Harry Potter and the Sealed Gateway
Chapter 7: the Hall of Records
Harry and Ron were taking great delight in showing Gharblag a picture of their archrival, Draco Malfoy, while Borlig and Hermione discussed Goblin politics at the other side of the common room.
"He needs some color. I ought to wipe my backside on his hair..."
"I of course, think that the Goblin Liaisons office is a complete joke..."
"Is he trying to look like a sheet of toilet tissue?"
"Naturally, the restriction of wands is one of the worst travesties..."
"Who are they? Toilet-face's pet gorillas?"
"...Umbridge woman who's responsible..."
"...who asked you, Scar-face..."
"...encountering discrimination like that...Gherlach the Grim..."
"...you call those freckles? It looks like someone poked holes in your face..."
"...honestly, you are more qualified than half of the seventh years here..."
"...don't drink any water, you might leak..."
"...can't even do a simple Protean Charm..."
"...got hit with a cookie-cutter, Scar-face?"
Ron and Harry were rolling on the floor, tears of laughter streaming down their faces. Borlig grinned at them, and Hermione looked at them scornfully. Just then, there were several knocks on the door.
Borlig prodded the Jarvey with his finger and its mouth continued to open, but it didn't make any noise.
"Come in!"
Professor McGonagall stepped into the room, her eyebrow raised at Harry and Ron, who were just getting up off the floor.
"Ah, you must be Borlig," Professor McGonagall smiled, "I am Professor McGonagall, and I teach transfiguration here at Hogwarts, and I am also the Head of Gryffindor House. If you have any questions, you may report to me." She turned to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "Congratulations to all of you on your O.W.L. results. Your schedules don't say it, but N.E.W.T. level classes are divided into two years, and the classes are combined with seventh years, as well as members of all other houses. Also, N.E.W.T. level students are assigned a teacher with for whom they will report for "Teacher Assistance" three times a week. You four have all been assigned to me, along with several other students. Harry, you will be having Occlumency lessons with Professor Dumbledore during the First Teacher Assistance of each week. And, if you have no questions, I should like to have some dinner!" She smiled.
Harry began, "Professor, what happened at Diagon..."
"Potter, all I can say right now is that the Dark Lord did not succeed in his plans." "But—"
"That is all, Potter. Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Bugkle—Mr. Borga—" She sighed, "Borlig. Please go down to the Great Hall, I need to speak with Harry in private." She watched as all three exited out the portrait. Gharblag had gone to sleep in front of the fire.
"Potter."
"Yes?"
"You are well on your way to becoming an Auror..."
"But, Professor, how did I get into Potions?"
"If Professor Snape wishes to tell you, that is his prerogative. I, however, have no business saying anything about that matter. Also, you may wish to know that the password to the Prefects Bathroom—" she suppressed a smile, "I trust you already know its location—is 'wildebeast.' But the real reason I wanted to talk to you," she said, as her eyes lit up, "is to inform you that you have been selected the Gryffindor Quidditch Team Captain for next year...Miss Bell already turned down a co-captaincy, said she wasn't much of a leader—I think our chances are splendid...and...and if I don't get something to eat soon, I am going to eat that...thing." She pointed at Gharblag. "Well, come on then, Potter."
They talked about Quidditch all the way down to the Great Hall. Harry had never realized how much McGonagall knew about Quidditch. She told him about the latest additions to profession Quidditch in Britain, about the former Gryffindors who played on higher-level Quidditch teams, about some useful plays. Harry found her very easy to talk to.
"Professor, were you a Quidditch player yourself?"
She blushed. "Why...yes...I was a beater for Gryffindor, then the Holyhead Harpies...my position was eventually given to Junog Jones, mother of Gwenog Jones...the present Captain...A bit weak on her left backswing, but an excellent sense of what's going on around her..."
Harry looked at her. "You must have been...really good! Professional Quidditch!"
"Oh, hush. I am going to miss Fred and George Weasley," her smiled faded, "Excellent beaters really...Fred, of course, could do spot an Ungeran Duntfoot better than anyone...and George's right-downswing was the best I've seen at Hogwarts...I'm afraid that Misters Sloper and Kirke have a lot of work to do before getting up to scratch..." They had reached the Great Hall.
"Minerva! Harry! Welcome to dinner!" cried Dumbledore, conjuring plates of food. The others at the table looked at them menacingly, as if the had considered eating them when they finally arrived in the Great Hall.
