The short, ill tempered goblin led Harry and Remus to a narrow stone
hallway whose revolving bookcase entrance was hidden discreetly behind a
tall statue of a dragon. They followed the slopping path between tight
stone walls, and then took a right, left left, left, right, the left fork,
curved right, took the middle fork, and that's about where Harry lost track
of their trek. Five minutes later, the arrived outside of a grand mahogany
door with a large brass knocker. A small council of bank trustees and a
few purser's secretaries and notary scribes were seated at the long oak
table in the center of the room. At the far end of the table, behind the
bank president roared a large fire in an ornate marble hearth. Large high-
backed leather chairs with rounded brass studs provided seating, and there
were two located at the head of the table. Harry took his seat at the end,
and Remus walked around behind him to sit on his right side.
The President welcomed cleared his throat at the far end of the table, immediately putting an end to the subdued chatter all around the table. The wizards around the table all faced him, and paid rapt attention to his speech. "Hello Mr. Potter, Mr. Lupin," the heads at the table all turned to Harry and they nodded their greetings, a few eyes lingered for a moment on Harry's fringe, hoping to see the scar, "My name is Jeremiah Petty, I am the Secretary of the Treasury for the Minister of Magic, and President of Gringotts Wizarding Bank. As you are well aware, I'm sure, when a wizard with an inheritance turns 17, he is entitled to claim up to 60% of the funds, and is fully entitled when he marries, produces offspring, or turns 26, whichever of these may come first. We are here today to discuss your account, and how it shall be handled from here, seeing as up to your coming of age, Professor Albus Dumbledore managed it. Interest has been earned, and I believe rent or sales of properties belonging to you through the Potter Family, as well as newly willed property and monies from the Black line have been added to your net worth, and I believe our top accountants figured the new total yesterday for our meeting today. You must have a guardian of the account present with you to co-sign the releases, I'm assuming that is what he is doing here," Mr. Petty continued, nodding politely at Remus, "Yes, Yes, well there are quiet a pile of forms to be signed, before we actually divulge your balance, so lets get on with it, we can't be here all day long, goodness, no!" As he spoke, several secretaries nearly knocked their chairs over, seemingly trying to be the first one to Mr. Petty's bidding.
A tall thin young man with a small frown on his face hopped up quickly and presented Harry with a fresh quill and ink. Several forms were rushed to Harry, stacked one on the other, waiting to be signed. "Yes, I believe that first one is just a signature to say that you are who you say you are, and that you are indeed of age. Bank policy, I'm afraid, not that anyone is doubting you, Mr. Potter," the bank president narrated from the head of the table, "yes, yes, good, jolly good!" he exclaimed as Harry finished up signing the thick stack of parchments. "So now, I should think you'd like to hear just how much money you've come into young Mr. Potter! Now let's have it O'Brian." He nodded succinctly to an aid on his left, who promptly opened up his ledger and fixed a pair of glasses from sliding down his nose. He cleared his throat, flipped a few pages, and from the far end of the table, Harry thought he could see the man's eyebrows rise slowly as his eyes grew large.
"Well Mr. Potter, I see here that after a second evaluation, a sort of inventory, if you will, you'll find that you are very easily set for a half dozen lifetimes over," he chuckled, "The net worth of your two estate homes is close to 21 million pounds Muggle currency, that's not including the land that your grandparents owned in Derbyshire, after property taxes, the loan on that is quite disappointing comparing to it's beauty, but it's a handsome sum nonetheless, coming to a total of 6oo,ooo Muggle pounds, and the separate property in Ireland, a county called Offaly near the town of Tullamore that was sold to a land developer caught you a fair sum, 6 million.
