I own nothing. Least of all this.

1:42

"STUPID!"

*THUNK*

"FORKING!"

*THUNK*

"WIZARDS!"

*THUNK*

"STUPID!"

*THUNK*

"FORKING!"

*THUNK*

"TIME!"

*THUNK*

"TRAVEL!"

*THUNK*

"STUPID!"

*THUNK*

"FORKING!"

*THUNK*

*CHARACTERS!"

For the life of me, I still couldn't figure it out. Goblins never made mistakes; I knew that much. Everything on that document had been one hundred percent true. Exactly how most of it was true, I had only the faintest of ideas.

I had followed Ripclaw out of the room in a daze. When he said I was expected, what he apparently meant was "There has been a secure meeting scheduled for this exact time for centuries, with your name down as one of the participating parties. Oh, and you're seven seconds late."

Forking Goblins.

Still, I had apparently done something important enough in the past (my future) to earn the title "Goblin Friend". Whatever that meant. One more bit of information I needed to buy every single book I could find about. Because it would definitely be in my best interests to keep things on said friendly basis.

Would I have to return the Sword of Gryffindor? It was Goblin-made. Did my status as "Friend" negate that? I simply didn't know. And I hated not knowing.

At least one thing was perfectly clear to me; how I had ended up magically related to some of the most powerful citizens of Storybrooke. The magic I now possessed had originally been a product of Snow and Charming's 'true love', for whatever that was worth. It had then been spliced with artron energy using the curse-slash-diamond created by Regina. And both that curse, and that magic had been given form by the Dark One, a.k.a. Rumpelstiltskin. One explosion later, instant magical adoption by four people. As if the relations in Storybrooke weren't bollocksed up enough. I was gonna need a bigger flowchart. At least there was some small mercy in the fact I was still only second in line. Henry still had the right of way, thank Gallifrey.

It was the rest of the titles that had me properly and down-right concerned. Ravenclaw's line had died out; how on Gallifrey had I been able to marry into it? Slytherin had been dead for centuries, him and his descendants. Moldy-shorts was the only one left, as far as I knew. And as far as Right of Conquest went, Harry Potter had more claim to the title Lord Slytherin than I did.

The name Howlfang wasn't terrible, as wizarding names went. Apparently, I had kept the sense to stick to the alliterative first-letter naming convention in order to blend in. But how the kriff was the name considered "Most Ancient?" Was it because I had already been centuries old (a terrifying thought) when I founded the House? Or was it because of my still shaky ties to two other Most Ancient Houses? If so, where did the "Noble" designation come from? Neither Slytherin nor Ravenclaw was noble, in any sense of the word.

The only possible explanation my mind was conjuring was a secret elopement and marriage to Helena Ravenclaw, the discovery of her murder by the Bloody Baron, and then the revenge of myself upon the Slytherin line. Far-fetched, at best. But if I was rich, a.k.a. "Noble", and the Baron was not, he could quite possibly have resented me enough to act. If that was indeed what had happened, then where was Ravenclaw's Diadem?

Worry about that later. This first, Horcruxes later. I had earned the title "Unbroken" a long time ago; how had it been transferred here? I carried a blade, true enough, but it wasn't mine. And I certainly wasn't an expert with it. The White Wolf was definitely me, no question about it. But the thing was, it was already literally in my name. Why had "The Witcher" been listed as a separate title? And finally, who the kriff was the "Gentle Queen?" You'd think if I was actually related to any royalty by blood, I would have found out about it by now. But obviously not.

So many questions. Not enough answers.

My head hit the table one last time.

*THUNK*

"GAH!"

"Is that wooden sound you or the desk?"

Not the voice I associated with that turn of phrase, but…

"How long have you been standing there?"

"Longer than you would like."

Word for word perfect.

"Sooooo, I can assume we've met before, judging by how the only way you could have ever learned that bit was if I told it to you."

The voice continued behind me, moving to the right side of the table as it did so. "Don't you know by now, Witcher? Never assume anything. You're off the edge of the map, mate. Here there be…" the face that belonged to the voice came into view, "…monsters."

I stared. "…. Pamela Barnes?!"

"Fraid not, sunshine. Although I am flattered. Name's Flamel. Perenelle Flamel."

I stared some more. "…Figures future me would become friends with an immortal alchemist."

"At your service. Literally. I'm here at your request."

"Prove it."

*DING! *

"Does that do the job, sunshine?"

