Chapter 3: Project Mayhem
She was now in bed in the room she shared with Ginny. She was thinking intensely about Harry. Mr Weasley was going to bring him tomorrow to the Burrow.
She had so many questions. She had read the books he had sent. The first was history of mathematics. The second book was far more puzzling, on the cover stood: "The Origin, by Harry Potter". It had no words, instead it had million-colour fluorescent fractal images on every page, and colours on each page moved in kaleidoscopic manner as the pages were turned.
After some minutes of the intense thinking, her eyes closed. She suddenly felt smell of sea and summer breeze on her face. She quickly opened her eyes, and instead of being in bed, she was lying on a beach. It was dark, but there was some light close to where she was, and she could see sand and sea. Upon checking, she found the light was coming from her. Her entire body was transparent, and her spine and nervous system were shining. She looked like the first apparition of Dr Manhattan.
She recognized the place. It was the beach in France where her most memorable episode of accidental magic had happened.
Her thoughts of how she had arrived there were interrupted by a guitar and singing.
Sounds of laughter shades of life are ringing
Through my open ears inciting and inviting me
Limitless undying love which shines around me like a million suns
It calls me on and on across the universe
Jai guru deva, om
Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world
Jai guru deva
Jai guru deva
Jai guru deva
Jai guru deva
Jai guru deva
Jai guru deva…
She turned her head quickly and saw Harry Potter lying in a hammock, playing a guitar, and singing. Harry was also glowing, and the colour of his light changed with music, but unlike hers his body looked normal.
Hermione suffered a tsunami of questions: Where was she? What happened to her? Is this a dream? Is this really Harry? Why is Harry here?... She had no idea he could play an instrument, why hadn't he played ever at Hogwarts?...
As he finished his song, Harry lifted his eyes and noticed her arrival, he jumped from the hammock and hugged still frozen Hermione, seemingly unphased that she was transparent.
"Hi, Hermione! Good to see you could come here! It means you read the books, at least the important one…"
The hug felt like real Harry, and her sensations were full not the usual muted sensations of a dream, and that helped unfroze Hermione a bit.
"Where are we? Is this France? Why are we here? How can you say this is me just by looking at my nervous system? ..."
"This is your Origin Hermione, this is your subconsciousness' replica of the place it associates with your magic. The book I gave you has pictures which instruct subconsciousness how to find this place."
"If this is my Origin, how come you are here? You don't feel like a product of my imagination, you feel like real Harry."
"Well… The complete answer is a long story, a very, very long story… Of course, here we have all the time in the world, but I'm digressing here and risking confusing you more… The short answer is I had managed to find my Origin. Spending time in your Origin will help you understand the true nature of magic, especially if you try to draw parallels between the sensations you get here and the sensations you feel when you cast special spells, like for example the Patronus charm."
Harry was confident, if he was able to figure it in four years, Hermione would figure it in four months.
"However, a better question is why am I here? The answer is: first to greet you and give you a little tour guide, since it is I who sent you the invitation to this place, second so we could have a private conversation about a very sensitive subject. In fact the subject is so sensitive, that the previous person who acted openly about it was declared Enemy of State and Dark Lady, and died in Azkaban.
Hermione, if I asked you to view arithmancy through the optics of what you learned about math? ..." he let Hermione think about the question.
"Yes, Harry, I did notice that arithmancy is renaissance math…"
"And if I told you that if the arithmancy formula used for muggleborn detection had been more accurate, it would have detected your parents? …"
Was he trying to imply what she thought he was? If so, he could not be right, there had been many muggleborn wizards and witches before her, there were many halfbloods with good connections in muggle world, someone would have tested that theory?...
"Hermione, wizards and witches are perfectly content with the status quo, be it the one concerning muggles, or the one concerning magical beings. They are not going to do any research which might disturb that. That's why there is no science of magic, but we could change that…"
Hermione did sudden deep intake and started to cough. Also, since the beginning of their conversation, she had noticed Harry's Keith-Richards-esque gesticulations while he spoke (was guitar playing getting to his mind), and she dared to ask: "Harry, are you high?"
"Well, yes Hermione, as a matter of fact, I am… some midgets on level 26 are celebrating Black Cloud their new god and saviour – even if the process of salvation was rather painful for them, but Dr Fraiser will help them with that… Oh God, the Ori are such drug addicts… I'll need help with my project, or I'll end up completely sloshed for all eternity."
…
That change was natural, was a muggle concept. To wizards, magic was there to ensure that the best of all possible worlds would go on forever. And most wizards believed it was indeed the best of all the worlds; they were bossing around all other beings in the magical world. Dumbledore didn't like it, but he had to accept the sore truth – he just wasn't powerful enough, no one was. He could just give nudges here and there in the right direction.
A change in magical world required incredible power, either magical or financial, and accumulation of power usually didn't happen with good intentions.
