Chapter 14

"Accept the offer," Harry pleaded.

"Piss off, Potter." Mad Eye Moody yelled. "I've told you I'm not interested."

Harry slid down the wall outside the front of Moody's house in exhaustion. "Fine, I guess I'll give it to Tonks then."

"Funny," came the response from behind the door.

"What's so funny? Applegate's a nice guy but he's not leadership material and Tonks is the only other person I trust to take the position."

The door cracked open. "She's only been an Auror for two years. What's she know about running a department?"

Harry leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "Probably not a thing, but I can trust her not to stab me in the back."

He could almost hear Moody's teeth grinding then the door opened. "One year -- that's all. After that I name my replacement and retire for good."

Harry lifted his hands in the air. "Deal."

The Department of Magical Law Enforcement had its new head, finally.

"The position comes with it's own home. If you want to oversee security measures that are put ..."

Moody slammed the door in Harry's face for the third time that afternoon. "Can't you take a hint, Potter? I agreed to be your Head. I'll be at work tomorrow. Now piss off."

Harry smiled and Apparated to the gates of Hogwarts. When he found his way back to the Defense Office he had just sat down behind his desk when a sharp knock interrupted his brief moment of silence.

"Come in."

He stretched a kink out of his back and watched as Pyotr Yudin entered his office with a stack of parchment of which Harry assumed was freshly graded papers.

"Pyotr, how are things?"

The young Russian set the papers on Harry's desk and stood up smartly. "Things, sir?"

Harry smiled. "The unimportant and important current events in your life. How are you doing? Is everything alright?"

"My apologies, sir. While I do understand the English language very well I sometimes have problems with your colloquiums." Pyotr nodded once. "My things are well."

Harry's smile widened. "Good to hear."

Pyotr gestured to the pile of papers. "The third-years are progressing nicely, sir."

"No thanks to me. If I didn't have your assistance, Pyotr I think I would have gone insane sometime late in November."

The Russian shook his head. "It is my honor, sir, though I do not perform this service free of charge."

Harry leaned back. "That time again, is it?"

"Da, Professor."

Harry held out his hand to the chair in front of his desk and Pyotr took a seat, although somewhat stiffly. "So what question do you have for me this month?"

The sixth-year transfer student looked down to his hands seemingly to avoid Harry's eyes. "My choice is a personal one, sir."

Harry's smile turned serious and firm. "That was our agreement, Pyotr."

The Russian finally met Harry's eyes. "Your friends, sir," he began and then rethought his delivery. "I never understood why my parents, in their chosen profession ... " His lips thinned in frustration at his inability to properly form the question. "Why would they ... I thought perhaps you might be able to enlighten me as to how you were able to live with the constant danger to those you held close."

Understanding passed through Harry's mind. "Pyotr, are you asking me why your parents got married and had you, knowing that it was a possibility that one or both of them might die?"

The Russian breathed a sigh of relief. "Da, Professor Potter."

Harry steeped his fingers together. "That's an easy one to answer, but not necessarily to understand," he began. "My close circle of friends weren't always my close circle of friends." Harry smiled widely. "In fact I didn't much care for my wife when we first met."

Pyotr's eyebrow arched in curious surprise.

"It was in our first year that Ron Weasley and I came to her rescue that we became friends. We stayed friends because of our mutual interests and our first encounter with Voldemort."

Harry's chair swiveled a little until a ray of sunlight coming though a window caught his eye. "We didn't know ... or didn't care until much later the next year that Voldemort seem to have it in for me and that he could get to me through my friends.

"It wasn't until my fifth year, when my godfather was killed in a trap set by the snake-faced bastard, that reality set in for me. I was killing those closest to me by only being associated with them."

Harry paused in reflection before continuing. "I was all set to run far away from anyone that ever meant anything to me when Hermione found me and explained why that was such a bad idea. Her explanation at the time was that running away wouldn't have helped anything. It would only weaken their position that much more. But after I thought about it for a while I think it was another reason I stayed.

"My friends weren't my friends because they helped me defeat Voldemort. They were my friends because we had stuck by each other for so long, because we held up our ideals and our friendship above all else. We believed in each other and that was one thing Voldemort didn't have ... trust and love."

Pyotr seemed more confused than ever.

"I can't tell why your parents married and decided to have you, Pyotr, but I can tell you when Hermione and I decide to have a family we won't let fear dictate how we live our lives."