Professor McGonagall winked at Harry and sat next to Dumbledore.
"Harry Potter!" cried a high-pitched voice, "It is true! You is back at Hogwarts to visit Dobby!"
"Erm...yes, Dobby...How are you?"
"Wonderful, Sir. How is you doing?"
"Fine. I think I'm going to eat, are you joining us."
Dobby's eyes watered, "Eat...with you, Sir..."
"I told you he would want you to dine with us, Dobby," said Dumbledore, with a twinkle in his eye.
"Dobby is thanking Harry Potter very much," and with that, Dobby sat down next to Ron (Wheezey!) and Borlig, and began to serve himself some apple cobbler.
Harry sat down in between Hermione and Hagrid and scanned the table. Professor Dumbledore was seated in between Argus Filch and Professor McGonagall, who was discussing something with Mr. Borkkleburg. Along with Mrs. Borkkleburg, there were now about twelve adult goblins at the table, and Hermione, Ron, Hagrid, Bill, Mr. Ollivander, Dobby, and Lupin.
Mr. Ollivander had apparently been commenting on everyone's wands. "Yes, Miss Granger, 10 inches, chestnut, dragon heartstring...quite the wand for complicated charms..." and as he saw Harry, "and of course I remember Harry's wand..."
"Hello, Harry," said Lupin, "I haven't seen you in awhile." During dinner, Harry discussed the illegal Defense Organization he had started last year.
"You won't be needing any defense organization this year..." said Lupin smiling, "nor will you want any extra Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"Why? Who's teaching it?" Harry's heart leapt. If Lupin were teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, it would be a good year indeed.
"It isn't me. And that's all that I have to say about that," said Lupin mysteriously, before turning to speak with Mr. Ollivander about something.
Hagrid was telling Hermione and Borlig about how Grawp had begun to learn how to garden.
"He's quite good, mind you...'is squashes are the biggest I've ever seen..."
But then the doors to the Great Hall swung open.
Two wizards dressed in aquamarine stepped into the hall with a massive crate, nearly as tall as Hagrid. It was apparently raining outside, because they were sopping wet and the magical ceiling was now gray and overcast.
"Where do you want it, Professor Dumbledore?" asked one of them nervously. They both looked at the crate with a certain amount of fear, as if it contained some horrible monster that might break out at any second.
"Down the hall to the left...Follow me...Optimius...please, come with us..."
At this, Mr. Ollivander got up, wipe his mouth off with a napkin, eyed Harry with his creepy pale eyes, and followed the two wizards and Dumbledore down the corridor.
"Ministry wizards?" asked Hermione casually, "the Department of Mysteries, I presume?"
"Very good, Hermione," said Lupin, grinning, "Right on both counts."
Looking at Ron and Borlig, Harry could tell by their suspicious expressions that neither of them understood why two Unspeakables had come to Hogwarts with a monster.
"Don't suppose anyone can tell us what's in the box?" asked Ron.
"I'm afraid not, little bro," said Bill, grinning.
"Harry, Ron," said Bill, walking over to the side wall, "Could you come over here for a second?"
Bill was tall, and wore dragon hide boots and a fang-earing.
"Now, I know Hermione knows this," said Bill quietly, "but it is largely up to you two to see that the Goblins at Hogwarts are treated well. They are playing a very important role in the War here, as well as in other places."
"We like Borlig..." said Ron.
"I know, you do," said Bill, "but there are a lot of wizards who, for various reasons, don't trust goblins at all, even to the point of hating them. Now, there are other families, the Bones family, for example, that are aware of the Goblins' importance to us. But there are others who remain ignorant, and it is your job," he pointed at them, "to be on the lookout for Anti-Goblin feelings, and to report directly to me, Professor Flitwick, or Professor McGonagall...and I suppose Professor Sprout."
"How are we supposed to report it to you?" asked Ron, "you live in London..."
"It won't be as hard as you think," replied Bill tersely, "Now promise me you'll..."
"We will," said Harry definitely.
"Very good," said Bill, grinning. "There should be about twenty goblins at Hogwarts, none of them in Slytherin, hopefully...Goblin children aren't usually ambitious..."
Professor McGonagall had cleared her throat. "I think that we all have an early day tomorrow...and had best be getting some sleep."
"Right, then," said Bill, "Got to get your school supplies tomorrow." Diagon Alley, thought Harry. He was finally going to be able to relax and have fun. As they headed back to the common room, Harry explained to Borlig, Hermione, and Ron what Professor McGonagall had told him.