So, when Dumbledore was greeted, upon entering the alley, with the sight of a working crew putting down the Gringotts sign and putting on the new name, something which had never happened before in all wizard history, under all Dark Lords and Ladies, first he did Cameron's scream, then he returned at a baffling speed for a man his age to the castle. Something huge was happening. He needed Remus' help to check the underworld. He would have to re-do all his plans. Please Merlin, don't let it be Voldemort.
…
The last weekend hadn't been good for Gandalf Griphook, and by Balrog's balls, in his opinion, this one wasn't so good either. The previous Friday he had been informed of his father's passing away.
Also, it had been the third time in a row he had been passed over for promotion, even if his test results, both practical and theory, had been perfect again. The problem was he couldn't prove his field experience, even if he was nephew of the great Zartog Griphook. There was no official document mentioning his presence on any of Zartog's expeditions. It was evident that the only position Gandalf would be allowed was as a cart-driver.
Because of his father's choice to pursue exploration of his outrageous theories, the once very respected Griphook family was now blacklisted as "human-friendly", only slightly better that the Flitwicks who were the lowest sham for they had been found guilty of bestiality.
Old goblins spoke of ancient times of legends when old and powerful magic had permeated the earth, and winds and rivers of magic had blown and flown over the lands. Strong and magnificent goblin cities had thrived and shined with thousand wonders.
The cities of dwarves had also been beautiful and mighty. Dragons had been sentient.
Then magic had stopped blowing and flowing over the lands, and only had remained some telluric currents of magic. Goblins and dwarves had abandoned their cities and had moved to the mines which were now their habitat. They were now bitter enemies because both species were trying to recover their former glory from the scarce magic currents which could be found only in the deepest galleries.
Dragons were now like horses, human pets, that is wizard pets. All magic creatures and beings were now wizard pets and resources for their magic and potions. Wizards were magic stealers. There was no concrete proof for that or there would be a global war of magical beings against wizards, but that was the most widespread belief among goblins.
However, that had not been what Zaphod Griphook had believed.
Griphook's father had been a scholar, interested in ancient history, both human (wizard and muggle alike) and goblin. He liked to read, particularly muggle books.
And then his father had discovered Tolkien. And suddenly all was clear: inside those books was the knowledge which would save the goblin nation, help them rediscover the true magic, help them get back in tune with the music of the Ainur. "See son, do you see it? The inscription on the ring, it is ancient goblin language!", he hadn't, no one else had seen it.
His father had disappeared, leaving only a note which had said that he had left the goblin society and his family so he could pursue his work at one of muggle universities. After that, Gandalf and his mother had been taken in by his uncle Zartog.
Now the dishonour to the Griphook's name was complete: his father had died among muggles and had been almost autopsied – which was narrowly avoided because someone from the hospital was a squib.
The last Friday Griphook had been called to his chief's office, given the news of his father's death, and had received his father's belongings. There was a series of notebooks and a strange pair of glasses with the word "spectrespecs" written on the temples.
Over the weekend Griphook had read the notebooks and cried profusely afterwards. The science of magic inside was beautiful and elegant, but completely useless to current goblin technology. Of course, there were notes how the technology could be adapted and improved, but no goblin authority would back any project which had the name Griphook associated with it.
And so, on Monday he had been back to his cart. While cleaning his cart at the end of his day, he had found a note saying: "Put the spectrespecs on, and follow the white rabbit", and beside those words was white Playboy logo and the name Annatar. "So, this note was left by someone with knowledge of muggle culture, possibly a friend of my father", thought Griphook.
Griphook had put the glasses on, and suddenly was able to see a white trail of magical energy.
He had followed it to the deepest galleries until he reached the end of the line. He had gotten out of the cart, and as he had touched the place where the trail ended, there had been a woosh sound and some stone rings appeared around him. There had been intense light, the feeling of movement, and then he had appeared in a dark room with illuminated hole in one of the walls. He had come close and looked inside the hole, and claws had sprung from the wall around his head to keep him in place while the knowledge had been loaded into his mind.
When it had been over, first he had fallen unconscious. When he had awoke, something in his mind had spoken and told how to use the rings to come back. When he had appeared back in the galleries, the guards had been waiting to take him into custody for interrogation.
As the matter had been of utmost importance, for his disappearance represented a breech of security, he had been interrogated in front of the High Council and the Great Khan himself.
He had told everything and poured the knowledge into memory crystals.
Someone from the Council had called him a liar and had jumped at him with a hidden dagger. Before any of the guards could had reacted, he had put up his palm reflexively as shield, and lightning had sprung from his palm and disintegrated the attacker.
When the commotion had been over, the Great Khan had stood up and spoken: "Gandalf Griphook, you are our greatest servant and the greatest servant of the Goblin Empire, and the greatness of your service is yet to be measured in all its glory. We say that the Griphook family should be given the title of zaibatsu. The Gringott zaibatsu will relinquish its title of the greatest food-bringer to the Griphook zaibatsu."
Those words had been spoken yesterday. Now he was sitting in the shogun's chair at the bank, looking through the window as the workers were positioning the Griphooks name over the bank.