Coin. Green. Jade. Gambit. Hive.

"You said there was a word that went with it: Stick. Makes sense to you, I suspect."

The Doctor's words echoed through my head. "…Let's go and poke it with a stick..."

I cleared my throat, and swept the coin into the pocket of my coat. "You could say that. I assume I'm about to kick the hornet's nest, then?"

"Yes, only you're no girl with a dragon tattoo. Now, we've got about three minutes before Chairman Bonesplicer of the Goblin Nation and your Account Manager both come through that door. So, Jerry, even though you've got a lot on your plate, I'm gonna need you to listen very carefully, and repeat exactly and only what I say. To begin, 'Greetings, Chairman Ragnok.'"

"Ragnok?"

"Yes, Ragnok. Shut up. 'Greetings, Chairman Ragnok. May the blood of your enemies fall from your blade. May the gold of your enemies fill your vaults. May the eyes of your enemy be blinded by your plans. May the…"

This went on for quite a while.

"…And finally, may the feet of your enemies tread upon the spikes of your traps. Now, got all that?"

"…Yes."

"Wait, for real? Seriously? Wow. I don't know whether to respect you or die laughing. I just made every word of that up."

"…You wot mate."

"Yep, totally made up. You don't greet the Chairman of the Goblin Nation; the Chairman of the Goblin Nation greets you. Now, here's what you're actually gonna say…"

Just over a minute later, Ragnok Bonesplicer the Third, Chairman of the Goblin Nation, Head of Gringotts' Bank, Oh Hear His Name And Tremble Ugh Ugh, strode into the room.

Oh, and Ripclaw came in too.

But it was rather easy to overlook him, considering how he was dwarfed by the absolutely massive war-hammer the Chairman was carrying. Thing made Sauron's mace look like a paperweight.

It may or may not have cracked the floor when he dropped it and sat down.

"Greetings, Prince Howlfang. May the blood of your enemies fall from your blade."

"And may the gold of your enemies fill your vaults. What is your business with House Howlfang today, Chairman Ragnok?"

"It has come to our attention that, due to your status as a Lord of Time, the actions you have undertaken in the past of this world may be unknown to you. If you were anything but a Friend of the Goblin Nation, and personally vouched for by yet another Goblin-Friend…"

Perenelle inclined her head in acknowledgement.

"…It would be no concern of ours to educate you upon some of the more important aspects of your status. However, since it is in fact clearly our concern, we shall now do so. Ripclaw!"

"Yes, Chairman?"

"Do you have the rings?"

"Yes, Chairman."

"Proceed."

Ripclaw rose from his seat at the left side of the table, and slowly approached.

"Give me your left hand, human."

"Ripclaw!"

"Forgive me, Chairman. I meant no…disrespect."

Even I could see that of course he had.

"Give me your left hand, Blade Dancer."

So, Blade Dancer was my goblin title. Interesting.

I cautiously reached out, whereupon my hand was snatched and held fast.

"Hold still. This will hurt quite a bit."

Ripclaw's other hand came out of seemingly nowhere, holding a rather old looking box. On it, was a symbol I had seen far too many times before. Tainted with blood, sweat, death, and tears, or so the stories said. And now I was inclined to believe they were more than mere stories.

A white tree in full blossom, roots growing deep, in the center. Two wolves, one on each side of the tree, mouths open in a howl. All enclosed in a ring of fire.

The box swung open.

"The Lord's Ring of House Howlfang, bearing the Crest of House Howlfang. Dum Fit Scindam Vellere."

In my head I translated the quote: 'Rip and Tear Until It Is Done'. Funny. Future me was certainly doing all he could to make me trust him, especially with a motto like that.

I didn't trust him.

The ring slid on to my finger.

Ripclaw seemed disappointed I showed no outward signs of pain. It hurt, certainly, but pain was an old friend. When it had faded, I merely nodded at Ripclaw to continue.

He snarled, and pulled out a second box.

"The Lord's Ring of House Ravenclaw, bearing the Crest of House Ravenclaw. Wit Beyond Measure Is Man's Greatest Treasure."

The second ring caused a fair amount more pain than the first, which was to be expected, as my connection to the House was significantly weaker.

Third and final box. Third and final ring.

"The Lord's Ring of House Slytherin, bearing the Crest of House Slytherin. Si Vis Pacem Para Bellum."

Oh, it would have killed Salazar to know his house motto had been adopted by a Muggle firearm company.