"Blimey...the Harpies!"
"That is quite impressive, Harry."
"Gwow. She good." Borlig grinned.
"Borlig," Hermione asked, "are you coming shopping with us tomorrow?"
"Gno," said Borlig, nervously, "I gmust do zomethings tomorgow. Gyes. Zo, gwhat do gyou tink gwas ghiding gin dat box," he said, changing the subject.
"I dunno," said Ron, "something awful..."
"What's awful in the Department of Mysteries?" asked Hermione, but she fell quiet at the look on Harry's face. He could think of several things.
"Speaking of boxes..." she said brightly, "have you opened your package yet?"
"No, I completely forgot, let's go..."
They were at the Fat Lady. Ron started to say something, but changed his mind. "Eh...Borlig..."
"Grah-ahg-deg-oo-kla-juck," he said, "Gwhat gwould gyou do gwithout gme?"
They ran into the room and opened a card on top of Harry's parcel.
Harry- this is the second mirror. Sirius left it at Headquarters and I think you should have it. I'm sure you'll find a good use for it. Lupin. Harry put the parcel down.
"Harry, this will be dead useful," said Ron, "You can use it during class to get answers from Hermione!"
"He certainly will not!" said Hermione, but she looked very flattered that she would have been the answer giver, "but Ron's right, Harry...this will be incredibly helpful..."
"No it won't," said Harry, and seeing the incredulous look on Ron's face, he added, "I smashed the other mirror in my trunk last spring."
"Oh, Honestly, Harry!" sighed Hermione, exasperatedly. She opened the trunk, cleared the books and clothes out of it, and pointed her wand at the fragments of mirror. "Reparo," she said, and the mirror fixed itself.
"Oh. Right," said Harry, quite embarrassed.
"Blimey, Hermione, where would we be without you..." said Ron, causing Hermione to turn scarlet.
They had begun to test the mirror out, one person standing in the common room and the others in the dormitory, until the angry head of Professor McGonagall showed itself in the fireplace and told them they had better get some sleep immediately.
They woke up the next morning, said goodbye to Borlig, who was making something that smelled quite like a stagnant pond in the dormitory, and headed downstairs to the Great Hall to find Professor McGonagall already dressed and standing at attention.
"Book list, everyone?"
They nodded.
"Excellent," she said, and then added sadly, "Borlig decided not to come?" They nodded again. "Poor dear," she said, "can't blame him, though..."
Lupin, Bill, and Mr. Ollivander had come downstairs and beckoned Harry, Hermione and Ron to come with them. They waved good-bye to Professor McGonagall, who made breakfast baskets appear in each of their arms, and set off across the yard toward the lake.
"Eh...how are we getting there, anyway?" asked a puzzled Ron.
Lupin grinned, "Mr. Ollivander has kindly agreed to let us use his...vehicles."
"Ooh! What are they, then?" asked Hermione eagerly. But her question was answered when three beautiful chestnut horses came into view. Winged horses, that is.
"They're beautiful!" shrieked Hermione. Harry had to agree with her. The horses that stood before them were very majestic indeed.
"Aethonans," said Mr. Ollivander proudly, "not a better horse in the country."
"Well then," said Bill, "hop on."
Hermione hopped onto the smallest horse. Her face flushed deepest scarlet as Bill hopped onto it behind her and he put his arms around her, and took off.
Harry and Lupin had picked the medium-sized one, leaving Ron and Mr. Ollivander on the biggest horse. Harry could tell that Ron was quite nervous about this, as he kept glancing awkwardly at Mr. Ollivander's pale eyes.
"Wait'll you see how fast Samantha can go," grinned Mr. Ollivander. And sure enough, Samantha was quite the fastest thing Harry had ever seen; she had flown into the horizon in a chestnut blur.
"Let's go then, Dorcas." And Dorcas the Aethonan took off after Samantha, wings flapping.
They all arrived in grassy pasture that was apparently magically fit on the roof of Ollivander's Wand Shop. He put the horses into their stables, and headed downstairs. He wished them goodbye.
"Nice to see all of you again...Ah...looking for a wand; you've come to the right place," he exclaimed turning to a rather disturbed looking first year girl with long blonde hair.
Lupin, Bill, Harry, Ron, and Hermione stepped out into Diagon Alley. Harry immediately noticed a difference from the last time he had been here. There were no displays outside the shops anymore, and wizards sped down the street in large groups, checking frequently over their shoulders.