The Russian sat tall. "My parents were brave people, Professor. I think they would have agreed with you."

A sharp tapping at the window behind Harry interrupted their conversation. He leaned over and undid the lock, swinging the window wide to let in a flame colored Short Eared owl. After retrieving the letter clasped firmly between its beak Harry watched as the owl retreated to the sill and back out the window.

Your presence is requested at the entrance to Gringotts Wizarding Bank, Serenity, Scotland.

Respectfully,

High Senior Goblin Motlock

Harry raised his eyebrows in confusion. He wasn't expecting anymore contact with the Goblins until the grand opening of the bank the following week.

"Excuse me Pyotr. I'm being called away on business."

The young Russian stood stiffly and nodded. "Of course, sir."

The Serenity Floo Network was in its infancy stage, only connecting to certain key figures occupying the growing council, of which Harry was a part. His personal floo and that of his office were connected to the communal Apparition and Floo point in located in the center of town. After arriving he made his way to the northern part of the valley instead of Apparating the short distance so that he could take in a visual inspection of the growing township.

Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was one of the first aboard, taking advantage of the homestead advantage Harry had initiated for the business owners not to mention the prime location, directly in front of the Apparation point so as to be the first business that was seen upon arrival. The storefront was still in construction, but he could see a number of red heads moving around inside the shoppe lugging boxes and so forth.

With the imminent move, Finnybulb Blott, formerly of Flourish and Blott's, sold his portion of the business to his partner, as he was one of a select group that did not agree with what Harry was doing; taking extreme offense at the notion of being forced to move or go bankrupt from lack of business. Stanford Flourish, being almost one hundred and twenty-seven, was (in his own words) not a 'young pup' anymore and had approached Harry early the previous week with a business proposal.

Stanford had no desire to fully pull himself out of the business as he had a considerable desire to remain financially comfortable in his retirement years. He wanted only to leave the day-to-day operations and take on a more upper management type of role behind the scenes. In doing so he needed a partner; someone who would drop in from time to time and check up on the staff that he had hired to operate the bookstore.

Harry remembered smiling deviously and took Stanford up on his offer, on one condition: that the name be change to Flourish and Granger. Thus Harry had secured Hermione's first Christmas present of the year.

The rest of the businesses were coming along nicely, Harry noted as he proceeded along the expansive marketplace. The street was exceptionally wide, bordered on either side by businesses. Down the center of the street a mishmash of benches, trees, notice boards, and other sundry embellishments filled in the empty space.

Harry increased his pace when he caught the gathering crowd of Goblins at the end of the street, looking his way. He recognized a few faces among the crowd as bank employees that had occasionally conferred with him regarding the township requirements. He nodded in recognition and strode at a much slower pace through the crowd until he reached the head Goblin.

Harry nodded in a more formal fashion. "High Senior Motlock. I received your owl."

The Goblin leaned heavily on a short walking stick. "Thank you for arriving so promptly." He paused and looked around. "Grumnak!"

Motlock's assistant stepped out from behind Harry. "Here, High Senior."

Motlock nodded tiredly. "Proceed with the ceremony. Mr. Potter if you will accompany me to the front of the structure we will finalize our efforts."

Wonder crept into Harry's mind at the High Senior's request. "I wasn't aware that I was needed anymore."

Motlock chuckled rather raspy. "Two things are needed from you this afternoon, Mr. Potter."

Harry climbed the stairs slowly as to stay in step with the High Senior. When underneath the large portico leading to the entrance of to the new bank he noticed an unfinished portion centered directly before the divide of the doors; a circle of marble was left detached in the floor.

"What can I do?" replied Harry.

Grumnak stepped to the opposite side of the large hole and opened the tattered tome he was carrying. "All Goblins present, Mr. Potter have given of themselves today in ceremony for the security of the structure and its contents behind me. As oath brother to the Goblins and creator of this township we request that you seal the enchantments upon this ground."

Harry turned to Motlock. "I'd be honored."

Motlock smiled sleepily. "Thank you, Mr. Potter. The ceremony is best performed between brothers of blood and you are my only surviving brother."

Harry blinked and then looked around at the hundreds of Goblins, the grim look decorating their faces, and then back to the High Senior. Something did not seem right about the situation, but he couldn't figure it out at the moment.

"What do I need to do?"

Motlock looked up. "You will add a single drop of your blood to that of the others in the bottom of this hole in the concavity."

Grumnak handed Harry a small pin for the procedure.

