Chapter 12

"Do you ever leave this office?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore looked up from his endless supply of parchmentwork. "Harry, do come it. Registered as an Enchanter I hear?"

"Yes, Sir."

He smiled briefly under his flowing silver beard. "Kingsley flooed and sends his apologies for a serious misunderstanding. He said he would have spoken to you directly however you seemed to be in a bit of a snit when you left."

"A misunderstanding? Is that what he's calling it when you ambush someone who's following directions?" Then Harry shook his head to dismiss the subject. "That's not what I'm here to talk about -- at least not in whole."

Dumbledore held out a hand to the armchair in front of his desk and then crossed his hands together, in front of him on the desk.

Harry felt the old uneasiness return to the pit of his stomach from whenever he came to Dumbledore with a problem.

"Is this in regard your rather controversial speech to your fourth-years?"

Harry nodded. "In part."

The headmaster looked like he was chewing on the inside of his lip. "Let me see: Partly because of the ruling Prue-blood class and partly because of Ministry interference in your life. Hmm."

Harry closed his eyes and laughed to himself at Dumbledore's fascination for puzzling problems. He watched as the wrinkles of his face deepened slightly and his eyes drew back to his own.

" I have reached two disturbing conclusions, Harry."

"Yes, Sir?"

"Either you and Hermione will be leaving us very soon or you will be staying and doing something very disquieting."

Harry pursed his lips and nodded. "It depends on your reaction, Sir. Whether you are with us or against us."

"Is there no middle ground, Harry?"

"No, Sir."

"I see."

Dumbledore opened his candy dish and withdrew a lemon drop, popping it in his mouth.

"What is your proposal?"

Harry straightened in his chair. "I've started the process of buying all of the land surrounding Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. By tomorrow I will have interviews with a number of people in the magical community and I plan on bringing a number of residents and businesses to this area."

"You are staging an economic coup of the Ministry of Magic." Dumbledore concluded.

Harry hadn't thought about it that way but he agreed with the definition. "Yes, Sir."

The headmaster rose from his chair and turned to Fawkes, picking up a treat and feeding the colorful Phoenix. Harry leaned back in his chair now that the revelation was unveiled, and gave the old wizard time to think his wizened thoughts.

Several minutes passed as Dumbledore paced the floor seemingly coming to one conclusion and then reversing himself a number of times. Eventually he stopped and turned to Harry.

"Tell me your plan."

He recounted the conversation that the Order of the Dog Star had only a short time ago, minus the names. He wanted Dumbledore to know that this was his idea and nobody else's until he found out what side his mentor was on.

He found his chair again and sat in behind the desk as Harry finished the ideas that were brought up.

"An intriguing idea, Harry. And what is your reasoning behind the coup?"

Here was the most important portion of the conversation and Harry knew it. "Sir, the wizarding community has been stagnant for thousands of years. A large portion of the laws that have been enacted are those that would benefit the ruling class with no thought as to what the average wizard's needs are.

"In return the teachings and laws encourage ill feelings toward one portion of the community or the other, giving rise to the notion that in order to be someone you must possess either money, power, or pure wizarding blood. Usually all three. My plan is to put the power back into the hands of the common wizard, and not have any ruling board in charge for any long length of time.

"The Ministry only elects a new minister if the old one dies, is fired, or quits. It leaves too much room for corruption. The Wizengamot is mostly comprised of Witches and Wizards that have gotten bogged down in tradition, money, and laws as to be unchangeable for simplicities sake. It needs new blood and a lot of it, and not just Pure-blood."

He took a deep breath and continued.

"Like it or not, true Prue-bloods are coming to an end lest they desire mating with their own brothers and sisters, and that has to be reflected in the leadership. Muggleborns, Half-bloods, and Prue-bloods all need to be in the ruling council. This will happen no other way than with a revolt of one kind or another. "

Dumbledore interrupted. "And you will be in charge of this new world order?"

Harry stopped and thought about it for a moment. "Yes and no. In your own words to me in my sixth year. I will be the catalyst. Once a sufficient number of families and businesses have been brought in to actually make a difference, the community would hold regular elections to the limited government with limited terms of office."

"And what of the Current Ministry of Magic and Wizengamot?" Dumbledore asked.

"What about them?"

"Do you think they will idly sit buy and let you take away their power, their businesses, and their way of life?"