"Bit quiet, isn't it..." observed Ron.
"Come on, everyone! First stop, Gringotts!" said Bill, rather happily. And the sped off toward the snowy white building that was Gringotts Wizarding Bank.
Harry was pleased that he could now recognize some basic goblin words as the bankers spoke amongst themselves. "Spahg!" he said to a passing Goblin, who looked at him with a raised eyebrow and continued walking.
"Hello is Spahg," he said, seeing that Ron had his eyebrow raised.
"Not too friendly, are they..."
"BILL!" cried a heavily accented female voice. It was not, however, as heavily accented as it had been the last time Harry heard it. He turned around to see Fleur Delacour running into Bill Weasley's arms and kissing him repeatedly. Hermione bit her lips rather hard. Fleur turned towards Harry and his friends.
"Hello, 'Arry!" she smiled, "we meet again!"
"Ronald," she grinned at Ron, "Nice to zee you!"
And she turned to Hermione, "Aren't you Viktor's friend... I zaw him zee ozzer day, you know!" Hermione blushed.
As Hermione, Fleur and Bill discussed Viktor Krum, Harry's eyes turned toward an old bronze door he had never noticed before. Above it, on the lintel in dark blue letters, were the words "Hall of Records."
"Ron..." said Harry, "that's where Voldemort wanted to get into..." Ron flinched at the name.
"Really...why?"
Lupin had noticed them looking at the door and he came over. "That's the Gringotts Hall of Records," he told them, "It stores all sorts of information about every Gringotts customer in history. Quite fascinating really, I've never been in their myself..." "Well, why don't we all take a peak," said Bill, "don't open any of the folders though, or old Griphook will eat us for lunch."
"Yez, but quickly," added Fleur, "zee Goblins do not like uz in zer."
Bill tapped the door with his wand, and it flung open. Harry had never seen so much paper in his life. Hermione looked as if Christmas had come early.
"Oh..my..." she said running in, "here's McGonagall's file...and Flitwick's...Newt Scamander...Harry, here's yours...and..." she stopped and looked at the folder.
Harry peered at it. "JAMES AND LILY POTTER/PETUNIA EVANS" read the folder. Harry swallowed.
"She and my mum must've had a split account before she left..."
But Ron yelled, "It's Dumbledore's! and....Fudge's...please, can we burn it? And Umbridge...no let's burn that one..."
Hermione continued. "Nicolas Flamel...Griselda Marchbanks...Madam Malkins...Billius Weasley, Ron!"
But Ron seemed more interested in the Chudley Cannons hall of fame. "Bliggo Wartok...Grogan Lenin...Jo Mittman...she plays for the Peruvian Protists, now....Blimey!"
Lupin and Bill were chuckling over some names on the west wall when Fleur gasped. "Bill, eet is the founders of 'Ogwarts!"
Harry checked the folders... "GODRIC GRYFFINDOR" "HELGA HUFFLEPUFF" "ROWENA RAVENCLAW" But there was no Salazar Slytherin...
"That's strange..."
"Blimey, folks, we better get out of here..." said Bill nervously. They left the Hall of Records and a Goblin came up to each of them with a bag of money. "Thanks for choosing Gringotts," said the Goblin.
As they left Gringotts, they said goodbye to Fleur and Bill. "I'll be seeing you soon," said Bill, grinning.
They stopped by the Apothecary for Hermione and Harry to buy their silver cauldrons. "Can't say that I envy you..." said Ron.
They entered Flourish and Blotts, which was a small bookstore. As the friendly salesclerk helped them select their text books, which combined, weighed 40 bounds for each person (Hermiones weighed 75), Harry browsed through some other books about Defense Against the Dark Arts. As he fingered through "The Secrets of the Imperius Curse", a very elderly wizard with a cane tapped him on the back and said, "That's a great one...specially with times like they are...but if you're really interested in all of the Unforgivable Curses and their theories...get "Bind, Torture, Kill" by Wichita Carson. It's very good, with diagrams, and everything."
"Thanks," said Harry, "I'll get it, then." He actually very much appreciated the wizened wizard's help. As he turned to join the group, Hermione was begging Lupin to lighten her load for her.
"I don't know, Hermione," he teased, "you might need that arm strength to break the shackles of house-elf enslavement."
Even Hermione laughed at that. And as Harry left Flourish and Blotts with his favorite people in the world, Harry wished that summer would never end.