"On to the Black estates, you were willed one property in northern Scotland, and a fair bit of land in the Channel Islands on Jersey Island, outside of Saint Aubin, I believe there is a small beach house there located on the secluded property. The estate's worth has plummeted I'm sorry to say, due to a lack of up-keep, and a general disregard, but it could still catch as much as 5 million, so the appraiser said. The island property is as good as gold, you'll clear quite a figure for it because of its location alone, close to 4 million, and that's enormous compared to its size. Now, don't think I've overlooked them; you have four more houses spread across England. Two in London, one of which is a Muggle address. It's a loft overlooking the Thames; I believe their docks can be glimpsed. Any way, it's being rented to a man, who pays 7,ooo pounds a month on it for the last 15 years, so that's a nice amount there."
Mr. O'Brian went on, leaving Harry quite bewildered. He didn't realize he had so much. "Then there is the lot in Diagon Alley, yes, just above us now, and down the street a block. That belonged to your parents I believe, that is to say, they're responsible for its purchase. It's a merit of 4oo,ooo pounds, if you like we can walk you over after our meeting and you can review it yourself. You also have a cottage in Hogsmeade, just off the main stretch. That's worth a tidy sum, those properties are in high demand!" he nodded to himself and went on with the list. "An extension of that property across town shows that you have land directly on the edge of Hogwarts school property. Ha! It was right under your nose every time you walked into Hogsmeade, and you never knew it until now! Fancy that. No structures built on your land though, so not quite as fetching as you could hope, but a good total even so. That's approximately 6oo,ooo Muggle pounds, which is good considering the structure is only 2,530 sq. ft. and the land, put together is only a little over two acres!" Mr. O'Brian seemed clearly impressed, "you also own a townhouse in Wales, a charming residence in Cardiff, also being rented out for a profit of 4,ooo per month for over 26 years! My goodness!
"Now, if we total that up, let see," he poked his wand at the page, swirling the tip around, "Yes, Oh my indeed, that's 4o,116,ooo million muggle pounds right there!" He paused a moment to let it sink in. Continuing he converted it to Galleons for Harry, "That comes to 63 million Galleons, 74 thousand Sickles, and 3oo thousand Knuts. Quite a fortune you've got there! Congratulations Mr. Potter! And now, we move on to frozen accounts, deposit accounts, savings, and certain bequests. Mr. Walden?" He looked to a very severe looking man on his right, a man who convincingly reminded Harry of Mr. Crouch dressed for the World Cup in his fourth year.
"Thank you Mr. O'Brian, and congratulations indeed to you Mr. Potter. Your family has been one of our largest clients throughout the years Mr. Potter, I'm sure you couldn't even begin to imagine how wealthy your lineage truly was, although your real-estate must give you an idea. You're ancestors helped to build the very structure we're sitting in, and the old location for St. Mungo's as well. Very generous, certainly! Your parents had three accounts, one of there own earnings, another very secure vault, and the largest which contains family money, I daresay a bit of blood money.... Nothing to be ashamed of, almost all wizarding families have it, there were many feuds and vendettas in the old days, long ago, so no worries!" he stopped to take a sip of water.
Harry thought to himself, 'Yeah, unless you count the grudge that Salazar Slytherin has against all wizard-kind!'
Mr. Walden continued after wiping his mustache rather daintily with a handkerchief. "The last account also holds your real-estate money, and any deposits from recent wills and the like. I believe that the night your parents were killed and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named vanished, several donations were made in your name to this account, gratitude from the large wizarding community. The largest of the three contains close to 1 billion in Galleons, Sickles and Knuts, the smaller one being a total of 42 thousand in Galleons, 23 hundred Sickles, and 16 Knuts. The vault was frozen upon your parent's death, but I believe it's value monetarily isn't very great. I believe it was used as very concealed means of making with- drawls while they were on the run, or in hiding, although there are also various belongings that were stored there for safe keeping by Professor Dumbledore. There are only 21 Galleons left of that, and your mother's and father's wedding rings as well as you're birth documentation, and a family tree, among other things. The Professor has signed the release papers, entrusting the accounts in their entirety to you. Here are the keys to the vault, and your family's account, I trust you still have the one to your parent's safe. Now, furthering our discussion on accounts..."
