spleenbash said and sounded remarkably calm. "For today you have suffered enough. With your permission, however, I'd like to schedule weekly appointments with a mind healer. It's obvious that you need someone to talk about what happened, and other things besides if I'm guessing correctly. The next time I'm here, I'll show you several files and you can decide who you'd like to meet. If you don't like that someone, we'll try again."

Harry didn't know how he felt about that, but as he was still rather shaken he just nodded.

"That went a little sideways, eh, lad?" Sharptooth said, squeezed Harry's shoulder and then released him. "How about we finish for the day and you get a good dose of sunshine and a special treat from your Dobby?"

"Dobby be having the perfect treat!" the elf boasted. "Dobby be taking care of Harry Potter sir."

The goblins departed immediately, with Snake hissing a little goodbye out of Sharptooth's pocket, and then Dobby whisked Harry away to a sunny, secluded spot in the park where he treated him to a delicious chocolate brownie, vanilla ice cream and his favourite lemonade.

oOo

Another two days later Healer Spleenbash and two goblin warriors arrived in the trunk's fireplace. Harry was grateful because his relatives and especially Aunt Marge had been a complete nightmare. Not satisfied to have Harry go out of his way to avoid them all, Uncle Vernon had tried to bash in his door and even rip away the bars in front of his window. Only the curious neighbours and the team of judges for the garden competition had kept him in check ... mostly. Harry just knew that there'd be hell to pay if one of them ever got their hands on him.

"Greetings, Heir Potter," Healer Spleenbash said. "Chief Ragnok requests your presence in Gringotts and asks that you not tarry. Your elf may accompany you, of course. Our business shall not take more than two hours."

Harry exchanged a worried look with Dobby. "Is everything alright?"

"As you wizards like to say: just peachy. Please follow along, now." Spleenbash gestured for the first guard to go back to Gringotts. "Watch closely so you won't get lost in the Floo network."

"Gringotts, The Chief's Antechamber!" the guard shouted. He stepped into the roaring flames and vanished swiftly.

"Now you," Healer Spleenbash instructed. "Speak loudly and clearly. The guard will grab you and pull you out, so don't panic. Ready?"

"No," Harry replied, which made the goblin grin toothily. "Gringotts, The Chief's Antechamber!"

He stepped into the oddly lukewarm fire and was sucked away with the power of a hundred vacuum cleaners. Other fireplaces whirled by as Harry rushed through the Floo network and he could catch glimpses of many empty Floo chambers. They all appeared to be in the same style and he guessed that they all belonged to Gringotts.

Then, suddenly, two clawed hands shot into the green inferno, grabbed him by the ankles and pulled him out of the next fireplace. Before Harry could even squeak, the goblin had already set him on his feet and cleaned up the soot on his face and clothes.

"Alright, Heir Potter?" the guard asked.

"Yeah, I'm good," Harry replied. "Great ride, although not as great as your carts."

The guard's teeth showed as he grinned. "I agree."

Just then Healer Spleenbash, the second guard, and Dobby appeared in the chamber. After looking Harry over critically and letting another cleaning charm wash over him, Healer Spleenbash ordered the guards to announce them to Chief Ragnok, which they did with great acclarity.

"Welcome, Heir Potter!" Ragnok boomed as soon as the announcement was made. He hopped down from his massive, golden chair and met them halfway in his office. At least Harry supposed that it was his office, although it might have easily been the throne room, just with a huge, ornate desk between the throne and possible visitors. The decorations and pictures on the walls were breathtaking and Harry had to force himself not to stare too long. As it was, he almost missed the two dozen goblins, among them Sharptooth, and the handful of wizards and witches in festive robes that were standing at attention close to the palatial wall. "Please come, we have much to do."

Instead of retreating behind his desk, Ragnok led Harry towards an ornamental circle on the polished marble floor. He then gestured for Healer Spleenbash and Dobby to join the ranks of the guests. The guards retreated to the door but kept it open.

"Thank you for agreeing to accompany Healer Spleenbash tonight," Ragnok said. "If you haven't guessed the reason already, I'll make it short: we got into the Chamber of Secrets and have begun to harvest the remains of the basilisk." His shrewd eyes were firm on Harry's face. In the silence, a pin drop could've been heard. "As I have seen your memory, and led the team that discovered the carcass, let me be the first to congratulate you on your achievement. Not a one of my men is confident that they could've walked away from this fight without significant injury, even with the assistance Dumbledore's phoenix offered, and especially not at your age and level of training. To further honour Gringotts, it was indeed all done using one of our own greatest blades, the Sword of Gryffindor. Well done, youngling. Gringotts holds your success , and therefore you, in high esteem."

He offered his bejewelled hand and Harry shook it, not knowing what else to do. To his right, the attendees began to roar and hammered ceremonial daggers against small, richly adorned shields.

"I welcome you, Heir Potter, as a Friend To The Nation!" Ragnok shouted over the noise. "All that Gringotts has to offer is yours for the asking, as we hope to be able to ask you for assistance if the need arises."

This declaration was met with abrupt silence, but it was oddly this that kept Harry from freezing. He had read about the rare honour in the book Dobby had brought from Gringotts and remembered the traditional phrase because it had struck a chord in him.

"As Gringotts' wealth is my wealth, my wand is Gringotts' wand," he said, raising said wand. "May we always agree in matters of life and profit and may our enemies rue the day they provoced our wrath."

"So mote it be," Ragnok intoned solemnly.

A golden light streamed from the tip of Harry's wand. It heaved around the chief and himself, spreading out more and more until the whole, vast chamber was filled with it. Then it slowly receded, found an empty space on the wall and began forming colours and shapes. A seal appeared, around which a large basilisk coiled. Harry had a feeling that it was his family's seal and it made his throat close up.

"The Nation has accepted your vow of friendship, Heir Potter," Ragnok boomed. "Welcome, Friend. You and everything you hold dear will be safe in our halls."

Harry bowed deeply. "My gratitude can't be measured in gold and precious stones, Chief Ragnok."

Again, the witnesses cheered, Dobby among the loudest.

Pleased, Ragnok lightly touched Harry's shoulder. "Well done, youngling. Now that the official part is over, let's get down to business." He rubbed his hands together as he ushered Harry to the sofas and bade him to sit. Around them, the guests to the brief ceremony headed for the door, no doubt to spread the news. "I love this part. Negotiating and deciding, knowing that whatever you have in mind will happen, the flow of gold all around you ... it's the best kind of ecstasy."

"Then you'll have lots of ideas what to do with the basilisk money?" Harry asked.

Ragnok laughed loudly. "Of course, I do! But first things first: the amount still needs to be settled, and for that you'll need your account manager, youngling. Friend To The Nation or no, it just won't do for the heir of a noble and ancient wizard house to negotiate without their manager. You see, they earn their fortune through you - if your wealth rises, so does theirs. Come, Sharptooth, and you also, Healer Spleenbash. Both your expertise will be required tonight."

"And Dobby?" Harry asked. "He's my friend, I don't want him to have to wait at the door for hours."

"No, of course not. Come, Dobby. Your place is next to your wizard. Guards, close the doors!"

Quivering with excitement and gratitude, the elf climbed onto the sofa and sat as close to Harry as possible.

"As I said, first things first. The basilisk!" Ragnok's roar made Harry jump a little while Sharptooth and Healer Spleenbash smirked. "Where is the contract, Sharptooth?"

Sharptooth opened a folder and unrolled a lenghty scroll on the table. "Here it is, Chief. What will you offer our friend for the carcass of the beast?"

Ragnok produced his own scroll. "We made Heir Potter an offer of 1.200.000 galleons in good faith for a basilisk of approximately fifty feet in length, teeth and skin almost completely intact and nearly fresh. It remained to be determined as follows: the exact length, the exact age, the quality of skin, the presence of venom in the teeth and venom sacks, the colour of the scales, the fragrance of the beast's magic and, of course, the presence of viable eggs or sperm."