"I'm not concerned about them. This will be accomplished by the will of the people. If it's their will that they wish things to stay the same and not take me up on my offer then Hermione and I will leave."

Dumbledore considered. "And lastly, Harry. Why come to me?"

"Because, Sir. You of all people know what a mess the Ministry is in. Kingsley, while a nice guy and a good Auror is not a very efficient Minister. In the year that he has been in charge have you seen any significant change in our way of life?

"I'm not saying he's corrupt, but he doesn't seem to have the power to change the policies that need changing. You know I'm right and you have the courage to stand behind me while this is going on. You are right in saying the Ministry, the Wizengamot, and the current ruling class will not stand by while their livelihood and powerbase is threaded. But between us, as leaders in this new idea, I think we will be able to prevent them from strong-arming us through threats of imprisonment or worse."

Dumbledore nodded. "It is indeed the 'worse' that I am worried about."

Harry thought he had lost, that Dumbledore would say that he wasn't going to go along with his idea and a pang of regret sat in his stomach at having to leave the only home he had known for over six years.

"Very well. Proceed with your acquisitions and your plans. I will see what I may accomplish from behind the scenes, as it were, for the time being. We will need the acquiescence of the current professors for their continuation in with their positions at Hogwarts. And I will contact those in power that think as we do on the matter. I will not promise you that we will be successful. However I do believe it is the proper course of action that will possibly save our race from ourselves."

Harry walked with new determination and conviction back to his rooms for the evening and was not too surprised to find Hermione with her head in the fireplace talking to Rita Skeeter. When she heard Harry enter she said her goodbyes and pulled her head back out.

"Saturday, I've booked a private room at the Hogshead, Luna left a few minutes ago and she said her father will be there as well. I'll put my studies off for tomorrow to contact the Diagon Alley Business Council and also someone for some legal advice."

He smiled and stepped into a small hug. "Dumbledore's in -- well after he convinces the staff, but like Ron said, they'll follow him."

She nodded. "Probably. I can't think of anyone who'll go against, except maybe for Snape."

Harry pulled back. "I didn't think about that. Since the war's over he won't have any loyalty to Dumbledore except as a friend."

He started a pace across the floor. "Snape would throw this whole thing just to spite me. We got to move faster." He looked at his watch. "I've got thirty minutes before Diagon Ally shuts down."

He grabbed his cloak and threw it around his shoulders. Hermione looked confused. "You're going now?"

He nodded. "I've got to get to Gringotts before they close."

"Why Gringotts?"

"They're the cornerstone. They control all of the money and if I can get them to move then the rest should follow."

She stopped him and gave his cheek a kiss. "Good luck."

He smiled back. "I've got you. It's all I the luck I ever wanted."

Hermione gave him a knowing smile and her cheeks reddened slightly. "I'll be waiting for you."

He grabbed a pinch of Floo Powder and stepped into the fire. "Keep your mirror handy in case I need you." At that he threw the powder into the fire and called. "Diagon Alley!"

He popped out of the community fireplace and started an all out run to the tall white marble building near the end of the street. There weren't many people doing their shopping this late, which made dodging them that much easier until he bounded up the steps to the entrance being held open by the door-goblin.

Harry stepped to the first open teller. "Who's in charge around here?"

The teller gave him a condescending glance. "That would be our head teller."

He shook his head. "No I mean who's in charge?"

"Your name?"

Harry pushed up his bangs to show his lightning bolt scar. "My name is Harry Potter and it is very very important that I speak to the highest ranking Goblin possible."

"Have a seat Mr. Potter. I will see if the bank President is available."

He saw a few chairs nearby and chose one, sitting and thinking very hard about how he was going to convince a pack of Goblins to pick up and move across the country. "Bloody impossible."

The excursion of the day was starting to take it's toll on his eyes and he took off his glasses and rubbed them furiously.

"Mr. Potter."

The voice took him by surprise. When he replaced his glasses he looked up to see the teller he spoke to only a minute before.

"Yes."

"Follow me please."

The Goblin lead him behind the counter and through a series of doors and down an long hallway to a flat closed off wall. He drew a taloned finger down and across the wall leaving a silver trail of light behind until the wall broke apart and reformed much like the wall that separated Diagon Alley from the leaky Caldron.

