The holidays were busy, but it was a good kind of busy.

There was the ball to organise, and renovations about to get underway in Avalon Castle. Hermione, Harry and Anneken had a lot of preparation to do for their court case against Dumbledore and there was one more issue that she had to attend to.

She'd contacted High King Ragnuk as soon as she'd made it home, her new screech owl carrying a request to meet. The goblin had replied almost immediately and Hermione had found herself scrambling to gather an appropriate party and make her way to Gringotts in time for the appointment.

The young High Priestess arrived in the bank via the same golden floo they'd used the last time. Lord Nott, Neville and Theo accompanied her. King Ragnuk was still accompanied by his six other kings and several female guards but the multitude of courtiers were elsewhere.

'News of your exploits reaches even the Goblin nations. We are gratified to hear that you have survived your trials.' Ragnuk said as he dipped his head. Hermione replied with a similar gesture.

'Your blade has taken it's first blood.'

'Excellent. What will you name her?' The Goblin's eyes gleamed.

'Fang. It has been imbued with the venom of a basilisk and shall be named to reflect that.' Hermione pronounced.

'An apt choice, Priestess. Why did you request a meeting?'

'I have found Avalon, and the wards have been lowered to permit your nation to reclaim your warren.' She announced proudly. The astounded silence that met her words suggested that Ragnuk hadn't actually anticipated her finding the island.

Then there was a furious babble of voices from the six kings before Ragnuk silenced them with a sharp slash of his clawed hand. The High King made some pronouncement in Gobbledegook too quick for Hermione's basic skills to catch, then turned back to them.

'I would see it.' Ragnuk pronounced.

'Does the nation have a portal?' Hermione asked them. Her question was met with hisses of outrage. One of the kings almost climbed up onto the table in an effort to attack her. Ragnuk jumped up as well, drawing his ceremonial jewelled hammer from his waistband and swung it across the king's face with a brutal crack. Green blood splattered across the table, misting Hermione's face. A globbet landed across the table on the record keeper's parchment and he looked up in annoyance.

Ragnuk growled something furiously, Hermione managed to pick out the words 'witchling' and 'honour', then two of the female guards got up and dragged the mutinously muttering goblin away.

'Apologies, Priestess. The destruction of the portals is still a sensitive topic to the nation. It happened many wixen lifespans ago.' The High King pulled a lacy handkerchief from his puffy doublet and handed it to her to wipe her face. Once she was done, he took it back and wiped his hammer clean.

'The Ministry of Magic destroyed many of them to stop the goblin movements during the first rebellion, as they cannot apparate.' Lord Nott muttered into her ear.

'Can we find out if there is a legal restriction on the goblins having access?' Hermione asked quickly.

'I do not believe there is. I will permit temporary access via the manor until a direct floo can be established.'

'Thank you.' Hermione turned back to Ragnuk. 'Lord Nott has permitted temporary use of his manor's floo and portal.'

'I would see it at the first opportunity.' The High King answered.

'We could go now?' Lord Nott suggested and Hermione shrugged.

'We can go to Avalon now but we ask that you bear with us. We have not yet had time to explore the island and much of it is in bad condition.'

The speed with which the goblin kings stood was testament to how excited they were about the island. Ragnuk was quick to follow, gesturing to several of the guards and issuing swift orders. The women sprinted off in a jingle of armour and hair chains.

Again, Lord Nott leaned down, muttering so quietly that Hermione could barely hear him despite his mouth being within inches of her ear

'Are you sure we can trust them? Avalon is a fortress and we are already making it vulnerable with the ball. Is letting the sworn enemies of wixen in truly wise?'

Hermione couldn't respond until they had passed through the floo and back to Nott Manor.

'I think that the goblins are fiercely intelligent and powerful allies. If they are given the appropriate respect and we establish clear expectations and rules, there is no reason that we cannot remain so.' Hermione replied and Lord Nott crossed his arms, clearly considering something.

At that moment, the floo roared and the first three goblin guards stepped though. A flare later and Ragnuk came with two kings.