Over an hour later, Harry and Remus emerged from behind the large panel door, Harry with a look of extreme surprise on his face. To further his astonishment, he noticed that they were no longer looking at the restricting, rough hewn stone walls and packed dirt floor, but at they had arrived upon exiting the conference room in a small square room, furnished much like you and I may envision a rather nice hotel hallway to be. Harry, who had never really been to a hotel, unless you're counting the Leaky Cauldron, and I'm certainly not, so he was quite shocked, especially because he didn't appear to have come out where he had gone in. The walls were papered in an ecru colored paper, with skinny gold pinstripes, and below the chair rail, there was a solid gold paper with ecru colored fleur de lis. The carpet was short dark green pattern with plumes and irises contrasting in an even darker green color, giving the illusion that they had been embossed somehow. Directly in front of them were two golden doors, reminding Harry slightly of elevator doors. The room was lit by sconces that hung on the wall, and there were two plush benches on the left and right walls. A chime sounded, and the doors slid open revealing an elevator compartment. Remus directed Harry inside, and the compartment closed. Harry could feel the floor vibrate as the cables lifted the box up towards the entrance to Gringotts, back to the street in front of the grand building, and back to the real world.
"Not many people realize how well-off you are Harry; those accounts are very misleading to anyone outside of the proverbial 'circle of trust'. Albus made sure that it seemed to the world as if your properties were sold off, and there were several stories run about money being turned over to the Ministry. Anyone who was to look into the books would see a modest amount, but nothing eye-popping like the reality is. All of those men in that room, aside from Mr. Petty and Mr. Walden, have had their memories modified. Mr. Walden is a member of the Order, he quite naturally, deals with finance and the treasury. Mr. Petty, of course, as the bank president is entitled to full knowledge of all accounts opened with Gringotts. None of them realize that your parents have a Muggle account, near the loft in London, but that's for another day. We'd better hurry to the Ministry if we want to be on time for your test."
Harry nodded mutely, still quite in shock. He couldn't help but feel that he didn't want that money, he didn't deserve the gifts that Mr. Walden had mentioned, and he certainly wanted nothing to do with blood money. He ran his hand through his unruly hair, and took a deep breath as the elevator doors opened onto a long wood paneled hallway. At the far end, they could see the hustle and bustle of the main lobby of Gringotts.
"What is involved with the test, Remus?" Harry asked, his nerves about the license returning.
"It's fairly easy, I think they have a written part, and then the practical part, it's almost like an exam up at Hogwarts. You've read your pamphlet on Apparating right? Because if you haven't, there is no point in us going," he glanced to see Harry nod. He couldn't help thinking how tall Harry was getting; he would have to direct his eyes up to look Harry in the eyes if he were facing him. He was reminded of James right away. "Right then, you know the drill, you think about where you want to end up, visualize yourself there, and poof, there you are! Be careful if all you have in your mind is a name of a place, you have to just concentrate on the name in that case, because you may end up somewhere else if you try to imagine the appearance of somewhere you've never been. Just keep your mind on your destination, and you wont' splinch yourself. You shouldn't Apparate when you're feeling weak or sick either, and especially not when you're pissed, or your emotions are clouded. That could cause a splinch."
Harry gulped. He was definitely going to have difficulty concentrating for the test. Remus took it as anxiety about splinching and he started off on a foray about splinching. "It's not that it hurts extremely, I'm positive you've felt worse," he added with a uneasy chuckle. "It's just a feeling of lightheadedness, and sometimes you feel dizzy. The main concern about it is Muggles. Normally they don't notice if someone's disappeared in a small crowd, but if the person's left behind body parts, it becomes very clear. Sometimes it can be a bit tricky to unstuck someone who has splinched, but most of the time it's just a wave of the wand, and a hefty fine."