Chapter 7: the Hall of Records
Harry and Ron were taking great delight in showing Gharblag a picture of their archrival, Draco Malfoy, while Borlig and Hermione discussed Goblin politics at the other side of the common room.
"He needs some color. I ought to wipe my backside on his hair..."
"I of course, think that the Goblin Liaisons office is a complete joke..."
"Is he trying to look like a sheet of toilet tissue?"
"Naturally, the restriction of wands is one of the worst travesties..."
"Who are they? Toilet-face's pet gorillas?"
"...Umbridge woman who's responsible..."
"...who asked you, Scar-face..."
"...encountering discrimination like that...Gherlach the Grim..."
"...you call those freckles? It looks like someone poked holes in your face..."
"...honestly, you are more qualified than half of the seventh years here..."
"...don't drink any water, you might leak..."
"...can't even do a simple Protean Charm..."
"...got hit with a cookie-cutter, Scar-face?"
Ron and Harry were rolling on the floor, tears of laughter streaming down their faces. Borlig grinned at them, and Hermione looked at them scornfully. Just then, there were several knocks on the door.
Borlig prodded the Jarvey with his finger and its mouth continued to open, but it didn't make any noise.
"Come in!"
Professor McGonagall stepped into the room, her eyebrow raised at Harry and Ron, who were just getting up off the floor.
"Ah, you must be Borlig," Professor McGonagall smiled, "I am Professor McGonagall, and I teach transfiguration here at Hogwarts, and I am also the Head of Gryffindor House. If you have any questions, you may report to me." She turned to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "Congratulations to all of you on your O.W.L. results. Your schedules don't say it, but N.E.W.T. level classes are divided into two years, and the classes are combined with seventh years, as well as members of all other houses. Also, N.E.W.T. level students are assigned a teacher with for whom they will report for "Teacher Assistance" three times a week. You four have all been assigned to me, along with several other students. Harry, you will be having Occlumency lessons with Professor Dumbledore during the First Teacher Assistance of each week. And, if you have no questions, I should like to have some dinner!" She smiled.
Harry began, "Professor, what happened at Diagon..."
"Potter, all I can say right now is that the Dark Lord did not succeed in his plans." "But—"
"That is all, Potter. Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Bugkle—Mr. Borga—" She sighed, "Borlig. Please go down to the Great Hall, I need to speak with Harry in private." She watched as all three exited out the portrait. Gharblag had gone to sleep in front of the fire.
"Potter."
"Yes?"
"You are well on your way to becoming an Auror..."
"But, Professor, how did I get into Potions?"
"If Professor Snape wishes to tell you, that is his prerogative. I, however, have no business saying anything about that matter. Also, you may wish to know that the password to the Prefects Bathroom—" she suppressed a smile, "I trust you already know its location—is 'wildebeast.' But the real reason I wanted to talk to you," she said, as her eyes lit up, "is to inform you that you have been selected the Gryffindor Quidditch Team Captain for next year...Miss Bell already turned down a co-captaincy, said she wasn't much of a leader—I think our chances are splendid...and...and if I don't get something to eat soon, I am going to eat that...thing." She pointed at Gharblag. "Well, come on then, Potter."
They talked about Quidditch all the way down to the Great Hall. Harry had never realized how much McGonagall knew about Quidditch. She told him about the latest additions to profession Quidditch in Britain, about the former Gryffindors who played on higher-level Quidditch teams, about some useful plays. Harry found her very easy to talk to.
"Professor, were you a Quidditch player yourself?"
She blushed. "Why...yes...I was a beater for Gryffindor, then the Holyhead Harpies...my position was eventually given to Junog Jones, mother of Gwenog Jones...the present Captain...A bit weak on her left backswing, but an excellent sense of what's going on around her..."
Harry looked at her. "You must have been...really good! Professional Quidditch!"
"Oh, hush. I am going to miss Fred and George Weasley," her smiled faded, "Excellent beaters really...Fred, of course, could do spot an Ungeran Duntfoot better than anyone...and George's right-downswing was the best I've seen at Hogwarts...I'm afraid that Misters Sloper and Kirke have a lot of work to do before getting up to scratch..." They had reached the Great Hall.
"Minerva! Harry! Welcome to dinner!" cried Dumbledore, conjuring plates of food. The others at the table looked at them menacingly, as if the had considered eating them when they finally arrived in the Great Hall.