And then the last ring slid on and it was killing me.

So much hate. Not towards me, oddly enough, but towards anything and everything Ravenclaw. Not surprising, considering the fate of their respective heirs. It probably would have hurt less if I had put Slytherin's ring on before Ravenclaw's. I suspected Ripclaw knew that, judging by the rather nasty smile on his face. What I had done to earn his ire, I didn't know, but I intended to find out.

"It is done, Chairman."

"Good. The Sun Breaker will now speak."

"As you wish, Chairman."

My mouth dropped open. Sun Breaker? There was no way on Gallifrey I hadn't had something to do with that. The future just kept getting more and more interesting.

"Prince Howlfang. You are now the Lord of two Most Ancient Houses, and one Most Ancient and Noble House. At the turn of the year, a new session of the Wizengamot will be called. You must either sit in attendance for the entirety of the session, not a possibility for reasons I will explain later, or you must have found proxies for the seats. You now have the most votes of any single member of the group. As Goblin Friend, you must use your power to act in a manner that will benefit the Goblins as well as yourself. Do you understand?"

How on Gallifrey had she gone from a Southern American accent to a posh aristocratic one? It sounded…wrong.

"Do you understand?"

I swallowed. "…Yes."

"Good. You will also be required by the Wizengamot to enter into at least two betrothals, one each for Slytherin and Ravenclaw. They have already seen those lines die out once, they will not tolerate it again. The Howlfang line is already taken care of."

…Rose was gonna kill me. Wait…what did she mean taken care of?

"You will have only a year to accomplish this…"

I was gonna be here for a YEAR?!

"…So you must move quickly. Our suggestion would be to seek out the Tonks family and the Greengrass family. One has no anti-goblin agenda, as well as a connection to the Light, and the other has both a healthy trade relationship with the goblins, and the ability to play nice with those of a Darker nature. Both would serve you well as both proxies and sources of betrothal. Do you understand?"

"…Yes."

"Good. I return the order of business to you, Chairman."

"Is there any further business House Howlfang wishes to discuss with the Goblin Nation?"

"…No Chairman."

"Are there any further matters the Blade Dancer feels require the attention of the Goblin Nation?"

"…Yes Chairman."

"Speak."

I ran over the words in my head, recalling exactly what Perenelle had said. "…If it pleases the Chairman, I will now draw the sword on my back to present to you."

"Do so."

Slowly, I reached up, and drew…

"The Sword of Gryffindor! Treachery, Chairman!"

"Silence!"

"But Chairman!"

"I said silence! Let him speak!"

I swallowed. "…Thank you, Chairman. I recovered this artifact only recently from my point of view, but from that of this world, it has been two hundred years. I apologize for the delay in returning this Goblin blade to its rightful owners. In recognition of this service, I ask that Gringotts pay heed to another piece of information I have acquired."

"Your honor in this matter is noted. Gringotts will attend to your words."

I looked at Perenelle, who merely nodded to proceed. "…It has come to my attention that the Cup of Hufflepuff, has been claimed by one Tom Marvolo Riddle Junior, and placed in the Vault of one Bellatrix Lestrange. Not only was his claim illegal, as the Cup was originally created by Rowena Ravenclaw as a gift for Helga Hufflepuff, he has defiled its original purpose by using it as a…Horcrux."

"Impossible! Such a thing…

"Ripclaw! You have tried the patience of the Nation for the last time! Your new position is hereby designated as…"

Ripclaw's eyes widened.

"…Teller."

"NOOOOOO!"

Oh snap.

"You are dismissed, Ripclaw."

"NO! Sir, I beg you!"

"I said you are dismissed, Ripclaw. Do not make me repeat the order."

Ripclaw seemed to collapse back into himself. "…As you wish, Chairman."

And with one last look of loathing in my direction, he left. Seriously, what had I ever done to him?

"Now. Blade Dancer. If what you say is true, then there has been a serious breach in Gringotts. Such an item as a…Horcrux, should never have been allowed into this bank. There are ways of telling if such a thing enters the territory of Gringotts. The only way it could have occurred, is if someone let it in. We shall investigate this matter thoroughly, Blade Dancer. And if the Cup is indeed retrieved from the Lestrange Vault, then it shall be restored to its rightful place…in that of Ravenclaw. If there is, as you claim, a taint on it, you shall have to deal with that yourself. Wizarding magic is forbidden to goblins; and wizarding magic you must use to cleanse it. If there are no further matters?"