"And what is the surveyors' verdict?" Sharptooth asked.

"They were in agreement: the offer can not stand," Ragnok declared.

Harry deflated a little, but the chief's next words had him sitting straight almost immediately.

"After careful judgement, both Gringotts' and House Potter's surveyers agreed that the carcass of the basilisk is worth exactly 4.986.782 galleons, 9 sickles, and four knuts, to be paid in full as soon as possible."

"What?" Harry squeaked. He cleared his throat and tried again. "That's ... that's more than triple the amount! How?"

"Look for yourself, youngling." Ragnok offered the scroll. "Your basilisk measured in at seventy-three feet, weighing in at just shy of four tons. Not counting the tooth you used to stab the diary, its set of teeth was quite whole. There were eleven ounces of venom still in the sacks, its skin was intact just as you promised, and we found several eggs in its belly. As they're all viable, they'll bring us a very tidy sum!"

"Wait, there are eggs? And they're gonna hatch?" Harry choked on his spit. "That's crazy! The babies will kill people just by looking at them!"

"Calm yourself, youngling," Healer Spleenbash said. "It's true that basilisks belong to the most dangerous magical creatures on earth. However, a basilisk can only ever be created from an ordinary chicken egg that was hatched under a toad. Natural occuring progeny of a basilisk lacks the deadly stare, although they are both highly venomous and poisonous. They're called death adders and will only be sold to parselmouths who know what they're about. As a matter of fact, despite their name, death adders, once they bond to a wizard, are very useful for light magical craft, and highly sought after. They won't be misused, you have Gringotts' word on that."

"Huh. Wow." Harry wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans. "Sorry."

"Don't be, your worry is understandable," Sharptooth said. "The last reason for the increase in payment are the half dozen skins we found in the surrounding dungeons. Each of them is immensely useful for the production of protective gear and that is not an exaggeration. The goblins working with dragons will be very glad to receive new equipment. So, do you agree to Gringotts' offer, Heir Potter?"

"Of course, yes!"

"Then please read the contract and sign here when you're done."

Everybody waited patiently while Harry read over the clauses, and his few questions were answered clearly without any attempt at prevarication. A quarter hour later, the contract was signed in blood and Harry felt a little dizzy with the knowledge that Dobby would never have to work for a family like the Malfoys ever again.

"Let's celebrate!" Ragnok called, clapping his hands. A large spread of refreshments appeared and they all toasted to their good fortune with goblin ale and lemonade.

"Now on to the much smaller matter of Heir Potter's memory of his fight with the basilisk," Ragnok went on after they had each eaten a couple of canapés. "You asked for access to the ritual circle in the trunk Gringotts has placed in your house. Is that still your wish?"

"Yes, please."

"Then I'll grant it, although we'll have to be ... artistic in how we accomplish this." The chief grinned. "To that end I'd like to offer you a partial lease of the trunk, Heir Potter. Would it please you to call the bedroom, the bathroom, and the ritual room your own for the rest of the summer, for the tidy sum of ten galleons?"

"I do," Harry replied. "But why can't I rent the whole trunk?"

"That's where we're being artistic," Sharptooth said after Ragnok gave him permission to explain. "As long as the trunk is nominally ours, it counts as a goblin dwelling where we may travel as we please. Once a wizard rents the space whole, it is turned over to the Ministry of Magic's jurisdiction. You, however, will only rent forty-five percent of the space, allowing you to use the parts you rented as you wish while at the same time allowing us to meet you without much hassle for your healing appointments."

"Oooh, clever!" Harry smiled. "Let's do it!"

"Remember the other beautiful perk of the trunk," Healer Spleenbash purred. "You, dear youngling, can do magic in there."

For a moment, the possibilities seemed nearly endless. A bubble of pure happiness rose from Harry's stomach to his chest where it popped and flooded him with warmth. The signing of that particular contract was a joy, despite the small sting of the bloodquill's magic on the back of his hand.

"It's good to see some colour in your cheeks," Healer Spleenbash chuckled. "However, doing magic won't help you get healthy. As Sharptooth and Bonepick said, you need a lot of sunshine, rest, good food and nutrients, and also a little exercise. To that end, Gringotts wants to make you an offer."

Ragnok cleared his throat. "As you know, Gringotts is a very rich nation, Heir Potter. Most of our ressources are tied up in businesses, though, and the amount of easily accessible gold is very limited. In fact, Gringotts won't be able to pay the sum for your basilisk in full, immediately. As that would be a breach of contract and very embarrassing besides, Healer Spleenbash came up with a solution that I hope will satisfy us both."

"Due to your status as a minor, you are currently unable to visit any of your family's estates," Sharptooth stated bluntly. "Your guardian would probably allow it, but unfortunately he is not eligible to make such decisions for you right now. Several years ago, his proxy has declared his intent to ban you from your family's holdings until you have reached the age of twenty-one. So far, he has not changed his mind."

"Why?" Harry asked, frowning.

"I don't know," Sharptooth replied. "You'll have to ask Dumbledore that yourself."

"No, I mean, why can't my guardian make those decisions? And wait, Headmaster Dumbledore is my guardian's proxy?" Harry felt as if he were riding on yet another rollercoaster without knowing how he'd gotten on in the first place. "I don't understand."

The goblins shared a long, speaking look. Sharptooth straightened himself and said, "Your actual magical guardian is a man named Sirius Black. He was your father's best friend, you see, and he is your godfather in magic. In 1981 he supposedly betrayed your parents by giving away the secret of their location, allowing the Dark Lord to find and kill them. He also supposedly killed twelve muggles and another of your father's friends, Peter Pettigrew. For that, he went to Azkaban, where he spent the last twelve years."

"What?" Harry croaked, shocked.

"I know, lad. It is a disgrace," Sharptooth growled. "Since no minor can live in the magical world without a guardian, Dumbledore took on the duty. He holds many positions in the national and international governments, as well as being the headmaster of the school you were to go to. The Wizengamot, Great Britains body of government, therefore appointed him as Sirius Black's proxy. He's been holding the position since shortly after you survived the killing curse that fateful night and exercised his rights in a variety of ways."

"Why won't he allow me to find out more about my family?" Harry asked. "And why did he send me to live with my relatives? He knows they don't like me!"

"I don't know," Sharptooth admitted. "But we're prepared to help with that, at least." He opened a drawer and pulled out a huge, leather-bound book. "This is a catalogue with available estates. In lieu of gold, we'd like to offer you an estate or estates of your choice. Not only will this spare our liquid assets, it will allow you to live independently and safely, as we'll be protecting the land with war wards after the purchase. You will have the opportunity to pursue your recovery to the fullest. Healer Spleenbash quite insists that this is the best course of action for your health."

"I can do that?" Harry couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. "I can just buy a house and Dumbledore won't be able to do something about it? Really?"

"I don't see why not," Sharptooth replied with a shrug. "You can use the trunk to come and go as you please, and it doesn't seem very probable that your relatives will call the authorities should you vanish for days at a time. And as to magical protections against the Dark Lord's people ... I certainly never felt any wards besides the one your mother cast on you, never mind live guards. I'm rather sure Dumbledore would never even know. As you'll have bought the property without your family's money, it doesn't fall under his direct purview. But even if he should notice, it would be child's play for Gringotts to appoint a steward and tie everything up in so much red tape that you'll have reached your majority before the court comes to a decision. In fact, we should set up such a contract tonight, just to be on the safe side."

"I ... that would be so, so ..." Harry took a deep breath. "Fantastic! Truly, this would be so much better than gold!"

"Then have a look, there are only estates listed you can afford, and that Healer Spleenbash has deemed beneficial to your circumstances," Ragnok said. "While you're ocupied, Sharptooth and I will negotiate the details of his stewardship."

Beaming, and deliberately pushing away the horror of having a murderer for a godfather, Harry accepted the book and opened it.

"You'll have to help me pick, Dobby," he said. "We should take a house with lots of land around it for your berries."