Professor McGonagall winked at Harry and sat next to Dumbledore.
"Harry Potter!" cried a high-pitched voice, "It is true! You is back at Hogwarts to visit Dobby!"
"Erm...yes, Dobby...How are you?"
"Wonderful, Sir. How is you doing?"
"Fine. I think I'm going to eat, are you joining us."
Dobby's eyes watered, "Eat...with you, Sir..."
"I told you he would want you to dine with us, Dobby," said Dumbledore, with a twinkle in his eye.
"Dobby is thanking Harry Potter very much," and with that, Dobby sat down next to Ron (Wheezey!) and Borlig, and began to serve himself some apple cobbler.
Harry sat down in between Hermione and Hagrid and scanned the table. Professor Dumbledore was seated in between Argus Filch and Professor McGonagall, who was discussing something with Mr. Borkkleburg. Along with Mrs. Borkkleburg, there were now about twelve adult goblins at the table, and Hermione, Ron, Hagrid, Bill, Mr. Ollivander, Dobby, and Lupin.
Mr. Ollivander had apparently been commenting on everyone's wands. "Yes, Miss Granger, 10 inches, chestnut, dragon heartstring...quite the wand for complicated charms..." and as he saw Harry, "and of course I remember Harry's wand..."
"Hello, Harry," said Lupin, "I haven't seen you in awhile." During dinner, Harry discussed the illegal Defense Organization he had started last year.
"You won't be needing any defense organization this year..." said Lupin smiling, "nor will you want any extra Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"Why? Who's teaching it?" Harry's heart leapt. If Lupin were teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, it would be a good year indeed.
"It isn't me. And that's all that I have to say about that," said Lupin mysteriously, before turning to speak with Mr. Ollivander about something.
Hagrid was telling Hermione and Borlig about how Grawp had begun to learn how to garden.
"He's quite good, mind you...'is squashes are the biggest I've ever seen..."
But then the doors to the Great Hall swung open.
Two wizards dressed in aquamarine stepped into the hall with a massive crate, nearly as tall as Hagrid. It was apparently raining outside, because they were sopping wet and the magical ceiling was now gray and overcast.
"Where do you want it, Professor Dumbledore?" asked one of them nervously. They both looked at the crate with a certain amount of fear, as if it contained some horrible monster that might break out at any second.
"Down the hall to the left...Follow me...Optimius...please, come with us..."
At this, Mr. Ollivander got up, wipe his mouth off with a napkin, eyed Harry with his creepy pale eyes, and followed the two wizards and Dumbledore down the corridor.
"Ministry wizards?" asked Hermione casually, "the Department of Mysteries, I presume?"
"Very good, Hermione," said Lupin, grinning, "Right on both counts."
Looking at Ron and Borlig, Harry could tell by their suspicious expressions that neither of them understood why two Unspeakables had come to Hogwarts with a monster.
"Don't suppose anyone can tell us what's in the box?" asked Ron.
"I'm afraid not, little bro," said Bill, grinning.
"Harry, Ron," said Bill, walking over to the side wall, "Could you come over here for a second?"
Bill was tall, and wore dragon hide boots and a fang-earing.
"Now, I know Hermione knows this," said Bill quietly, "but it is largely up to you two to see that the Goblins at Hogwarts are treated well. They are playing a very important role in the War here, as well as in other places."
"We like Borlig..." said Ron.
"I know, you do," said Bill, "but there are a lot of wizards who, for various reasons, don't trust goblins at all, even to the point of hating them. Now, there are other families, the Bones family, for example, that are aware of the Goblins' importance to us. But there are others who remain ignorant, and it is your job," he pointed at them, "to be on the lookout for Anti-Goblin feelings, and to report directly to me, Professor Flitwick, or Professor McGonagall...and I suppose Professor Sprout."
"How are we supposed to report it to you?" asked Ron, "you live in London..."
"It won't be as hard as you think," replied Bill tersely, "Now promise me you'll..."
"We will," said Harry definitely.
"Very good," said Bill, grinning. "There should be about twenty goblins at Hogwarts, none of them in Slytherin, hopefully...Goblin children aren't usually ambitious..."
Professor McGonagall had cleared her throat. "I think that we all have an early day tomorrow...and had best be getting some sleep."
"Right, then," said Bill, "Got to get your school supplies tomorrow." Diagon Alley, thought Harry. He was finally going to be able to relax and have fun. As they headed back to the common room, Harry explained to Borlig, Hermione, and Ron what Professor McGonagall had told him.