'High King Ragnuk.' Lord Nott said with a bow. The goblin leader turned to him and inclined his head, a slight sneer marring his features.

'Lord Nott.'

'I apologise, on the behalf of my ancestors, for any slight the House of Nott may have committed by keeping goblin made items for ourselves. At the earliest convenience of the nation, perhaps these items could be returned to their rightful owners?'

For a moment the goblin king just blinked, then he laughed. It was a deep sound, like the croak of a frog and the bellow of a bull.

'The Nation appreciates the influence of the High Priestess. One of our banking chiefs will contact you and in return perhaps suggest some investment opportunities only available to the friends of the Goblins.'

The High King and the patriarch exchanged a nod and Lord Nott returned to Hermione's side. He shrugged slightly and she mouthed "see" at him.

Once the whole party was assembled, Lord Nott led the way out of the floo room and through the expansive gardens. It was a long walk and thankfully the goblins were fitter than their ridiculous renaissance costumes suggested. At least the track was dry and the scenery was charming - a carpet of wild garlic blanketed the woodland floor and the spicy smell of it's crushed leaves thickened the air. Above them, the tree canopy sheltered them from the heat of the afternoon sun and soft dappled light filtered through. The group split into two; the wixen at the front and the goblins following behind, each engaged in conversation in their own language.

Hermione and Ragnuk walked between the groups in awkward silence - formality meant that they couldn't part too decisively, but it also allowed very little small talk.

'Your court is promising, Priestess.' Ragnuk finally said as Neville and Theo tried to sneak garlic leaves down each other's robes. The young witch sighed, trying to figure out whether he was being sarcastic. 'You choose the strongest and smartest to stand by you without prejudice - admittedly many are young and even the old have much to learn, but wixen grow quickly.'

'Your quest to bring back the old ways is a noble one. The goblins have long practiced the rituals in secret but our magic is ill suited to casting. But the fall of the old ways was not unexpected; power blinded the great to the plight of the weaker. Do not let it corrupt you as it has those that came before you.'

'What do you mean?' Hermione demanded sharply. Ragnuk eyed her speculatively.

'The war between Merlin and the Gorlois sect cost thousands of muggle lives. They lost sight of their obligation to the people and their arrogance cost the lives of thousands of wixen.' Hermione opened her mouth to argue, by Ragnuk forged on relentlessly.

'The Baba Yaga separated themselves so completely from their people that they failed to notice the poverty and famine that was crippling their nation. The Delacour Coven were so distracted by international politics that they failed to notice the muggle conflict creeping into their own people and the Grindelwald Coven held such absolute and unyielding control over the German magical world that they fostered resentment among their own subjects.'

She had nothing to say. Hermione had never seen it that way but she realised she'd never really spoken to any of the common people in the European magical world. As Ragnuk had just said, she had no idea what life was really like for anyone outside her rather exclusive social group of coven children. If Lady Grindelwald had grown up the same way, did she actually know anyone outside the coven well enough to understand their life? The rigid social order meant that there was nobody outside of the wealthy coven who could really stand up and tell her when something was wrong.

But the electoral system of the ministry was hardly better. The ministers all came from a select group of politicians that were so far out of touch with the needs of the regular people that they still failed to accommodate for them, despite having the connections and background that Lady Grindelwald didn't. By definition, the only people that got far enough up the ladder to even run for minister were power hungry and bureaucratic with debts and ties to wealthy and interested parties that demanded their own corrupt policies. Then, the system of checks and stops made it almost impossible to pass through even the most necessary legislation in a reasonable amount of time...

They'd arrived at the portal and Hermione was pulled from further musing as she opened up the gate and led the party through.

The goblin's reacted with the same awe as everyone who visited the castle, with it's towering spires and glistening white stone. Hermione waved over the closest skeleton and asked to be guided down to the warren. Instead of taking them through the castle doors, the skeleton marched them to one of the smaller doors along the walls. As they got close, she realised that there was no handle or keyhole. The group paused, puzzled.