They left Gringotts, and turned down a wide alley to the left, leaving the main street of Diagon Alley to their backs. The alley they were traveling down looked residential, there were small stoops every few feet, with windows and shutters and different doors. They stopped at a brick one with a vivid red glass paneled door which reminded Harry of the telephone box entrance to the Ministry. There were curtains drawn behind the glass, but a small plaque next to the porch light read, "Ministry of Transportation, Elfreth's Alley Branch". Remus opened the door, and they walked into a small waiting area. At the far corner was a countertop desk was a frazzled looking witch surrounded by stacks of paperwork and several panels of plastic, all of which were glowing various colors, some more urgently than others. Along the walls there were disconnected chairs, side by side, some were occupied by witches and wizards who were absorbed in filling out a sheet on a clipboard available up at the counter. The witch glanced up as the door closed, and then picked up what looked like a phone. "Mr. Potter is here." She said clearly into it, causing a few heads to snap up from filling out forms. From behind a door near the desk on the wall, Harry could hear the same message being spoken in a louder volume. It was muffled slightly by the walls.
A wizard came out, handed Remus a clipboard and pointed to a chair on the wall, and then, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder, he herded him through the door and down a hallway. He stopped at a small room to the right where there were several desks with chairs sitting empty and alone in the windowless room. Harry sat down and a parchment with numbered questions appeared in front of him. A quill was perched on a fresh ink bottle. "Mr. Potter, please write your name and the date on the test, answer all questions to the best of your ability, and do not skip any. You have thirty-two minutes, I'll be back to collect your paper then." The wizard bustled out the door, presumably of to another exam room with another person.
Precisely thirty two minutes later, the wizard came hastening back in, snatching the test in one hand, and grabbing Harry's wrist in his other. Harry was yanked out of the chair, shaking the desk and spilling the ink. He wrenched himself free from the anxious wizard's grasp and followed after the shorter man's back down the hall to a room with a sign indicating it was the 'Practical Testing Apparation Point'.
Half an hour later, Harry received his Apparation license and was on his way down the long corridor to the waiting room of the establishment. He scanned the waiting room for Remus, who had gone to run a few errands, and not seeing him, he sank into one of the chairs along the wall. The stressed out witch behind the desk looked up at him after a few minutes and remembered a message for him. "'Scuse me, Mr. Potter!" she hissed quietly, "Oi!" Harry looked up, "That man 'oo was wit choo, 'e's gone shopping, an 'e says for me to say 'meet choo back at the Leaky Cauldron'."
"Thanks ma'am." Harry muttered as he rose from his seat and ambled to the door. He pulled the handle and jogged down the steps and up Elfreth's Alley towards the noisy and lively street ahead that was Diagon Alley.
The President welcomed cleared his throat at the far end of the table, immediately putting an end to the subdued chatter all around the table. The wizards around the table all faced him, and paid rapt attention to his speech. "Hello Mr. Potter, Mr. Lupin," the heads at the table all turned to Harry and they nodded their greetings, a few eyes lingered for a moment on Harry's fringe, hoping to see the scar, "My name is Jeremiah Petty, I am the Secretary of the Treasury for the Minister of Magic, and President of Gringotts Wizarding Bank. As you are well aware, I'm sure, when a wizard with an inheritance turns 17, he is entitled to claim up to 60% of the funds, and is fully entitled when he marries, produces offspring, or turns 26, whichever of these may come first. We are here today to discuss your account, and how it shall be handled from here, seeing as up to your coming of age, Professor Albus Dumbledore managed it. Interest has been earned, and I believe rent or sales of properties belonging to you through the Potter Family, as well as newly willed property and monies from the Black line have been added to your net worth, and I believe our top accountants figured the new total yesterday for our meeting today. You must have a guardian of the account present with you to co-sign the releases, I'm assuming that is what he is doing here," Mr. Petty continued, nodding politely at Remus, "Yes, Yes, well there are quiet a pile of forms to be signed, before we actually divulge your balance, so lets get on with it, we can't be here all day long, goodness, no!" As he spoke, several secretaries nearly knocked their chairs over, seemingly trying to be the first one to Mr. Petty's bidding.