"Blimey...the Harpies!"
"That is quite impressive, Harry."
"Gwow. She good." Borlig grinned.
"Borlig," Hermione asked, "are you coming shopping with us tomorrow?"
"Gno," said Borlig, nervously, "I gmust do zomethings tomorgow. Gyes. Zo, gwhat do gyou tink gwas ghiding gin dat box," he said, changing the subject.
"I dunno," said Ron, "something awful..."
"What's awful in the Department of Mysteries?" asked Hermione, but she fell quiet at the look on Harry's face. He could think of several things.
"Speaking of boxes..." she said brightly, "have you opened your package yet?"
"No, I completely forgot, let's go..."
They were at the Fat Lady. Ron started to say something, but changed his mind. "Eh...Borlig..."
"Grah-ahg-deg-oo-kla-juck," he said, "Gwhat gwould gyou do gwithout gme?"
They ran into the room and opened a card on top of Harry's parcel.
Harry- this is the second mirror. Sirius left it at Headquarters and I think you should have it. I'm sure you'll find a good use for it. Lupin. Harry put the parcel down.
"Harry, this will be dead useful," said Ron, "You can use it during class to get answers from Hermione!"
"He certainly will not!" said Hermione, but she looked very flattered that she would have been the answer giver, "but Ron's right, Harry...this will be incredibly helpful..."
"No it won't," said Harry, and seeing the incredulous look on Ron's face, he added, "I smashed the other mirror in my trunk last spring."
"Oh, Honestly, Harry!" sighed Hermione, exasperatedly. She opened the trunk, cleared the books and clothes out of it, and pointed her wand at the fragments of mirror. "Reparo," she said, and the mirror fixed itself.
"Oh. Right," said Harry, quite embarrassed.
"Blimey, Hermione, where would we be without you..." said Ron, causing Hermione to turn scarlet.
They had begun to test the mirror out, one person standing in the common room and the others in the dormitory, until the angry head of Professor McGonagall showed itself in the fireplace and told them they had better get some sleep immediately.
They woke up the next morning, said goodbye to Borlig, who was making something that smelled quite like a stagnant pond in the dormitory, and headed downstairs to the Great Hall to find Professor McGonagall already dressed and standing at attention.
"Book list, everyone?"
They nodded.
"Excellent," she said, and then added sadly, "Borlig decided not to come?" They nodded again. "Poor dear," she said, "can't blame him, though..."
Lupin, Bill, and Mr. Ollivander had come downstairs and beckoned Harry, Hermione and Ron to come with them. They waved good-bye to Professor McGonagall, who made breakfast baskets appear in each of their arms, and set off across the yard toward the lake.
"Eh...how are we getting there, anyway?" asked a puzzled Ron.
Lupin grinned, "Mr. Ollivander has kindly agreed to let us use his...vehicles."
"Ooh! What are they, then?" asked Hermione eagerly. But her question was answered when three beautiful chestnut horses came into view. Winged horses, that is.
"They're beautiful!" shrieked Hermione. Harry had to agree with her. The horses that stood before them were very majestic indeed.
"Aethonans," said Mr. Ollivander proudly, "not a better horse in the country."
"Well then," said Bill, "hop on."
Hermione hopped onto the smallest horse. Her face flushed deepest scarlet as Bill hopped onto it behind her and he put his arms around her, and took off.
Harry and Lupin had picked the medium-sized one, leaving Ron and Mr. Ollivander on the biggest horse. Harry could tell that Ron was quite nervous about this, as he kept glancing awkwardly at Mr. Ollivander's pale eyes.
"Wait'll you see how fast Samantha can go," grinned Mr. Ollivander. And sure enough, Samantha was quite the fastest thing Harry had ever seen; she had flown into the horizon in a chestnut blur.
"Let's go then, Dorcas." And Dorcas the Aethonan took off after Samantha, wings flapping.
They all arrived in grassy pasture that was apparently magically fit on the roof of Ollivander's Wand Shop. He put the horses into their stables, and headed downstairs. He wished them goodbye.
"Nice to see all of you again...Ah...looking for a wand; you've come to the right place," he exclaimed turning to a rather disturbed looking first year girl with long blonde hair.
Lupin, Bill, Harry, Ron, and Hermione stepped out into Diagon Alley. Harry immediately noticed a difference from the last time he had been here. There were no displays outside the shops anymore, and wizards sped down the street in large groups, checking frequently over their shoulders.