In the room beyond sat a very old looking Goblin behind a very large and dark desk with a mound of parchment book-ending either side of the desk. He didn't look in the best of moods, but neither did any other Goblin he had ever seen.

"Mr. Potter," he opened with a exceedingly raspy voice. "I was told you have important business."

"Yes, Sir. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice."

The Goblin eyed Harry and arched it's eyebrow.

"Have a seat. Grumnak, coffee. Something to drink, Mr. Potter?"

Harry nodded. "Coffee would be fine, thank you."

The old Goblin chuckled softly. "I'm afraid our coffee differs somewhat from the human brand."

He paused at looking at him. "I'll drink whatever you're having."

"Very well," he said with a smile. "I am High Senior Goblin Motlock,"

"Pleasure to meet you sir."

Motlock didn't offer his hand so neither did Harry.

"Please forgive me. I'm not familiar with Goblin hierarchy. History of Magic was never my strongest subject."

Motlock chuckled again. "There are five of us that stand on the Senior Council we govern Goblin owned businesses, and relations with wizards." He said the last with more than a little distain and Harry jumped all over it.

"Am I to understand that you don't think much of wizards."

He sneered slightly. "Mr. Potter, if you have taken anything away from you History of Magic classes you must have know about the number of wars we have fought with your kind."

He remembered being bored to tears at the number of times Professor Binns droned on about the Goblin Wars. "I have a decent idea."

"It was only the last war that we reached an agreement that allowed us some status in your community."

"Some status ... you mean you aren't considered equals?"

Motlock frowned, which for a Goblin is somewhat of a scary sight. "We watch your money and profit from hold it. We build your broomsticks and we profit from it."

The broomstick thing was news to Harry.

"But that's it?"

The old Goblin nodded.

"I think we might have much in common, High Senior Motlock."

Before Harry continued Grumnak returned with the coffee and poured two cups of some really dark liquid that did not resemble any type of coffee that he had ever seen.

"Continue, Mr. Potter your business will stay in this room, I assure you."

Harry looked down at the spotless, gleaming floor and back up. "How would you like a standing in the wizarding community as unconditional equals?"

Grumnak dropped the spoon he was stirring with and looked up at Harry. Harry followed his eyes as they looked at the High Senior. Apparently common interest was found.

"Forgive me, Mr. Potter. With what status of power do you hold to be able to grant such a boon?"

Harry interlaced his fingers and leaned forward. "No power whatsoever, High Senior."

Motlock looked like he was seriously considering throwing Harry out of the bank.

"If you'll give me a moment to explain ..."

Motlock nodded.

"In the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic is a fountain. A wizard, witch, centaur, house-elf, and a goblin are the center pieces. It is called the Fountain of Magical Brethren. When I first saw it I thought how unlike the magical world it really was. From what I know of centaurs they would most likely spit on a wizard than be akin to one. House-elves live in servitude and from what you tell me of goblins, you aren't much better off."

Motlock raised his bushy eyebrow once more. "Your point, Mr. Potter?"

"I want to make that fountain a reality, High Senior."

Before he could be interrupted again, Harry continued. "I'm about to purchase all the land I can around the Hogsmeade and Hogwarts, I will convince all the businesses I can to move their stores by giving them land and building them a magical community who's sole purpose is just that ... a community. No wizards, no witches, no Pure-bloods, no Mudbloods, no rich, no poor; a place where we will make our own law and put the Ministry of Magic out of business."

Motlock's intense gaze never wavered from Harry's. "Grumnak, The ledger of Mr. Potter's account. Alert acquisitions their presence is ordered."

The junior goblin almost dashed out of the room.

"Mr. Potter, without looking at the ledger I can tell you that you are have one of the largest accounts here at Gringotts. However what you are proposing will cost a substantial amount of money."

Harry smiled. "There is something that a lot of people don't know about, High Senior."

"And what is that, Mr. Potter."

"I have just registered at the Ministry of Magic today as an Enchanter, and from what I've been told, a fairly powerful one."

Motlock's mouth stretched wide with a substantial and very toothy grin. Harry didn't know whether to pull his wand or make a run for it. Two Goblins entered the room in a rather fast pace. Grumnak place a large black tome in front of the High Senior and the second Goblin stood by the desk looking interested in the proceedings.

"Gurnst, begin calculations for all unincorporated and unused residential property within a twenty mile radius of the village of Hogsmeade and Hogwarts School."