A tall thin young man with a small frown on his face hopped up quickly and presented Harry with a fresh quill and ink. Several forms were rushed to Harry, stacked one on the other, waiting to be signed. "Yes, I believe that first one is just a signature to say that you are who you say you are, and that you are indeed of age. Bank policy, I'm afraid, not that anyone is doubting you, Mr. Potter," the bank president narrated from the head of the table, "yes, yes, good, jolly good!" he exclaimed as Harry finished up signing the thick stack of parchments. "So now, I should think you'd like to hear just how much money you've come into young Mr. Potter! Now let's have it O'Brian." He nodded succinctly to an aid on his left, who promptly opened up his ledger and fixed a pair of glasses from sliding down his nose. He cleared his throat, flipped a few pages, and from the far end of the table, Harry thought he could see the man's eyebrows rise slowly as his eyes grew large.
"Well Mr. Potter, I see here that after a second evaluation, a sort of inventory, if you will, you'll find that you are very easily set for a half dozen lifetimes over," he chuckled, "The net worth of your two estate homes is close to 21 million pounds Muggle currency, that's not including the land that your grandparents owned in Derbyshire, after property taxes, the loan on that is quite disappointing comparing to it's beauty, but it's a handsome sum nonetheless, coming to a total of 6oo,ooo Muggle pounds, and the separate property in Ireland, a county called Offaly near the town of Tullamore that was sold to a land developer caught you a fair sum, 6 million.
"On to the Black estates, you were willed one property in northern Scotland, and a fair bit of land in the Channel Islands on Jersey Island, outside of Saint Aubin, I believe there is a small beach house there located on the secluded property. The estate's worth has plummeted I'm sorry to say, due to a lack of up-keep, and a general disregard, but it could still catch as much as 5 million, so the appraiser said. The island property is as good as gold, you'll clear quite a figure for it because of its location alone, close to 4 million, and that's enormous compared to its size. Now, don't think I've overlooked them; you have four more houses spread across England. Two in London, one of which is a Muggle address. It's a loft overlooking the Thames; I believe their docks can be glimpsed. Any way, it's being rented to a man, who pays 7,ooo pounds a month on it for the last 15 years, so that's a nice amount there."
Mr. O'Brian went on, leaving Harry quite bewildered. He didn't realize he had so much. "Then there is the lot in Diagon Alley, yes, just above us now, and down the street a block. That belonged to your parents I believe, that is to say, they're responsible for its purchase. It's a merit of 4oo,ooo pounds, if you like we can walk you over after our meeting and you can review it yourself. You also have a cottage in Hogsmeade, just off the main stretch. That's worth a tidy sum, those properties are in high demand!" he nodded to himself and went on with the list. "An extension of that property across town shows that you have land directly on the edge of Hogwarts school property. Ha! It was right under your nose every time you walked into Hogsmeade, and you never knew it until now! Fancy that. No structures built on your land though, so not quite as fetching as you could hope, but a good total even so. That's approximately 6oo,ooo Muggle pounds, which is good considering the structure is only 2,530 sq. ft. and the land, put together is only a little over two acres!" Mr. O'Brian seemed clearly impressed, "you also own a townhouse in Wales, a charming residence in Cardiff, also being rented out for a profit of 4,ooo per month for over 26 years! My goodness!
"Now, if we total that up, let see," he poked his wand at the page, swirling the tip around, "Yes, Oh my indeed, that's 4o,116,ooo million muggle pounds right there!" He paused a moment to let it sink in. Continuing he converted it to Galleons for Harry, "That comes to 63 million Galleons, 74 thousand Sickles, and 3oo thousand Knuts. Quite a fortune you've got there! Congratulations Mr. Potter! And now, we move on to frozen accounts, deposit accounts, savings, and certain bequests. Mr. Walden?" He looked to a very severe looking man on his right, a man who convincingly reminded Harry of Mr. Crouch dressed for the World Cup in his fourth year.