"Sounds easy enough."

He pricked a finger and held it over the hole and watched as a single red drop fell into the darkness below then he retracted his hand and passed the pin back to Grumnak.

"And the second part?"

Grumnak then withdrew the ceremonial knife that Harry recognized from the Blood Oath ritual he and Motlock participated in months before. The High Senior stepped forward to the hole and passed his walking stick to another Goblin.

Grumnak looked down at the tome and began reading. For Harry's benefit Motlock translated the reading from the original Goblin language that Grumnak was reciting.

"Seal in security this building and all it guards against those that would dishonor. Seal in blood those that seek to thieve, those that covet the riches of others. Seal in body the sacrifice that is made this day forevermore with brotherhood."

Sacrifice?

Grumnak handed the blade to Motlock as he bared his wrists.

"Wait," Harry sputtered.

Motlock's held the blade along his own wrist. "I will perform the rite on one wrist, Mr. Potter, you the other." He paused and coughed. "Then I will be sealed underneath the structure, protecting it and the contents therein."

Harry almost backed away before he realized he was blocked by the press of Goblin bodies against his back. "B … buried alive?"

Motlock smiled widely, baring his pointy teeth. "Not for long, Mr. Potter. Not for long."

"I can't," Harry said. "I can't kill you."

The blade wavered for a moment the Motlock continued. "I am already dead, Mr. Potter. Grumnak will succeed me as High Senior this evening. I am old and very near death. Do me the honor of ending my sickness this day in a way that a true Goblin desires … in protection of something that will mean something to him."

Harry looked from side to side at the grim features of the attending Goblins.

"What we have built here, in Serenity, Mr. Potter is the future of our combined races. I can think of no more honorable or no more meaningful way to end my life. Can you?"

Motlock slid the sharp blade along his wrist and Harry watched as the blood welled up and spilled into the hole. The Goblin gasped and when his breath returned he handed the knife to Harry.

"It was an honor to make you my brother in blood, Harry Potter."

He held out his wrist and Harry grasped it gingerly while looking into the gray-green Goblin's eyes.

"The honor is mine, High Senior Motlock."

"Proceed," rasped the Goblin.

Harry laid the sharp edge along the wrist of his Goblin advisor and drew it quickly across. Seconds afterward High Senior stepped into the hole and disappeared in a shower of light and sparks. Grumnak retrieved the blade and to Harry's discernment, licked along its length, removing the remaining blood. Thereafter he closed the tome and motioned forward to the other Goblins.

A circle of marble levitated from the crowd and settled itself over the hole, lowing and with a red glow along its edge, sealed itself to the rest of the surrounding marble seamlessly.

Harry's hand flew to his mouth as his stomach surged with turmoil. Grumnak stepped forward, on top of the now sealed hole. "You must keep what you have seen secret, Harry Potter, against those that are not in attendance this day, under pain of a wasting death." He handed Harry a sealed letter. "This is from Motlock … his last request of you and the first request from myself."

A movement from the Goblins at his back made Harry turn. He discovered a pathway had been made for him back to the center of town of which he nearly took at a run, feeling all along the way the touch of every Goblin. When he reached the end of the line he Apparated to the Center of town and Flooed to his office and immediately sealed the doors therein.

Harry nearly made it to the waste bin as his stomach heaved and emptied its contents. He fell to his knees and grasped the waste bin, shaking in revulsion at what he had done before he noticed the blood on his hand. He jumped and slid away, holding the hand out in horror and anguish. His other hand reflexively fumbled inside his robes for a handkerchief to wipe away the High Senior's remnants with great fervor.

Tears blinded his vision momentarily before he reigned himself in and closed his eyes against the vision replaying itself in his mind.

Time passed with an occasional knock on the door and the return of a call to let him be until the voice of his wife eventually came. Harry muttered the Unlocking Charm allowing Hermione into his inner sanctum.

Seeing her husband in obvious pain she fell to her knees beside him. "Harry?"

He pulled her into a tight embrace and shivered in her warmth.

"What happened?" she begged into his chest.

Remembering the last words of Grumnak regarding the issue of secrecy he offered, "I can't tell you. I'm sworn to secrecy."

Hermione pulled away with a furrowed brow. Her eyes searched him and fell to the floor and the bloodied handkerchief. "Are you injured? Should I fetch Madam Pomfrey?"

He shook his head and dropped it in a reserved posture. "It's not my blood."