The second goblin left the room and Harry stared on. Twenty miles? "Um ..."

"Yes, Mr. Potter?" Motlock said as he perused Harry's ledger.

"You think twenty miles is a bit much?"

"The future, Mr. Potter ... the future."

"Erm ... okay."

"I see your account has increased recently. I suppose it was all that business with the latest dark lord."

"Pardon?" Harry leaned forward to see what he was talking about.

"Rewards and such for the escaped Azkaban prisoners and the Dark Lord himself have been deposited in your account. Were you unaware?"

Harry shook his head. "I really don't think much about my account, High Senior. Since my parents left me enough to live off of as I attend Hogwarts and with the death of my Godfather ... well I just saw a mountain of gold in my vault and assumed I wouldn't have any money problems for a while."

Motlock looked up from the ledger with disbelief in his eyes. "You are not aware of what your family's monetary worth is?"

Harry's ears started burning. "Um ... no."

The old Goblin marked his place in the tome and turned it sideways so Harry could see how thick it actually was, approximately two inches. He pinched off about ten or so pages. "This was your parents original account, then he pinched off about a inch worth of parchment. "This is with the addition of the Black Family Estate and all of it's holdings: retail, business, and muggle investments."

"Hold on -- the Blacks had Muggle investments? I thought they were Prue-blood this and Pure-blood that."

Motlock grinned and chuckled again. "Mr. Potter, money is money, the world over. And what better way to have power over Muggles than to own them and everything they have as well."

Harry shrugged. "Well when you put it that way ..." His eyes went back down to the ledger. "So, um ..."

"Ah, yes."

There was about another inch left in the ledger.

"A good portion of what is left are legal documents, deeds of ownership, etcetera. Granted, most of your money is in investments around the world, Magical and Muggle alike. The liquid assets you hold is what is in your family vault. Your ready-cash so to speak comes to a little over 250 million Galleons, not including precious jewels and anything of a personal nature that might be included, off the books."

Harry reached for his coffee and took a large mouthful swallowing in a single gulp before he realized what he was drinking. His throat seized and he coughed at the intense burning trailing down his throat and wheezed in as much air as he could.

Grumnak poured a glass of water that accompanied the tray and handed it to Harry. Before he finished the glass his senses were tingling and he felt more energetic than he had ever felt before in his life.

His face felt like it was going to explode and his eyes watered until he couldn't see through the tears.

Someone handed him a handkerchief and he blotted at his eyes. Someone else was laughing in the background and it took him a moment before he could see enough to notice it was Motlock."

"I can honestly say in my 385 years of life I have never seen a Wizard that could do more than sip at Goblin coffee, and you drank half the cup. I like you, Mr. Potter."

Harry tried to smile but wound up coughing again and tried desperately to drink some more water. He had composed himself by the time Gurnst had returned laying a single piece of parchment in front of the High Senior who in turn began to study the figures.

"You are in luck, Mr. Potter. A large portion of the land that is underdeveloped is owned by several members of the Hogsmeade community not including the rather large mountain area approximately two miles west of the school which is owned by a single individual."

"Who's that?"

The goblin turn the parchment around and showed Harry. "Oddly enough, you are the owner, Mr. Potter."

Utter confusion sketched its way across Harry's face. "I own a mountain?"

The goblin nodded. "It seems as if a Phineas Nigellus Black had purchased it when he was headmaster of Hogwarts."

"Um ... cool."

"Indeed, this lowers the cost of the available land to approximately ten to fifteen million Galleons depending on what the bartered price will be. If you would like, Gringotts would be happy to negotiate the transaction for a minimal fee considering the use in which it would be put."

Harry nodded. "Sure."

"Gurnst. Top end price is fifteen million. Acquire the property in the name of Mr. Potter."

The acquisitions goblin nodded, took the sheet, and left.

"Grumnak. Make a copy of this ledger for Mr. Potter so that he may peruse his assets at his leisure."

When his assistant left, Motlock leaned forward. "Now we will speak of this community of yours, Mr. Potter."

He was all business.

"In order for you to attract a proper amount of citizenry, industry, and business you will need a better incentive than community harmony."

Harry frowned. "I realize that. Do you think money would work?"

The goblin's bushy eyebrows shot up. "What do you have in mind?"

"What sort of taxes do you pay out to the Ministry?"