"Thank you Mr. O'Brian, and congratulations indeed to you Mr. Potter. Your family has been one of our largest clients throughout the years Mr. Potter, I'm sure you couldn't even begin to imagine how wealthy your lineage truly was, although your real-estate must give you an idea. You're ancestors helped to build the very structure we're sitting in, and the old location for St. Mungo's as well. Very generous, certainly! Your parents had three accounts, one of there own earnings, another very secure vault, and the largest which contains family money, I daresay a bit of blood money.... Nothing to be ashamed of, almost all wizarding families have it, there were many feuds and vendettas in the old days, long ago, so no worries!" he stopped to take a sip of water.
Harry thought to himself, 'Yeah, unless you count the grudge that Salazar Slytherin has against all wizard-kind!'
Mr. Walden continued after wiping his mustache rather daintily with a handkerchief. "The last account also holds your real-estate money, and any deposits from recent wills and the like. I believe that the night your parents were killed and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named vanished, several donations were made in your name to this account, gratitude from the large wizarding community. The largest of the three contains close to 1 billion in Galleons, Sickles and Knuts, the smaller one being a total of 42 thousand in Galleons, 23 hundred Sickles, and 16 Knuts. The vault was frozen upon your parent's death, but I believe it's value monetarily isn't very great. I believe it was used as very concealed means of making with- drawls while they were on the run, or in hiding, although there are also various belongings that were stored there for safe keeping by Professor Dumbledore. There are only 21 Galleons left of that, and your mother's and father's wedding rings as well as you're birth documentation, and a family tree, among other things. The Professor has signed the release papers, entrusting the accounts in their entirety to you. Here are the keys to the vault, and your family's account, I trust you still have the one to your parent's safe. Now, furthering our discussion on accounts..."
Over an hour later, Harry and Remus emerged from behind the large panel door, Harry with a look of extreme surprise on his face. To further his astonishment, he noticed that they were no longer looking at the restricting, rough hewn stone walls and packed dirt floor, but at they had arrived upon exiting the conference room in a small square room, furnished much like you and I may envision a rather nice hotel hallway to be. Harry, who had never really been to a hotel, unless you're counting the Leaky Cauldron, and I'm certainly not, so he was quite shocked, especially because he didn't appear to have come out where he had gone in. The walls were papered in an ecru colored paper, with skinny gold pinstripes, and below the chair rail, there was a solid gold paper with ecru colored fleur de lis. The carpet was short dark green pattern with plumes and irises contrasting in an even darker green color, giving the illusion that they had been embossed somehow. Directly in front of them were two golden doors, reminding Harry slightly of elevator doors. The room was lit by sconces that hung on the wall, and there were two plush benches on the left and right walls. A chime sounded, and the doors slid open revealing an elevator compartment. Remus directed Harry inside, and the compartment closed. Harry could feel the floor vibrate as the cables lifted the box up towards the entrance to Gringotts, back to the street in front of the grand building, and back to the real world.
"Not many people realize how well-off you are Harry; those accounts are very misleading to anyone outside of the proverbial 'circle of trust'. Albus made sure that it seemed to the world as if your properties were sold off, and there were several stories run about money being turned over to the Ministry. Anyone who was to look into the books would see a modest amount, but nothing eye-popping like the reality is. All of those men in that room, aside from Mr. Petty and Mr. Walden, have had their memories modified. Mr. Walden is a member of the Order, he quite naturally, deals with finance and the treasury. Mr. Petty, of course, as the bank president is entitled to full knowledge of all accounts opened with Gringotts. None of them realize that your parents have a Muggle account, near the loft in London, but that's for another day. We'd better hurry to the Ministry if we want to be on time for your test."
Harry nodded mutely, still quite in shock. He couldn't help but feel that he didn't want that money, he didn't deserve the gifts that Mr. Walden had mentioned, and he certainly wanted nothing to do with blood money. He ran his hand through his unruly hair, and took a deep breath as the elevator doors opened onto a long wood paneled hallway. At the far end, they could see the hustle and bustle of the main lobby of Gringotts.
"What is involved with the test, Remus?" Harry asked, his nerves about the license returning.