"No Chairman."

"Then we have an accord. May the eyes of your enemies be blind to your snares."

I blinked. "…And may the feet of your enemies fall upon the spikes of your trap."

"Hmm. A new one. You continue to surprise us, Blade Dancer. Please, do not stop."

"I do my best, Chairman."


Griphook was looking at me with what only could be described as awe. Upon the realization I needed a new Account Manager, I had immediately granted him the job. After all, he was the only goblin I could say I knew. Even if he had betrayed the Golden Trio in the old timeline, it was only upon their perceived betrayal of him and the Goblin Nation as a whole. I couldn't really fault him for that.

But the look he was giving me was bordering on creepy.

I whispered to Perenelle as we walked. "You gonna let me in on exactly what I did to tick off Grumpy back there?"

"Don't you know? He hates change. The very fact you seem to be able to change the past from the future gave him a reason to dislike you, but then you went and did two things that were even worse."

"And those were?"

"You treated Griphook as his social better by greeting him, but not your Account Manager. Oh, and checking over a contract offered to you as a Goblin Friend is very bad form."

"So, normal chain of events for me, then?"

"You could say that. Ah! Here we are."

"…Please tell me I'm supposed to sit in the front of that cart."

"Now where would be the fun in that?"


One cart ride later…

"What did you mean when you said the Howlfang line was taken care of. I know you're a Flamel, but is it possible your maiden name may have been…"

"NO! No. Just, no. Flamel's been the name since the beginning. Nicholas is my brother, nothing else. As to the rest: Spoilers."

"Seriously?"

"You're better off finding out for yourself."

"That's what they all say. They're never right."

"Hey! Trust me on this!"

"…Fine. But don't think I won't forget. Also, WHY THE HELL DO I HAVE TO STAY HERE A YEAR?! I've got people waiting for me!"

"You know as well as I do Time moves faster here than it does in other worlds. A year here is no Time at all there. Oh, and you're taking over the position of Professor of History of Magic at Hogwarts."

"…I'm WHAT! I don't know jack-squat about the History of Magic!"

"Well, then it's a good thing you've got a month to learn it, isn't it?"

I shut my mouth.

"Well, here we are. The Ravenclaw Vault."

"Why not Howlfang first?"

"Because all the interesting stuff is in here. Go on; I'll just wait."

"You sure?"

"Positive. I'm not family, after all."

"…Who are you?"

"…I'm just passing through. After today, Nicholas and I are leaving this world for good."

Realization dawned. "…The Philosopher's Stone."

"Good for gold, not so much for eternal life. For me, let's just say it was a little like a certain accident involving a time machine, a sandwich, and two rubber bands. The Stone was just a good cover. And good bargaining power against the Ministry after the last Goblin Rebellion. Blighters were all too happy to give up control of the economy when we threatened to destroy the whole thing."

"…Thus, earning you the title Goblin Friend. Well played."

"Thanks. Now, are you going or not?"

I stopped dead at the vault door. Of course, there would be a riddle; this was Ravenclaw after all. I just wasn't expecting the riddle to be that.

What Is Your Name?

I knew what it this was supposed to be, of course.

"My name is the…Prince Hadrian Hamish Howlfang."

The text glimmered, then changed.

What Is Your Quest?

"My quest is to end Tom Marvolo Riddle, Junior."

What Is The Oldest Question In The Universe?

…I had to answer.

"…Doctor Who?"

The doors swung open with a finality I did not like.

I squared my shoulders, and strode forward.


"Hel-lo, Jerry Dear!"

Three hundred years old my foot. There was only one person I could think of with that voice, and of course she was named Rowena. How had I not seen it before?

It also explained where Perenelle had picked up on calling me Jerry, if she had met Rowena in all her years as an immortal.

"Now, I can guess, you're right properly confused about what's been going on. Not to worry. Rowena has it all in hand. The advice the Goblins gave you about the Tonks and the Greengrass's was spot on, or so you've told me. But what they failed to point out was the other side of the coin you will inevitably have to deal with. Best to make it on your own terms. The Malfoys, Miss Skeeter, and Dumbledore. Lucius, you can of course get invested as the Minister of Magic by getting rid of Fudge. That can easily be arranged with the exposure of the case of Sirius Black. Lucius will of course go along with this once he realizes two things; one, Draco is not Black's heir, and two, if they can do what they did to Sirius, what's to keep them from doing it to others?"