"Bit quiet, isn't it..." observed Ron.
"Come on, everyone! First stop, Gringotts!" said Bill, rather happily. And the sped off toward the snowy white building that was Gringotts Wizarding Bank.
Harry was pleased that he could now recognize some basic goblin words as the bankers spoke amongst themselves. "Spahg!" he said to a passing Goblin, who looked at him with a raised eyebrow and continued walking.
"Hello is Spahg," he said, seeing that Ron had his eyebrow raised.
"Not too friendly, are they..."
"BILL!" cried a heavily accented female voice. It was not, however, as heavily accented as it had been the last time Harry heard it. He turned around to see Fleur Delacour running into Bill Weasley's arms and kissing him repeatedly. Hermione bit her lips rather hard. Fleur turned towards Harry and his friends.
"Hello, 'Arry!" she smiled, "we meet again!"
"Ronald," she grinned at Ron, "Nice to zee you!"
And she turned to Hermione, "Aren't you Viktor's friend... I zaw him zee ozzer day, you know!" Hermione blushed.
As Hermione, Fleur and Bill discussed Viktor Krum, Harry's eyes turned toward an old bronze door he had never noticed before. Above it, on the lintel in dark blue letters, were the words "Hall of Records."
"Ron..." said Harry, "that's where Voldemort wanted to get into..." Ron flinched at the name.
"Really...why?"
Lupin had noticed them looking at the door and he came over. "That's the Gringotts Hall of Records," he told them, "It stores all sorts of information about every Gringotts customer in history. Quite fascinating really, I've never been in their myself..." "Well, why don't we all take a peak," said Bill, "don't open any of the folders though, or old Griphook will eat us for lunch."
"Yez, but quickly," added Fleur, "zee Goblins do not like uz in zer."
Bill tapped the door with his wand, and it flung open. Harry had never seen so much paper in his life. Hermione looked as if Christmas had come early.
"Oh..my..." she said running in, "here's McGonagall's file...and Flitwick's...Newt Scamander...Harry, here's yours...and..." she stopped and looked at the folder.
Harry peered at it. "JAMES AND LILY POTTER/PETUNIA EVANS" read the folder. Harry swallowed.
"She and my mum must've had a split account before she left..."
But Ron yelled, "It's Dumbledore's! and....Fudge's...please, can we burn it? And Umbridge...no let's burn that one..."
Hermione continued. "Nicolas Flamel...Griselda Marchbanks...Madam Malkins...Billius Weasley, Ron!"
But Ron seemed more interested in the Chudley Cannons hall of fame. "Bliggo Wartok...Grogan Lenin...Jo Mittman...she plays for the Peruvian Protists, now....Blimey!"
Lupin and Bill were chuckling over some names on the west wall when Fleur gasped. "Bill, eet is the founders of 'Ogwarts!"
Harry checked the folders... "GODRIC GRYFFINDOR" "HELGA HUFFLEPUFF" "ROWENA RAVENCLAW" But there was no Salazar Slytherin...
"That's strange..."
"Blimey, folks, we better get out of here..." said Bill nervously. They left the Hall of Records and a Goblin came up to each of them with a bag of money. "Thanks for choosing Gringotts," said the Goblin.
As they left Gringotts, they said goodbye to Fleur and Bill. "I'll be seeing you soon," said Bill, grinning.
They stopped by the Apothecary for Hermione and Harry to buy their silver cauldrons. "Can't say that I envy you..." said Ron.
They entered Flourish and Blotts, which was a small bookstore. As the friendly salesclerk helped them select their text books, which combined, weighed 40 bounds for each person (Hermiones weighed 75), Harry browsed through some other books about Defense Against the Dark Arts. As he fingered through "The Secrets of the Imperius Curse", a very elderly wizard with a cane tapped him on the back and said, "That's a great one...specially with times like they are...but if you're really interested in all of the Unforgivable Curses and their theories...get "Bind, Torture, Kill" by Wichita Carson. It's very good, with diagrams, and everything."
"Thanks," said Harry, "I'll get it, then." He actually very much appreciated the wizened wizard's help. As he turned to join the group, Hermione was begging Lupin to lighten her load for her.
"I don't know, Hermione," he teased, "you might need that arm strength to break the shackles of house-elf enslavement."
Even Hermione laughed at that. And as Harry left Flourish and Blotts with his favorite people in the world, Harry wished that summer would never end.