"Dobby will!" the elf promised.

There were a little less than two dozen estates to choose from, half of them outright ineligible due to the lack of cultivable land. When Dobby tried to press Harry into having a closer look at a beautiful seaside manor, the boy refused staunchly on the grounds that the small parcel of land wasn't even enough to plant a proper garden to feed Harry, nevermind support one busy elf. As beautiful as the stretch of beach was that came with the cottage, it definitely wouldn't do what he'd promised his friend. Also, it was expensive; too expensive in Harry's opinion.

In the end, and much sooner than all of them had anticipated, Harry had picked just four options for viewing. One of them wasn't even habitable, as it was just a huge, wild plot of land that had never even been built upon, but Harry was happy to keep living with his relatives if it meant that Dobby could work to his little heart's content.

"We will arrange for visits immediately," Sharptooth said with a pleased nod. "What time would suit you best?"

Harry mentally went over his daily chores. "The evenings would be good. I can skip dinner and there'll still be light out."

"I'll arrange for your pick-up at seven, then," Sharptooth decided. "Oh, and before I forget: during all of last year our missives to you returned unopened. Do you know why?"

"No, I'm sorry, sir." Harry swallowed. "Did I miss something important?"

"Thankfully not." Sharptooth bared his fangs. "Although we're happy that you're now sending your Dobby to pick up your mail. Next to Gringotts owls, there's no better way to send sensitive post."

"I hope it won't be too much, he's already juggling a lot of jobs and keeping track of my food and stuff," Harry said.

"Once a month would suffice," Sharptooth replied. "Ideally on the first. On that day we send out the bank statements. If we have more pressing communications, we now know to call your elf, so don't worry about it."

"Dobby be a good elf, Dobby most certainly can do it."

"If it ever gets too much, you'll tell me, right?" Harry rubbed Dobby's narrow back. "I already feel lousy, letting you do so much around the house and garden."

"Dobby be still having lots of magic for good work," the elf said proudly. "Harry Potter sir truly not be needing to worry!"

"Well, alright then. Was there anything left?"

"Yes, the issue of keeping Dumbledore's rather large nose out of your business," Ragnok said, which startled a laugh out of Harry.

And that was what they did for the last half hour of the visit. Compared to this contract, the sale of the basilisk had been as easy as breathing. Awarding a stewardship was quite obviously a huge boon to the account manager's whole family, even if it would be kept under wraps for as long as possible to protect Harry's interests.

"I'm honoured at the trust you're showing my clan," Sharptooth said after after mutual vows and a bloody handshake, and after Harry had signed the agreement. The goblin was visibly moved and even cleared his throat. In a rare show of gentleness, Healer Spleenbash touched his forearm and patted him. "As you're the last of your whole line, and a child still, my house will be your house until you reach the age of majority. If you have concerns, whatever they may be, allow me to hear them and try to alleviate them. As your trusted steward, I can do no less. Don't make me violate my vows, youngling. It'll make us both look bad."

Harry grinned shyly and nodded. "Yeah, okay. But you too, right?"

The old goblin grumped and Healer Spleenbash tittered.

"It is settled, splendid," Ragnok said and clapped his hands. "Thank you for agreeing to our scheme, Heir Potter. Gringotts appreciates your flexibility. We will meet several more times during the summer to finalize all of our dealings, so I'd like you to keep thinking about your needs."

"Thank you, Chief Ragnok. I appreciate that very much." Harry smiled in relief. "I'll probably have a ton of questions!"

"Well, good! Being curious equals being eager to learn and that can hardly be wrong."

After all pressing matters were dealt with, Ragnok and Healer Spleenbash urged Harry to finally eat his fill. The visit was over far too soon in Harry's opinion but the day was catching up with him fast. His many questions would have to wait for next time.

oOo

Now that he knew that he could escape from Privet Drive, and possibly for good, Harry had a very different view on his relatives. Their bluster and threats didn't faze him much anymore and he only followed Aunt Petunia's orders because he didn't want to tip his hand too soon. Ignoring Marge was a lot harder but he even managed that somehow. It helped that she suffered in the summer heat and mostly stayed inside during the day.

"Beastly heat!" Harry heard her rant on his way down to the kitchen. "I'm sure the Potter boy has something to do with it!"

How, Harry couldn't fathom, but then again his relatives rarely made sense on any given day.

I hope one of the three houses will fit us, he thought as he watered the garden after breakfast. It was Aunt Petunia's turn being judged and she wanted everything to be perfect. I could probably have a house built on the empty property, but that might take too long to be of much use this summer. Maybe I could rent another trunk from the goblins and live in there if it's otherwise perfect ...

All day, his thoughts revolved around his business with Gringotts, but also his heretofore unknown godfather, Sirius Black. Right before falling asleep the night before, he had scribbled a couple of questions on his notepad, and in the morning the whole thing still seemed farfetched and weird. After a good night's rest, Sirius Black being a murderer honestly didn't seem as strange as Dumbledore not listening to Harry about his relatives and secretly forbidding others to help him explore his origins. Sirius Black being evil was easy to understand, Dumbledore's behaviour was not. Citing a need to protect him from Voldemort wasn't a good enough reason to keep him in the dark ... or with relatives that hated him, Harry decided.

Evening couldn't come soon enough, even with Hermione's letter to respond to. He'd have explained it all to her, had Dobby not cautioned him against putting his family affairs in writing for people to find.

"Some wizards be stealing mail," Dobby explained, "and Harry Potter sir earning so much gold would be very interesting. Harry Potter sir's safety be the most important thing. Also," and the elf wagged his finger admonishingly, "such things are kept to the family regardless. It be nobody else's business."

Harry understood that, even as he didn't like keeping Hermione out of the loop (Ron hadn't earned it, he thought, what with not responding at all to his letters). "I'd love to tell her, though, after everything she went through to help me find the basilisk."

"Then you be asking goblins how to do that," Dobby returned. "You not be going off half-cocked anymore, Harry Potter sir. Miss Mione and Dobby won't be liking that."

That was certainly true, and so Harry scratched out the sensitive parts and started over, telling Hermione all about his horrible Aunt Marge and that he hoped to see her soon because he really needed that ice cream now.

"There, that's better, right?" he asked once he was finished.

Dobby nodded but snapped his finger, making the paper glow briefly. "Dobby still be securing Harry Potter sir's letters for her eyes only. Dobby be starting to do that for all the letters."

They had a light dinner before Sharptooth appeared. Even if Harry had wanted to eat more, the anticipation was making his stomach clench and his feet restless.

Finally it was seven o'clock and Sharptooth stepped out of the trunk's fireplace. He was accompanied by a much younger goblin whose nose was literally pressed to a roll of parchment as he read it.

"Greetings, Heir Potter. This is Tarok, he'll take notes for me and also see to it that you won't get lost." Tarok looked up with wide eyes and mumbled a greeting. "For our first visit I have chosen Connolly Hall. The Floo connection is active, so if you'd please call the name of the property as you follow me ..."

For the third time in two days, Harry whirled through the Floo system and was spat out in an ornate, huge entrance hall. Sharptooth smirked at his less than graceful entrance but cleaned him up without a word. As soon as Dobby and Tarok made their appearance, Sharptooth took off, showing Harry around more rooms than he could count. Connolly Hall was large and sat in the middle of a sizable property, but the overly lavish style wasn't Harry's cup of tea and Dobby confirmed that changing the things he absolutely didn't like would take quite a bit of time and money.

"It's not that it's ugly or anything, I liked the pictures well enough," Harry tried to explain his feelings when Sharptooth noticed his reluctance. "But I just can't see myself living here. I'd never feel as if it was mine. I'd always be afraid of breaking something and getting scolded for it."

"I understand, but are you willing to view the gardens before returning?" Sharptooth asked. With a toothy grin he explained, "I brought brooms. Dreadful hobby for a goblin to have, but needs must for one's account holder."