"Sneaky."

"No, dear. Snaky. You are a Slytherin now." Replied the portrait.

"How did you…never mind. Continue."

"How assertive, dear! I quite like it. Now, Miss Skeeter. A combination of blackmail and the occasional scoop should do quite nicely. But for Dum-Dum-Dore, you're going to need something truly huge. I should think the sealing of the Potter's wills and the placement of young Harry with those dreadful people would work, especially if you can make it happen after the revelation of Black's fate. Continue the theme of 'Look what the Ministry can do if you let them!', and you should be right as rain. Feed Skeeter the story of young Ariana and Grindelwald to seal the deal, if you like."

"…You know, I'd forgotten how much I liked you."

"Oh, Jerry dear, you do know how to say the nicest things! Now, the Howlfang vault. Only gold in there, I'm afraid. All of your important documents you stored in the Room of Requirement. Slytherin did the same with the Chamber of Secrets. And as for mine, I believe you know how to find my Diadem. That should do nicely. Oh, and one more thing: behind this portrait is a gem. I believe you'll recognize it when you see it, and know exactly what to do with it. After all, which is more believable, that magic disrupts electrics, or that ghosts do? Please settle the matter once and for all. And now, ta ta Jerry! Catch you on the Flip Side!"

The curtains on the painting closed, and they did not open. I reached around behind, and felt something hard. I grabbed, and pulled it out into the light.

Purple. A purple gem. One I knew for a fact had been used to great effect on ghosts before.

I was gonna pull off the greatest magic trick in the world with this.


"So, I take it you got whatcha needed?"

I smirked. "You could say that."

"Good. While you were waiting, Griphook came by. Here's your Gringotts' key, and a receipt for the transferal of your gold to the Howlfang Vault. Congratulations: you just broke through from Noble to Most Noble. Three more votes on the Wizengamot. Well done."

I took the offered key. "Exactly how does the Wizengamot work?"

"Simply. Each House gets a minimum of one vote. Ancient or Noble gets you three. Both, Most Ancient, or Most Noble gets you five. A combination of Most Ancient and Noble or of Ancient and Most Noble gets you seven. And Most Ancient and Most Noble gets you ten. Howlfang's been collecting interest for hundreds of years now, all you needed was the final push. If it was up to me, I'd concentrate on adding the rest of whatever I acquired to the others to bring the votes up even more."

"Got it. How many votes do Dumbledore and Malfoy have?"

"Malfoy gets one as a House, plus the five from sitting proxy for the Most Noble House of Black."

"Illegally."

"Yes. Dumble-dork gets one for a House, one as Chief Warlock, and five as sitting proxy for the Ancient and Noble Potters."

"Again, illegally."

"Try convincing the Wizen-geezers that."

"Oh, I intend to. Anything else I need to know before I poke the hive with a stick?"

"Poke it? Jerry, you're gonna blast it with a shotgun. And, actually, yes. Harry and his…escort should be arriving at Madame Malkin's soon. Make a timely interruption between him and Draco, if you can. Little brat deserves a showing up."

"I take it you've met him."

"I have had that extreme displeasure, yes. Once you've done that, avoid Hagrid. The Stone he carries is fake; only we know that. Do nothing to change that."

"Understood."

"Aaaaand that's it. Now, here's where I leave you."

The doors of Gringotts.

"I've got a rather urgent appointment at the Ministry. You can find your way from here, I trust?"

I nodded.

"Good. Oh, and you're not gonna believe who we've gotten to sit as Flamel proxy. Take pics of the reactions for me; we'll be seeing each other again."

"Will we?"

"Of course. Sooner or later, we always see each other again."

And she disappeared in a burst of flame and song.

"…Well, that explains where Dumbledore got the phoenix. Shame I couldn't get one as well. But I'm sure that had nothing to do with the plot development. OW! Where did that brick come from?"

I rubbed my head. Good thing I had on a hat, or that could have been much worse.

"Soooo…. I think it's safe to say I'm not in Kansas anymore. What song do you play when the whole world's gone…mad? Oh. Never mind."

My visor flipped down over my face.

"Crazy, but that's how it goes.

Millions of people living as foes.

Maybe, it's not too late,

To learn how to love how to love,

And forget how to hate.

Mental wounds not healing,

Life's a bitter shame,"

Next stop, Madame Malkin's.

"I'M GOIN' OFF THE RAILS ON A CRAZY TRAIN!"