'At the bank, a goblin in the employ of the relevant branch must open the door by running his finger over the surface. Perhaps, as mistress of the castle, you will be permitted to open it?' Ragnuk suggested. Hermione shrugged, realising that there was a particularly glossy line stretching down the surface. She ran her finger down it and the door swung open under even that minimal pressure.

A long, dark staircase disappeared below them.

They climbed down, lighting their way with witchlights.

Hermione expected it to be dank and cold, but the temperature remained remarkably stable as they descended and a gentle breeze suggested the presence of ventilation charms.

The staircase began to curve gently around to the right before opening up into a wide hall carved out of solid grey stone. The walls were smooth and she noticed several stone sconces carved up above their heads. She lit them with a thought and light flared along the long corridor until it passed beneath an ornate archway and bloomed into a massive circular chamber.

Stepping through the archway, Hermione found herself at the top of a massive spiral staircase that wound down around the walls of the cylindrical cavern. Not far above her head the roof terminated in a golden gilded dome, but it plunged to gloomy depths below. At regular intervals, small archways pierced the walls.

One of the goblin kings breathed an expression of disbelief and cautiously began descending down the staircase. The others followed, long fingers trailing over the beautifully carved walls.

'Look well, High Priestess. Few wixen have seen the inside of a warren and fewer still have seen one so rich and deep.'

Hermione peered over cautiously. There was no railing, and the drop was dizzying; carved sconces were still flickering to life in the depths like little golden stars and the spiral stairs made her feel dizzy. She stepped backwards quickly.

'The nation offers a tithe of a galleon per adult and a sickle per gobbelet, plus ten percent of the silver mined.'

'A galleon per adult, a sickle per gobbelet, increasing by five percent each year, ten percent of the silver mined plus a master craftsman in the employ of the Gorlois family. Reviewed after five years.' Lord Nott suggested in her ear. Hermione nodded and repeated the offer.

'The High Priestess' assistance in the spellwork required, one day per quarter. Four percent increase each year and a master and apprentice pair in her employ.' Ragnuk offered. Lord Nott nodded the Hermione and she smiled at the goblin.

'Use of the mine and forge, my assistance one day per quarter in exchange for an annual fee of one galleon per adult and one sickle per gobbet, increasing by 4% each year, ten percent of the silver mined and a master and apprentice in my employ. Any goblin assisting with rebuilding of the castle and city is exempt from charge for twice the length of their assistance, to be reviewed in five years.'

'Done.' Ragnuk agreed with a savage grin as Lord Nott nodded approvingly.

'The ministry of magic will be connecting the castle to the floo network in the next week. You may use that floo, and I will see if I can find some loophole to create you a new portal.' Hermione informed him.

Ragnuk bowed deeply and Hermione curtsied back, not quite sure what protocol dictated she do when the High King bowed to her. Then he barked something in Gobbledegook down the chasm and the five kings came hurrying up the stairs again, arguing furiously in their language.

Hermione showed them out, opening up the portal and leading them back to the floo in Nott Manor. Once they were gone, she sighed in relief.

'That was well handled. Goblin silver hasn't been mined in Britain in centuries... I suspect now that Avalon is the only source. I hope that it will pay for the repairs to the city, because it will be a significant investment to make much of that habitable again.' Lord Nott praised.

'You'll be rich in no time, Hermione.' Neville breathed.

'Doubtful. I will find Morgana's accounts. I anticipate the upkeep being significant.' Hermione disagreed. 'Lord Nott, would you be able to contact your lawyer and see if he can make some discrete inquiries about a portal for the goblins?'

'Consider it done. I also have the legal wording for the residential registration act, if you have a minute, we should review it and decide how little we can get away with telling the ministry?'

Hermione nodded and Theo tried to make a discrete escape into the garden but Lord Nott reached out, clamping agony had around his upper arm.

'You are thirteen, Theodore. It is high time you learned these things.' The heir sagged and Neville made a rapid exit, flooing back to his Grandmother's before he could somehow be guilted into joining them.