Harry, who loved flying, wasn't about to decline and so they spent another half hour circling above the estate and taking in its structure. The scandalized Tarok remained on the ground, instead inspecting the outside of the property with great interest.

"Earth not be very good for growing things," Dobby said from his perch behind Harry and pointed to the styled gardens. "Former owners be liking flowers, not food. They be changing earth to suit their needs. Be huge effort to change it back."

That was the death knell, and everybody knew it. But despite striking Connolly Hall from the list, the excursion still was a success as far as Harry was concerned. He and Dobby had experienced yet another lovely summer evening, and flying would always be a worthwhile pastime.

oOo

The next evening, Sharptooth presented Harry with a portkey, which was an actual large key, but, according to the goblin, portkeys could be made out of almost anything. His description of being tugged along at one's navel didn't exactly endear the thing to Harry, but he was willing to try.

"Unfortunately it is the only way to access the property right now," Sharptooth said. He kept his eyes on a golden watch. "You keeping your little paw on the key? You too, Tarok? Good. The owner was a bit paranoid about his security; he has a lot of useless relatives who tried to rob him blind as he got older. Now he's decided to sell and throw away his money on a beach somewhere."

"Sounds goo-oooooood!" Harry screamed as something suddenly hooked behind his navel and pulled him off his feet and away. "I don't like thiiiiiis!" he wailed.

"You think I do?" Sharptooth cried. "Blasted things, portkeys!"

The vortex spat them out several disorienting seconds later. Harry, who absolutely loved fast rides, found that he hated travelling this way with a fiery passion and decided to never do it again if he could help it.

"Dobby can pop me back!" he declared once he'd picked himself up from the ground. "Bloody hell, never again."

"Dobby will," Dobby said as he popped up next to Harry.

"Would he mind taking me as well?" Sharptooth groaned.

Tarok didn't even try to talk, he just heaved silently and fought down the green tinge in his face.

At least the unpleasant trip was worth it. The secluded house looked beautiful from the outside, just like a large, very well kept English cottage. It was surrounded by a big, slightly overgrown garden where vegetables and flowers were making up a pleasing whole. Beyond the garden there was a large, perfectly groomed lawn. Harry guessed that there were at least a hundred yards of space in every direction. Everything was fenced off by huge oak trees and shimmering wards.

"It looks much nicer than in the pictures," Harry said, staring at the idyllic house in wonder. "I already feel guilty just standing here."

"Guilty?" Tarok inquired. He dabbed his mouth with a handkerchief.

"Dobby wants to plant lots of elf berries and for that he'd have to dig up the lawn." Harry took a good look around and marvelled at how peaceful the whole property was. "It really is awfully nice."

"Just wait until you see the inside of the house," Sharptooth said.

He led the others through the garden to the front door and unlocked it with the same large brass key. Magic sparked as he turned the handle and then they stepped into an airy, lightly decorated foyer that would make any country lover's heart leap.

Harry noticed at once that the inside of the house seemed larger than the outside suggested, which was a very pleasant surprise.

Sharptooth showed them the living room first. It had a whole wall dedicated to bookshelves, all full, and another to the garden. In fact, where there was supposed to be a wall, a huge windowpane offered a bewitching sight at the blooming plants and the vast, clear summer sky. A small terrace allowed for sitting outside and a fireplace in the middle of the bookshelves invited to long afternoons with a book and tea when the weather got bad.

"I might be in love already," Harry admitted a little later as Dobby cooed over the large, open country kitchen and the spacious pantry.

The three bathrooms also were a sight, two large ones with a full bath and one guest bathroom with a small shower, but Harry almost liked the master bedroom the best. It was on the top floor and, like the living room, had a full length window. The view of the garden and grounds was spectacular. There wasn't a desk in the current set-up, which made sense if one wanted to separate work and leisure.

The four guest rooms were very adequate as well and Harry could see himself entertaining his friends here.

"How much was this one again?" he asked when they'd explored the small attic, the cellar, and the large stillroom.

"A little over a million galleons," Sharptooth supplied. "The owner would have to strip his personal wards, however, and the implementation of a full set of goblin war wards complete with on-call security would cost around half a million galleons."

"But I could buy it if I wanted," Harry said. "What say you, Dobby? Do you like it?"

"It be great place for Harry Potter sir to rest and heal," Dobby agreed. "Everything be in very good order. There not be much work to do for Dobby, but Dobby knows how to keep busy."

"Could you plant your berries here?" Harry asked. "Because if you can't, it's no good. I promised."

"Dobby could add a few more bushes along the border, as earth be good enough, but it be ugly to do more. Pretty lawn be very good for running and games."

"I understand." Harry scrunched up his face in thought. "Can I make a reservation? Maybe I should sleep on it before deciding."

Sharptooth nodded. "Absolutely. It's a lot of money, after all, and you'll want to be happy with your very first own house. There are two more properties to see, in any case, and Gringotts is prepared to let you have first pick."

"Awesome, thanks!" Again Harry turned and took in his surroundings. "Now we just have to get back to Privet Drive ..."

The goblins first groaned and then cheered when Dobby offered to take them back - for a galleon each.

oOo

On the next day, Sharptooth had a hard time talking Harry into using another portkey. His offer to bribe Dobby with another two galleons for taking him and Tarok back was well received, however, and Harry reluctantly allowed the old boot cum portkey to stick its hook behind his navel, drag him through something that looked suspiciously like a wormhole, and slam him onto a soft patch of greenery.

Dobby appeared seconds later. His eyes were wide and his ears stood up and quivered with excitement.

"What is this place?" he squeaked.

"Gringotts has no idea," Sharptooth said, dusting off his suit. "It's been in the owner's family's possession for decades but nobody ever thought to do something with it. At one point the owner's grandfather wanted to build his bride a house, I believe, but it never happened."

"Why not? I mean, there's nothing here, but it's huge, easily several hectars. The whole family could have built houses here." Harry looked at the overgrown underbrush and out of control trees. Several of them looked suspiciously like whomping willows. "We're still in England, right?"

"We are," Sharptooth confirmed. He took out the brooms and let Harry fly a large circle along the border. "The property is almost five hectars large and will take very well to our wards as there is a large ley line running beneath it to power them. However, the ley line may also be the reason for the plant overgrowth and the owner's reluctance to develop the land." He pointed at several spots were a multitude of plants seemed to have arranged themselves into huge knots that not even a cutting curse would be able to sever. "Since the property is essentially wild land, the owner is willing to part with it for two million galleons flat, no questions asked."

"Hm, seems like an okay deal. I mean, it is huge. Dobby, could you work with this?" Harry asked the house elf. Slowly, he descended and touched down where they'd started. "It could be a huge garden just for you and your friends, and I guess you'd always have enough to do."

Dobby threw Harry an incredulous look. "This place be perfect, but to manage it and Harry Potter sir, Dobby definitely be needing help."

oOo

Late at night, Harry was lying in his newly rented bed and staring at the ceiling. Thoughts were going round and round in his head. In one moment everything seemed clear: he wanted to buy both properties and do something worthwile with it. In fact, he could buy both properties and he'd still have enough left over to give the basilisk's, or rather Tom Riddle's, victims their share. The remaining money would probably be a little tight to help Dobby with getting the garden up and running, though.

A voice remarkably like Uncle Vernon's immediately latched onto that thought and bellowed about the dumbness of it all. The part of him that never had anything good to himself screeched that the money would do him much more good in the bank where his wealth could grow even further.

Since that wouldn't benefit the goblins at all and wasn't what Harry wanted besides, Harry would shove the unpleasant voice away and try to reason with himself that there was one more property to see before he should make his choice.

But is that even necessary, considering both Dobby's and my feelings on both the cottage and the huge piece of land?, he wondered.

Remembering the pictures of a small hilltop mansion, Harry decided that no, he didn't need to see it, and returned to the initial argument, only to get discouraged by the thought of spending it all at once and thus starting the vicious cycle once more.