"It's fairly easy, I think they have a written part, and then the practical part, it's almost like an exam up at Hogwarts. You've read your pamphlet on Apparating right? Because if you haven't, there is no point in us going," he glanced to see Harry nod. He couldn't help thinking how tall Harry was getting; he would have to direct his eyes up to look Harry in the eyes if he were facing him. He was reminded of James right away. "Right then, you know the drill, you think about where you want to end up, visualize yourself there, and poof, there you are! Be careful if all you have in your mind is a name of a place, you have to just concentrate on the name in that case, because you may end up somewhere else if you try to imagine the appearance of somewhere you've never been. Just keep your mind on your destination, and you wont' splinch yourself. You shouldn't Apparate when you're feeling weak or sick either, and especially not when you're pissed, or your emotions are clouded. That could cause a splinch."
Harry gulped. He was definitely going to have difficulty concentrating for the test. Remus took it as anxiety about splinching and he started off on a foray about splinching. "It's not that it hurts extremely, I'm positive you've felt worse," he added with a uneasy chuckle. "It's just a feeling of lightheadedness, and sometimes you feel dizzy. The main concern about it is Muggles. Normally they don't notice if someone's disappeared in a small crowd, but if the person's left behind body parts, it becomes very clear. Sometimes it can be a bit tricky to unstuck someone who has splinched, but most of the time it's just a wave of the wand, and a hefty fine."
They left Gringotts, and turned down a wide alley to the left, leaving the main street of Diagon Alley to their backs. The alley they were traveling down looked residential, there were small stoops every few feet, with windows and shutters and different doors. They stopped at a brick one with a vivid red glass paneled door which reminded Harry of the telephone box entrance to the Ministry. There were curtains drawn behind the glass, but a small plaque next to the porch light read, "Ministry of Transportation, Elfreth's Alley Branch". Remus opened the door, and they walked into a small waiting area. At the far corner was a countertop desk was a frazzled looking witch surrounded by stacks of paperwork and several panels of plastic, all of which were glowing various colors, some more urgently than others. Along the walls there were disconnected chairs, side by side, some were occupied by witches and wizards who were absorbed in filling out a sheet on a clipboard available up at the counter. The witch glanced up as the door closed, and then picked up what looked like a phone. "Mr. Potter is here." She said clearly into it, causing a few heads to snap up from filling out forms. From behind a door near the desk on the wall, Harry could hear the same message being spoken in a louder volume. It was muffled slightly by the walls.
A wizard came out, handed Remus a clipboard and pointed to a chair on the wall, and then, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder, he herded him through the door and down a hallway. He stopped at a small room to the right where there were several desks with chairs sitting empty and alone in the windowless room. Harry sat down and a parchment with numbered questions appeared in front of him. A quill was perched on a fresh ink bottle. "Mr. Potter, please write your name and the date on the test, answer all questions to the best of your ability, and do not skip any. You have thirty-two minutes, I'll be back to collect your paper then." The wizard bustled out the door, presumably of to another exam room with another person.
Precisely thirty two minutes later, the wizard came hastening back in, snatching the test in one hand, and grabbing Harry's wrist in his other. Harry was yanked out of the chair, shaking the desk and spilling the ink. He wrenched himself free from the anxious wizard's grasp and followed after the shorter man's back down the hall to a room with a sign indicating it was the 'Practical Testing Apparation Point'.
Half an hour later, Harry received his Apparation license and was on his way down the long corridor to the waiting room of the establishment. He scanned the waiting room for Remus, who had gone to run a few errands, and not seeing him, he sank into one of the chairs along the wall. The stressed out witch behind the desk looked up at him after a few minutes and remembered a message for him. "'Scuse me, Mr. Potter!" she hissed quietly, "Oi!" Harry looked up, "That man 'oo was wit choo, 'e's gone shopping, an 'e says for me to say 'meet choo back at the Leaky Cauldron'."
"Thanks ma'am." Harry muttered as he rose from his seat and ambled to the door. He pulled the handle and jogged down the steps and up Elfreth's Alley towards the noisy and lively street ahead that was Diagon Alley.