To a goblin this was very personal information and Harry realized it the moment he asked the question. But Motlock considered for a moment.

"Twenty-three percent of net profits are taken by the Ministry every quarter."

Harry nodded. "And the amount of interest the average depositor receives? "

"Three point two-three-seven percent."

He threw a number out in the air. "Since I have no idea how much it costs to run the Ministry and I plan on cutting out a number of departments ... how about we say for starters for you to double the amount of interest to your depositors and we'll decrease your taxation to five to ten percent. And that five to ten percent, after salaries are paid to staff will go to community improvements."

Motlock blinked and it looked as if he was going to start twitching. "Mr. Potter, do you know what you are saying?"

Harry nodded. "I'm saying once the bills are paid and a small amount goes into the community you can keep what ever you earn. I mean it's not anyone's money but yours, right? What right does the Ministry have to take it away without your permission?"

Motlock kept staring at him.

"And if you have the people to spare if you wouldn't mind figuring out how much it actually take to run the Ministry and all the other stuff, we can make a deal."

The goblin stood and limped around the desk to stand before Harry. "Mr. Potter, you would trust us to do these things for you and reward us with the compensation you spoke of?"

Something wasn't sitting right in Harry's mind. "Is there a reason I shouldn't? Once we begin you'll be on the same broomstick with me. It seems that anything that would happen to the community would affect the goblins as well, so you have a strong interest to make sure it works too. I don't expect anything will be written in stone at first until we are up and running, but I trust you to help as well as expect help from me."

The old goblin peered into the eyes of the young man sitting before him. "Grumnak!"

The assistant stuck his head through the door.

"The blade, Grumnak."

He disappeared and Harry started to become very uneasy at the smile Motlock was giving him.

"Mr. Potter are you familiar with the Goblin's Oath?"

"Um ... no, Sir."

Grumnak returned with a large ceremonial silver knife.

"It is very simple, Mr. Potter. Your word is your bond. If you break the bond then you die a slow and very painful death. Will you take this bond with me, now?"

"Wha -- um -- what kind of oath?"

Motlock dragged the sharp point across his own palm, blood welled up and started to pool in his hand. "A bond of friendship and community, Mr. Potter. That we will never deceive one another regarding the plans we make to change the face of the magical community."

He handed the knife to Harry, hilt first and he paused for a second then drew the tip across his own palm mirroring Motlock's. He winced and drew a sharp breath at the pain it caused.

Grumnak took the blade and Motlock grabbed Harry's bloody hand, squeezing it roughly. "We are brothers in blood and oath now, Harry Potter. Our words are our bond and will never be questioned in the future again."

Harry gasped at the burning of his hand as their blood mingled, until Motlock released him. Grumnak handed him a lace kerchief which he blotted at the blood to find out how much of his hand had been burned away, only to find that it was free from injury as before he made the cut.

Motlock grabbed a coffee cup. "Now we drink!"

It was almost midnight before Harry had returned to Hogwarts. Hermione was a nervous wreck sitting in front of the fireplace clutching a cup of something when he stepped out of the fireplace.

"Thank Merlin you're safe ... Harry, what's wrong with you?"

His hands were shaking as he clutched a large tome similar to the one in Motlock's office.

"Erm ... Goblin coffee ... drank ... a lot."

Hermione's eyes went wide. "Harry? Goblin coffee isn't coffee."

He looked around at the living room. "I think I'm going to be awake for the rest of my life."

She took the tome and led him to the study setting it and him down. "Did everything go okay?"

He nodded and tried to stop his head from continuing. Hermione tried not to giggle at his jitters, but failed miserably.

"It's -- not -- fu-- fu -- funny."

She pulled his head to her breast. "I know, Harry. I know."

Hermione turned her head and looked at the tome. "What's this?"

Harry took a calming breath. "Our account." He was quite proud of himself for actually getting a sentence out without stammering."

"This big thing?"

He tried not to nod, knowing he'd regret it later. "Uh-huh."

"You poor thing. Let me see if I can help you." She pulled out her wand. "I'm going to try a Sleeping Charm and see if that counteracts the effects of the coffee.

"Any -- thing."

"Morphean!"

Harry felt a lurch in his chest and a sudden need to close his eyes briefly. "Oh, my god, thank you."

He almost felt normal again, but still somewhat strung out on the powerful beverage.

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