Now he understood why people wanted to sleep on something. This decision was hard!

"I could just take one," he murmured into the darkness. But the prospect of having to choose between his own needs and Dobby's wishes didn't make him happy either. At least I know what I don't want, he thought morosely. It helped, but only marginally.

The sky outisde the charmed bedroom window was already getting lighter as Harry finally fell into an exhausted slumber.

When he woke again the sun had long risen and he'd missed breakfast. Dobby waited on him with a tray, pampering him with fruit salad, scrambled eggs and baked beans. The two potions that came after tasted like sunshine and cherries and lifted his mood surprisingly well.

"Harry Potter sir not be sleeping well," Dobby said, wringing his little hands anxiously. "How can Dobby help?"

Harry sighed. "I don't know. I calculated the cost and found out that we'd only have around 300.000 galleons left if I buy both places. How can that be enough to hire help for you and buy things for the garden? The place is huge and you'd likely have to start over completely."

"It not be very easy," Dobby replied with conviction. "But Dobby be able to do it! Dobby be planting berries first and trading for favours, and Dobby also be able to trade work for more cuttings and seeds if he can't find them in the wild. Harry Potter sir not be needing all the gold for Dobby, Dobby promises."

"No, if I, we, do this, the gold is yours. You are the one doing all the work, taking care of me and stuff, it's only fair. I'm just afraid that it won't be enough for everything."

Dobby's eyes grew impossibly large and he trembled. "Does that mean ..."

Harry swallolwed. "If you think we can manage, if you're absolutely sure, then yes. I'll buy both the house and your garden." He took a deep breath at the declaration and blinked rapidly. "Wow. That feels surprisingly good!" He started to smile. "I'll buy the house and the garden, Dobby!"

Dobby began to cry in big, heaving sobs. He burrowed into Harry's arms and clutched him so tightly that Harry could feel his little heart hammering in his chest. His effusions of happiness were embarrassing and endearing at the same time, although the relief at having made such a momentous decision were making Harry's own eyes mist over as well.

"Hey there, it's okay," he soothed, stroking the elf's back. "We'll be fine. If we can't manage both, we'll find a solution. But we'll try!"

"W-we w-w-will," Dobby hiccoughed. "D-Dobby b-be doing everything f-for h-his Ha-Harry Potter sir!"

To make good on his promise, Harry immediately dashed off a note to Sharptooth and sent the ecstatic Dobby to deliver it. Even after Dobby was gone it felt good, right. Happiness made Harry literally float for a few moments - it was one of the best displays of accidental magic he'd ever suffered and he enjoyed every second of it. And to make this day absolutely perfect, Aunt Marge was finally going home!

Sharptooth's reply came just a quarter hour later. It was short and to the point: they'd be signing the contracts at seven o'clock in the evening and discuss the placing of the wards afterwards.

The rest of the day passed excruciatingly slowly. Aunt Petunia, already annoyed at Harry's absences and her third place in the garden competition, ordered him around like a slave in the wake of Marge's departure and tried to keep him working even after tea when the heat was so oppressive that an ambulance had to be called for Mrs. Burton, the elderly neighbour two houses down the road. The paramedic scolded Aunt Petunia thoroughly when he spotted Harry trudging around with his tools and even threatened to call child protection services when she wouldn't relent.

Having to spend the evening in his room behind locked doors wasn't exactly a hardship for Harry. He let Dobby pop him to Gringotts as soon as the clock struck seven and spent the whole walk from the customer hall to Sharptooth's office cheerily greeting unknown goblins who greeted him first.

Sharptooth was ready for him and asked Harry and Dobby to sit on the long settee as soon as the door closed behind them. He then joined them there and picked up the first of the four waiting contract folders.

"Welcome, Heir Potter. Gringotts is pleased to finish the transaction so soon. Shall we go over the contracts together?"

"Yes, please." Harry leaned forward eagerly.

"Then let's begin with the former Woberly Place. This contract states that the estate will come into Harry James Potter's possession in full, including the already established Gringotts wards, all furniture and kitchen utensils as well as the gardening tools. All previous claims by the owner or his family are hereby declared null and void. Not included in the price of purchase is the ministerial registration fee, land tax, and any other taxes going forward from the date of purchase."

"I didn't know that there would be taxes," Harry said worriedly. "How much will it be?"

Sharptooth hummed. "Not a lot for private residences, Heir Potter. Every landed estate in Magical Britain is taxed a hundred galleon land tax per annum, a sum you are certainly well able to afford."

"Oh, okay. Good. But it's something to keep in mind." Harry opened his backpack and pulled out a writing pad and a biro. As he wrote, he mumbled, "A hundred galleons per year for private residences ... what about my garden?"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Sharptooth answered. "Let's finish here first. We went over the matter of taxes, now there's ... ah. The price of purchase totals 1.112.564 galleons, plus the registration fee of 5000 galleons. The yearly land tax will be transferred for you on January first of each year, the partial sum owed for this year is to be paid immediately. As soon as you sign the contract, the deed will be drawn up and placed in your new vault. You'll get a copy to take home, of course."

"Er." Expectantly, Harry looked at his account manager. "Is that it? Aren't there more clauses? Like what I'm allowed to do with the garden and stuff? The muggles have clauses for everything, at least the deed to my relatives' house does."

Sharptooth's bemused face cleared as he understood Harry's concern. "Ah, no, buying in full means that the land and house are yours to do with as you please. There are no restrictions whatsoever. You could tear the house down. You could build two other houses next to the already existing one. You could even dig the whole place up and make another garden out of it if you wanted. Your property, your choice."

Harry beamed. "It's a good thing I like it just as it is, then."

"Indeed. Are you ready to sign? It's been many years since I did my first contract signing, but I find myself to be ... excited."

"I'm very excited," Harry confided, picking up the blood quill, "but mostly I'm happy for Dobby and me." Then he grinned and scrawled his full name on the line. "Done!"

The contract glowed, vibrated - and dublicated. The copy floated to Harry's side of the table while the original was snatched up by Sharptooth.

Next came the contract about the warding of Harry's new place. His new place! He became giddy just thinking it!

"As there are goblin wards already in place that we only have to update and taylor to you, and as you are a Friend To The Nation, the initial price of half a million galleons has dropped by half, curtesy of Chief Ragnok. Let me explain the warding service to you, youngling: your estate will be unplottable, meaning that it can't be found - by scrying or tracking devices, both stationary and placed on you. Once you enter the property, your trail goes cold and can't be restored. Then there are the anti-apparition wards. They're a standard feature, the force of which will be determined by you. I recommend the standard setting: mild non-lethal deplacement, heavy non-lethal deplacement, and for a third offence, lethal repelment."

"Uh, is that necessary?" Harry asked. "Seems a bit over the top."

"Yeah? So you don't want the Dark Lord's followers to take a hike on the antarctic continent?" Sharptooth smirked. "In case you're worried, each instance will be an unmistakable warning for the offender. It's not like they'll be landing softly in a field of daisies and feel like you invited them to play games."

"But what of my friends? I don't want them to die if they're dumb enough to try again ... once they can apparate, that is."

"May I offer some advice?" Sharptooth asked. At Harry's nod, he said, "Don't tell them. Enjoy it first by yourself. Get used to having all this space and feeling safe. Giving the secret away to a bunch of teenagers is not you staying safe. Children talk, they boast to their friends, and when they get angry they spill the beans were they have no business of being spilled. Sharing your good fortune is an admirable trait, but in this instance it won't serve you well. Trust me on this."

Harry was taken aback. "I've never thought of that."

"You never had nice things to yourself either," Sharptooth said baldly. "Get used to it in peace. Take the time to be proud of it and enjoy it as much as you can before you allow others to trample all over it and force their opinions on you. Because people will have opinions, first of all your headmaster. He may be your guardian by proxy but that doesn't mean that he can dictate your whole life for you."

Harry grimaced. "I understand. Standard anti-apparition wards. What else?"

Sharptooth exhaled. "We will erect a mail redirection ward back to Gringotts to keep your location secret from post owls. An intent-based protection ward that will keep out Death Eaters, dark creatures, reporters, snoops and everybody and everything else with the least amount of unhealthy interest in you. Included in the price is also a notification ward. Whenever there is an attempted breach, Gringotts will send a squad of security guards to investigate. Their primary job will be to get you to safety if the need arises, so please don't make their job harder by trying to fight off intruders by yourself."

Harry could only nod dumbly.

"Very well. If you're satisfied, please sign here and here. I'll schedule a team of warders. This will take a day and you'll need to be present to we can key you into the wards and lock everything down."

"I'm always free, just let me know when you're ready," Harry tried to joke. Suddenly it all seemed a bit overwhelming. He had actually bought a house! A house he and Dobby could live in!

Sharptooth gave him a moment and called for refreshments. Eating a scone with clotted cream and elf berry marmalade did a lot for Harry's composure, as did Dobby's cold lemonade. Soon he was back on an even keel and eager to do it all again, this time to sign the contracts for Dobby's garden.

Again, the contract in itself was rather short and to the point. Sharptooth explained that there would be higher taxes if Harry ever decided to sell things that had grown on his land. Harry hadn't even thought of that but memorized the information and vowed to himself to read more about it. The real kicker was the contract for the ward placement and Harry leaned forward eagerly so he wouldn't miss a word of his accoung manager's explanations.

"I realize that the placing of wards on this property seems exorbitantly high," Sharptooth admitted. "A million galleons is nothing to sneeze at, and everybody who's telling you differently is surely a liar. To put the cost in perspective: the average wizarding family gets by just fine with fifty thousand galleons a year."

"Only fifty thousand!" Harry felt faint for a moment. "Oh god, I'm a rotten spendthrift!"

"Don't be silly, you merely have an eye for quality, a trait you share with all of your ancestors," Sharptooth replied, unconcerned. "Now, the first portion of money is going to be invested in the laying of the warding stones, as the property has none. They are the very necessary foundation of the warding matrix - the anchor points to which the warders will attach their magic. As you're a high profile client for obvious reasons, Ragnok decided that only the hardiest, best material will suffice, hence the high price."

"I guess he's right," Harry agreed and shrugged. "What's the material?"

"It's a rock magical races have always called Malijar's Gift."

"Isn't he the Lord of Magic?" Harry asked. "He was mentioned in the book about ritual magic."

"Yes, he is."

"Does he really exist? Nobody ever said anything about him at Hogwarts."

"I imagine not," Sharptooth replied. "Now, religion doesn't seem like an issue in the magical world, mainly because very few people still practice the old arts and muggle holidays have slowly been replacing the more traditional wizarding holidays. But there are quite a few families out there who're certainly devout, and practicing ritual magic might influence you in that direction. After all, it is hard to deny the existence of a deity when one is confronted with the pureness and beauty of magic in ritual. Nothing compares, youngling, so be careful with yourself."

"Okay."

"But back to the ward stones: Malijar's Gift is the hardest, most durable rock on earth, only in part due to the mithril running through it in fine veins." Sharptooth opened a table drawer and took out a small, hematit-coloured rock that had shimmering and glistening silvery veins running through it. "Here it is. You may hold it, if you want."

Harry accepted the small stone and started at the brush of magic against his sense of self. "I can feel it!"

"It's highly magical," Sharptooth said, "and so very useful to us, hence its name. Always treat it with respect and magic will treat you likewise."

"It's fantastic." Harry handed the stone to Dobby who sat up straight and even raised his ears to their highest point. The sight made him grin. "Could I buy one of these? I've got a friend who'd love to see it."

"Yes, certainly. A rock of this size goes at a price of three to four hundred galleons. Sleep on it and if you still want one a week from now, I'll arrange the sale." Before Harry could rail against being told what to do, Sharptooth added, "Do not be angry at me for tempering your impulses, youngling. I understand perfectly well your desire to purchase things that please you, and which you enjoy. However, as your steward it is my duty to teach you how to spend your money responsibly. That being said, I'm not saying no. I'm saying think about it and find out for yourself whether the price is worth the value of your planned acquisition."

Harry deflated a little. "I guess you're right. I'm sorry, sir."

"You've got nothing to be sorry for," Sharptooth stated evenly. "It is your money and I won't attempt to keep you from spending it as you please. All I ask for as your steward is that you give yourself a little time to think things over."

"I can do that!" Harry replied with conviction. He took the stone back from Dobby and revelled in the touch of magic against his own once more. "I'll give it a week. But," he smiled crookedly, "I don't think I'll change my mind."

Sharptooth rewarded him with a satisfied not. "Good. After the laying of the warding stones, the warders will build the matrix. Each warding matrix is taylored to the land they're supposed to protect, so it takes time and effort to calculate its make-up. The building is magically expensive, so that's the third large item on the bill. Next is the weaving of the actual wards. Making the land unplottable comes first, then the anti-apparition wards and last the intent-based wards. Will you take Arithmancy next year?"

"Yes, and Runes."

"Very good. Then you'll learn why it is done in this order. But do you care to take a guess? Just for fun."

Harry pondered the question for a moment. "Uhm, because we likely won't change the the first two wards? I mean, I'll probably always want to keep the garden unplottable, and I also probably don't want to have people appear willy-nilly in there. But I could change what I think about people, or what I consider dangerous or undesirable. The intent wards are kind of the top layer? They'd be easiest to reach to work with like that."

"Mostly correct, and well reasoned." Sharptooth took an empty piece of parchment and a quill and drew a circle. "For the sake of this discussion, imagine this is your garden. The ward stones would be placed here, here, here, here ..." He dotted the circle until it looked like a pearl necklace. "Then comes the building of the matrix. Imagine it like a loose structure, a little like a woven basket." Again he used the quill and drew straight lines in the circle, turning the parchment by ninety degrees and repeating that action until the circle was filled with quadrants. "Now we're making it unplottable ..." Suddenly the ink changed its colour from black to bright blue as Sharptooth drew many more lines next to the black ones, until the circle looked like a loosely woven piece of fabric. "And now the anti-apparition wards." Again the ink changed its colour, this time to a light green. Instead of drawing parallel to the existing lines, Sharptooth turned the parchment again by forty-five degrees before drawing the narrow lines and then crossing them orthogonally. "And at last the intent-based wards. Can you guess?"

Harry hesitated, but since this wasn't school and he liked knowing what would happen with his garden, he took the quill from Sharptooth and tapped the nib into the circle. A transparent pink hue bled out until it covered everything inside the circle. "Like this?"

"Excellent!" Sharptooth praised. "As I said, your theory is mostly correct. I say mostly because while the intent-based wards certainly are the top layer, they're also the glue that helps stabilize the lower levels of warding, making changing them not as easy as you might think. They'll depend on the other wards and interact with them dynamically once the whole set is implemented. Imagine building a house: you start with the big parts, like the fencing, the groundwork, the bricks for the wall. It's all offering a kind of protection, but what'll really keep the elements and intruders from finding weak spots is the finishing work. The mortar, the putty, the hedges around the property, and the alarm system you install. It all works together, and while you can certainly leave some parts out, you'll have the best results with every one of them in place."

The explanation was very descriptive and Harry saw no reason at all to protest the high cost when Sharptooth laid out the contract before him, not that he would have wanted to in the first place. He knew the value of hard work, having done enough of that himself during the years and also witnessing Hermione's incredible work ethic.

"As with your other property, all the warders will be obliviated afterwards and Gringotts as a Nation will make a vow to keep the location secret. As I'm your steward, the purchase and warding of your new estates will most probably go through the registration process without a hitch as Dumbledore hasn't restricted my ability to work with the Potter fortune. The acquisition of more land won't make him suspicious, even if he knows that Gringotts will have bought the basilisk from you. He'll think the money beyond your reach, and I can only repeat myself: it is best that this remains to be so."

"But what about the money I'm giving to my school mates?" Harry asked.

"Since it's essentially charity, I can't see him protest too loudly, as it would be harmful to his image. While 10.000 galleons per student is a lot of money for the individual witch or wizard, in the grand scheme of things it's just not worth the hassle. And speaking of those particular transactions, we can finalize the details right now, if you'd like. The contract is the same for every student, except the two Weasley children. The ones for Sir Nicholas de Mimsey-Porpington, Fawkes and Mrs. Norris are slightly different, but going over them won't take too much time."

"Yeah, alright. I'm glad to get this underway." Harry shifted a little. "Uh, but may I please get up and move around a little. All this sitting is hurting my ..." He indicated his butt that was admittedly becoming a bit numb.

Sharptooth chortled. "By all means, Heir Potter. Move to your heart's content and eat another scone if it pleases you! Our Gringotts elves have outdone themselves to accomodate your nutritional needs. Your Dobby was quite jealous when he learned this."

Harry grinned at the pouting elf. "There's no need to be jelous, Dobby. You'll always be the boss."

Dobby brightened immediately and bounced up. "Dobby and Harry Potter sir can play tag!" As he said it, he tapped Harry and popped away, reappearing near the door of Sharptooth's office.

Harry scrambled up and ran after him, giggling madly and lunging after Dobby when he got close. A fast game of tag development which quickly took on qualities of gnome chucking because Dobby squealed in excitement when Harry grabbed him and egged the boy on to throw him as hard as he could. Caught up in the game, Harry did so and watched in amazement as Dobby sailed through the air and only popped to safety when a crash seemed imminent.

"You're crazy!" he laughed and ran from the elf.

"You be crazy also once Dobby has taught you how to pop!" Dobby called, jumped and tapped Harry on the head. "You be it!"

Sharptooth let them play for fifteen minutes, after which both Harry and Dobby trotted back to the seating area and ate their snacks with big grins on their faces.

The transfer of funds to Penelope Clearwater, Colin Creevey, Justin Finch-Fletchley and Hermione truly was easy enough. After reading and confirming the conditions of the contract, Harry just checked that they were the same for each of them before signing. Ginny Weasley had been a more difficult case after Harry had had some time and advice from Sharptooth. While it was true that she had suffered the most at Tom Riddle's hand, she had also failed to ask for help while she still could. Harry had compromised with Sharptooth and settled five thousand galleons on her, with the stipulation that it be spent on healers both for the mind and body. Another five thousand galleons would go to Ron, who'd tried to rescue her. Whatever would be left of the money after her treatment, Ginny would be able to access once she reached her majority, the same as every other student.

The contract for Nearly Headless Nick had only one stipulation: after thinking about it for a bit, it had been important to Harry to give the ghost the right to either accept the money for himself or transfer it to Hogwarts.

"He could have living descendants," Harry had argued, "and Nick might want to give the money to them."

Fawkes got his share outright, with the express clause in the settlement that Dumbledore was not to have any say in the matter. And Mrs. Norris, at last, was assigned her galleons with the stipulation that Filch take care of her and himself to the best of his ability.

"That was good work, Heir Potter," Sharptooth said once the last signature was placed. "Your hand will stop smarting soon, don't worry. If you discover a scar tomorrow, send your elf at once and Healer Spleenbash will heal it for you. A blood quill should never leave marks, and if it does, seek help immediately. It's a class 5 dark object for a reason."

"Thanks." Harry stood and stretched. "What time is it?"

"It's way past your bedtime, so get yourself home, eat something disgustingly healthy and sleep well. I'll be in contact as soon as I know the warding schedule. Oh, and please read this pamphlet. You'll need to do your part in claiming the wards and I don't want you to be unprepared."

Harry bowed, thanked the goblin again and deftly used the fireplace in the antechamber next to Sharptooth's office to Floo home.

oOo

Monday warmed up to be the hottest day of the year so far and Harry decided to spend the morning indoors. After breakfast, Dobby surprised him with a large, empty notebook.

"It be a journal for Harry Potter sir," the elf explained shyly. "There be a lot of things happening and Dobby felt that Harry Potter sir might want to write it down."

Harry turned the leather-bound book over and admired the beautiful craftsmanship. "Thank you, it looks great. But, where should I even start?"

"There be unlimited pages, so Harry Potter sir can start wherever he likes!" Dobby let the ink bottle and a muggle calligraphy pen hover towards Harry. "Dobby would be honoured to protect Harry Potter sir's history."

"My history, huh?" Harry smiled. "Alright, why not?" He opened the book at the first page, dipped the pen into the ink and thought for a moment before he started to write.

Only an hour later he regretfully put the pen down and prepared himself or a long day on his new property. Dobby assisted him by laying out fresh, appropriate clothes and preparing a picnic basket with food.

At ten o'clock on the dot, Sharptooth arrived via the Floo and immediately cocked his head to listen to Uncle Vernon's shouting.

"Is that one of the Muggles you need to get away from?" he asked.

"Er, yeah." Harry flushed with embarrassment. "They don't much like not having their servant around."

"Well, that won't do. Your elf will put up a silencing charm, I'm sure. How can anyone be expected to relax with that ruckus going on?" Sharptooth's eyes glittered with humour and malice. "But nevermind the muggles, we have more important things to do today. Come, youngling. Let's brave the dreaded portkey one last time. After the warding is complete, you'll be able to Floo to your house like a normal, sane person, or have your elf bring you."

"I can't wait," Harry said with feeling.

He and Sharptooth gritted their teeth, activated the portkey and endured the unpleasant ride with as much grace as possible, which, sadly, wasn't a lot.

As before, Dobby popped up next to Harry a scant few seconds later.

"How are you even doing that?" Harry complained. "Why couldn't Dobby take us in the first place, sir?"

"Because the property is unplottable, even for house elves," Sharptooth explained. He breathed deeply and obviously fought his nausea down. "However, once you were here, he was able to find you. It might interest you that there are no wards that can keep a house elf away, only other house elves can accomplish that. And as to popping out of the property: the owner didn't have it warded against getting out, in case he needed to vanish quickly. We should talk about it later, see what you think best."

"Give me a couple of minutes, sir," Harry sighed. "I need to put my stomach back in its proper place first."

Despite their groaning, Harry's curiosity soon drove him on. They entered the house and went straight into the cellar. Harry had only glimpsed it during the tour, but contrary to the last time, the ward stone was now alight and pulsing with magic.

"Welcome to your new home, Heir Potter," a portly goblin in dark green robes greeted. "Welcome to you, too, Steward Sharptooth. I am Head Warder Gartok. We can begin immediately with the claiming of the wards."

"Are you ready?" Sharptooth asked Harry. "I realize that the information package might have been a little thin on the details. If you need a moment ..."

"I've signed so many contracts with blood that I'll survive this easily," Harry joked. "Don't worry, sir. I've read the instructions and if I need help, you'll be there."

"Good, good," Gartok said, clapping his hands. "Come to the ward stone, Heir Potter. Feel its magic, its composition. Take your time, these things cannot be rushed."

Harry obeyed and let his hand hover over the glowing stone. The magic was warm and welcoming. He fell into the feeling and began scouting out it's make-up. "It feels ... open," he said cautiously. "And there are lines going away from it." He pushed deeper and felt a flare of heat in his chest. "There are seven times seven wardstones tied to the master stone. It's like a net ... it vibrates."

"It's waiting for you," Gartok said quietly. "Commune with it, tell it that you're the new owner. We already fed it your magical signature, but it needs more to seal the new configuration. Push as much magic into the stone as you comfortably can. Once it's got enough, you'll be accepted as the sole owner of the wards. You will feel it in your core, so don't startle."

Nodding, Harry reached out for Dobby and relaxed when he could feel the small hand in his. "We do this together, Dobby. Can you feel them?"

Dobby's breath hitched. "Dobby can."

"Then let's say hello." Smiling, Harry felt Dobby's essence with him as they both explored the energy of the ward stone and greeted each extension with a push of magic. It wasn't hard at all for Harry; he felt that his happiness could have probably powered half of Surrey for a week.

As he played with the lovely magic of the ward stone, he felt its configuration change. It danced around him, feeling along all of his metaphysical nooks and crannies. A bit rough at first, it soon became smooth and warm, kind of like slightly slick water, cradling and bathing him in its protection until he couldn't determine where he ended and the ward stone began.

"What a nice blending," Gartok praised. "Well done, Heir Potter. What a unique idea to let your house elf participate!"

"It's his house, too," Harry grinned and Dobby grinned back so brightly that he looked years younger. "I'm sorry, but I don't have an athame for the next part."

"Allow me," Sharptooth said before Gartok could answer. "There has been an athame in my family that hasn't been claimed for several generations. It would please me if you'd accept it as a gift. A first home is always special and there can hardly be a more rewarding moment than taking up ownership."

Harry was touched. "Thank you, sir. I'll gladly use it."

Carefully, Sharptooth took the athame out of its little case and handed it over. "May it always be sharp and aid you in your craft."

"So mote it be," Harry returned softly. He turned back to the ward stone, raised his right hand over the stone and said, "With this offering of blood, given of my own free will, I claim this house. With this offering, I claim these wards as my own." With the athame in his left hand, he cut his right palm and laid it on the stone. Magic heaved up around them and the stone glowed even brighter. A not so subtle nudge urged Harry on and he added, "May this property be known as Potter's Cottage from this day forward."

For a moment, there was a sharp pain. It started in Harry's hand, rushed through his arm, then his whole body, and finally it burst through his feet into the ground.

Then, the cellar went dark.

"That went exceedingly well," Gartok exclaimed. He snapped his fingers and the sconces on the walls lit up. "It feels very much like you now, Heir Potter. What a happy day!"

Harry grinned, even as he rubbed his already healed hand. "Thank you. I'm truly very happy."

"Dobby be feeling it, too," Dobby said in wonder. "It be Dobby's home!"

"Of course it is. And you get first pick of the cupboards," Harry said with a broad smile. "Man, I can't believe it." His whole body hummed with satisfaction and contentment. And already he could somehow feel the going-ons on his property: the number of goblins walking around the lawn, the amount and even the kind of magic being done by them. It was astounding. "Someone in your team is in a very bad temper, Master Gartuk," he said without thinking.

Gartuk startled a little. "Er, yes. That would be my wife, Heir Potter. She and I had to resort to stone, parchment, claw to haggle out who would have the privilege of witnessing your claiming of the ward stone. She lost."

"I'm sorry," Harry said, eyes wide and worried.

"Oh, don't be. She'll have the privilege for your other property. It's unquestionably more difficult and will be quite prestigious for her." Gartuk straightened up. "Now, as this is your first home, I should mention that it will do you and your wards good if you commune regularly with them. Just do what you did just now. Feel them, let them adjust to you as you grow as a wizard. Many owners are neglectful and never enjoy the full breadth of their wards' abilities."

"I'll remember, and if I don't, I'll have Dobby remind me," Harry promised.

"Good, good. Then we'll head out, meet the team and get the fine-tuning underway. It'll take time, but it'll be worth it. After tea, you can choose the locations for the anti-apparition deplacement, Heir Potter. Wizards always have the most fun with that."

"Dobby be having fun with that, too," Dobby declared. "Dobby be voting for Mongolia."

"Who knew you were such a vicious thing?" Harry asked with a grin.

"Harry Potter sir be forgetting that Dobby be former Malfoy house elf. Dobby be renouncing the family, but Dobby not be forgetting useful teachings."

"He's a house elf after my own heart," Sharptooth told Gartuk and both goblins smirked scarily.

Harry decided not to think too much about that. Instead, he led the entourage out of his - his! - house, followed the garden path away from the cottage and onto the vast lawn. There, by the tree line, a dozen goblins were already working, digging around in the ground.

"Heir Potter! May you always enjoy wealth and happiness," a female goblin growled while balefully glaring at Gartuk.

"You as well," Harry returned. His obvious bid at defusing the tension between Gartuk and his wife, because who else could this be, made the other goblins laugh gutturally. "May I please learn your name?"

"I am Shanoo, Gringotts' second head warder," she said with raised chin. "It'll be my great honour to instruct you in the fine art of warding soon."

"I'm looking forward to it," Harry admitted. "Sharptooth showed me a small piece of Malijar's Gift and I can't wait to see what it does as a ward stone."

"Then those days will be a gift to us both." Shanoo inclined her head. "For today the work is less exciting. Since the goblin war ward matrix is already established and you claimed your wards quite beautifully, all that remains for you to do is giving the ward stones around your property their final purpose. It's a bit time consuming since there are seven times seven stones to touch, but I'm confident that we'll be finished in a few hours."

What followed could only be described as a peculiar game of tag. The goblins lined up along the border, each of them with a glowing piece of rock in their hands. Harry went to touch and smear a drop of blood onto all of them, reciting a short spell in latin. Once he was done with a stone, the goblin would put it back in the ground and run to get ahead of the line. It was exhausting work and for the first time Harry really, truly appreciated how diffifult it would be to claim his huge, overgrown garden. With no wards even in existence, they might be at it for days and days!

They paused once for lunch and again after the last stone had been touched and put back. Another short commune with the ward stone in the house showed Harry that the wards had already changed again and grown much stronger. Back on the lawn again, Harry fascinatedly watched the goblins chant in their own language. Their magic made the wards light up like an aurora borealis in the clear afternoon sky and then, suddenly, something snapped into place inside of Harry. A feeling of endless security flooded him from his toes up to his head. It surged like a needy child, streamed from his fingers and eyes and mouth and embraced him so neatly and lovingly that it was hard to breathe for a moment.

"I gather it worked," Sharptooth commented with some sympathy. "How are you feeling, youngling?"

"I'm fine," Harry whispered. "Really fine." He looked at his account manager with wide eyes. "I didn't know magic could feel like this!"

"And there's so much more you don't know yet." Sharptooth put his clawed hand on Harry's narrow shoulder. "Congratulations. Now all you have to do is choose the destinations for your anti-apparition ward and do a last communion with your ward stone for the intent-based wards. Both will be done quickly, I'm sure, and then you can spend your first night here in your new haven."

"Is it silly that I didn't even think about staying here tonight?" Harry swallowed. "Kind of stupid to buy a house and not use it."

"It's understandable. It came about rather sudden and you need to get used to owning things. I'm aware that Healer Spleenbash wants you to meet with a mind healer, but she agreed that this had to come first. It's not off the table, however. If you can spare a moment, I'd like you to think about the kind of person you'd feel comfortable telling about your life. It doesn't matter whether you think your requirements seem unreasonable. You need to be able to trust that person and that's all we need to know."

Harry felt uncomfortably put on the spot. "Uhm, have you done something like that?"

Sharptooth nodded. "Yes, when the leader of a cadet branch of my clan decided that he would like to force my grand-daughter to bond with him to establish his place in my family, rather than wait for his turn at succession as the law dictates. It's rare, you see, for goblins to revolt among themselves. My Hortha resisted the bond and injured the traitor mortally. His followers wouldn't let that stand and killed her. When my family retaliated, it was a carnage. I needed the mind healing desperately as I couldn't function both as clan leader and account manager."

"I'm sorry, sir," Harry said quietly.

"It's been many years and I've learned to deal with it. So don't think that seeing someone to talk about your problems makes you weak. To the contrary, confronting that which burdens you will make you stronger."

"Healer Spleenbash said that she has files on Gringotts' mind healers. Maybe Dobby can bring them and I'll look them over tomorrow."

"Good," Sharptooth said. "For now, just finish up here and enjoy a quiet evening."

And that was exactly what Harry did.

---

End of part 2