Collected Short Stories
Meetings, meetings
By
Bfd1235813
Magical Britain required substantial repair and rehabilitation following the end of the Second Wizarding War. Both human capital and the built world were badly damaged. Harry Potter was a powerful asset for anyone who could snag him for a little work. Too bad there was only one Harry Potter to go around.
I NEED to speak with Mr. Shacklebolt," Harry Potter told the auror standing outside classroom.
Kingsley Shacklebolt was spending two or three hours a day at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, an indicator of the school's critical importance to post-war restoration of Magical Britain.
Despite his crushing workload in London, he had so many things to do that required his presence at Hogwarts. It was more efficient to take a few staff and block out two or three hours in a temporary office in the castle.
"The MINISTER is very busy," snorted the man. "I suggest you go on about your business and seek an appointment in London, at the Ministry. He should be able to see you in about six weeks."
Harry Potter stood his ground, staring at the auror. The aurors were skilled in all kinds of arcane combat magic so it really wouldn't do for a seventeen-year-old to challenge him. Potter was good at thinking on his feet, though. He held the other man's gaze as he focused on not making any sort of gesture that the auror could misinterpret.
"Sir Nicholas!" he called, staring straight ahead.
There was a sudden change to the feel of the air when a ghostly presence materialized next to the auror. Harry knew from experience that the auror's skin felt damp, cool and inexplicably gritty, with a little whiff of tomb-scented air thrown in. Susceptible persons were known to experience a need to vomit when the ghost-generated phenomena hit them unprepared.
"Harry Potter! What's going on?" asked the legendary, charming, nearly-headless ghost and dandy.
"Kingsley Shacklebolt is inside there and I need to speak with him. Could you…"
Potter indicated, by wiggling his fingers in Kingsley's general direction, that Sir Nicholas could just pass through the solid oak door and ask if Shacklebolt had time for a brief meeting.
The ghost disappeared and seconds later the door swung open. The auror tried to maintain a neutral, door-guard expression but the look in his eyes said he was none too pleased. Nor did he seem impressed to learn his interlocutor was Harry Potter.
"It's fine, Robinson, I'll make time," called Shacklebolt.
Robinson didn't speak but just turned sideways and made one quick jerky hand motion indicating Harry could pass.
Potter stepped around the auror with a muttered, "Thanks."
Before the door closed, Robinson heard the Acting Minister for Magic greeting Harry Potter and asking what the minister could do for HIM?
"I don't know how much information you've got on what Ron and Hermione and I have been doing recently, but the short version is Dumbledore figured out why Riddle was such a continuing pain in the ass. He'd made some things that anchored him in this world so we wouldn't be able to just kill him and be done with it. We had reason to believe there was something in the Lestrange vault at Gringotts that had to be destroyed. That meant getting in and…"
"Wait, wait, Harry! You're going too fast for me," said Kingsley. "I know a bit about dark magic. The job, you know. Are you saying Voldemort made a horcrux?"
"Not just one," said Harry. "Can I speak freely? This shouldn't go outside this room."
"Of course," said Shacklebolt.
Kingsley pulled out his wand and drew a couple of very subtle figures in the air. Potter heard the sounds of bolts clicking coming from the direction of the door.
"Go ahead. Anything you say stays between us," Shacklebolt said.
"He seems to have made seven," said Potter. "We had an encounter with Bellatrix and she kind of gave it away that she was very paranoid about that vault. We found the means to get in and we took the artifact and destroyed it. We were discovered, down in the vaults. We used the dragon the goblins were keeping down there to escape."
Kingsley Shacklebolt stared across the desk.
"That WAS you? You really did that? The building is still standing, I don't know how, but the interior is a wreck," Shacklebolt said. "How…"
"Wasn't that hard, actually," Potter, unthinking, cut off the Minister. "Once the dragon was out of his chains we jumped on his back and he took care of our immediate, personal security. The bank guards and so on. A dragon in chains and a dragon that's free are two different things."
"Pardon me, I want to hear the rest, but where is the dragon now?" asked Shacklebolt.
"Up north, last time we saw him," said Potter. "It just occurred to me, he might need help. He probably hasn't been keeping his hunting skills fresh while he's been beneath the bank. Anyway, I'll need to make peace with the goblins. There's the damaged building but I'm guessing they'll be more focused on their wounded pride."
"You and me both," agreed Shacklebolt.
Once again he made some little movements with his wand and Potter heard the door bolts clicking.
"Robinson!" called the Acting Minister.
"Minister!" said the auror, stepping inside the room.
"Track down Percy Weasley and get him back here. He might be at the Burrow or in the office at the ministry."
Auror Robinson held his tongue, somehow, did an about face and took off down the corridor.
"I'm going to get you a list of attorneys, Harry," said Shacklebolt. "Don't get involved with the goblins on your own. Understand? Now, are you going to be around Hogwarts?"
"Yes, sir, I'm helping with the cleanup," said Potter.
"How's that going?" Shacklebolt asked.
"Very well," answered Potter. "The Headmistress is pleased, all things considered. The shock isn't over but it is waning. The dabblers have gone home and the ones who are here all want to get the job done. Maybe we're all in better shape after a couple of weeks' hard work."
"First rate, absolutely, Harry," said Shacklebolt. "Stay in touch. It looks like I'll be formally named Minister soon. If there is anything I can do for you I want you to let me know."
The Acting Minister was clearly signaling his need to get back to work so Harry Potter stood, inclined his head and took his leave with a final, "Thank-you, Minister."
Robinson was back with Percy Weasley almost immediately. They quickly tracked Potter down where he was working on repairs to the great stone bridge.
"All set? I need to report," said the auror.
"Of course," said Potter and Percy in unison.
"Percy, I am so sorry," Potter began. "All I wanted was a little advice on how to approach the goblins about the bank and Kingsley took over. I didn't think he'd just summon you like this."
Weasley got a big smile.
"Not a problem at all, Harry," he said. "It's a distraction. Fred leaves a big gap but the last thing he would want is a bunch of weeping and wailing. Everyone's going around keeping one another depressed. It's self-reinforcing. I'm trying to get George to take a trip with me. Get him out of this environment for a week or two. Someplace completely different. New York. Japan. Mum can't adjust to the loss of Fred with his identical twin sitting across her dining table."
"Excellent thought, Percy," said Potter. "Maybe I'll see if Andromeda would like to do that. After the goblins and I do business."
Percy Weasley was laughing as he reached into an inside pocket of his robe.
"These are non-Ministry lawyers. I've checked the ones I know have done goblin business before. You might want to start by talking to one or more of them."
"I'll definitely do that," said Potter. "Thank-you. Do you need anything? Something I can do for you from here?"
"Not right now," said Percy. "Got any messages?"
"I'll stop by in the next day or two," said Potter.
"That would be appreciated, Harry," said Weasley.
Potter stood watching as Percy Weasley walked toward the great entrance gates and the boundary between the wards and the outside world. During the previous school term, Percy Weasley had broken off relations with his immediate family, mesmerized, apparently, by the prospect of accruing additional personal power through fealty to the Voldemort-dominated Ministry for Magic.
Then he had shown up as a volunteer fighter for the final Battle of Hogwarts and had been fighting side-by-side with his brother Fred when Fred suffered a fatal blow from flying debris. There was only one explanation Potter could name for that sequence.
"Blood and Magic," Potter muttered to himself as he looked down at the list in his hand.
It took two days to read through the names, contact the firms and settle on one that Potter retained to represent him in his dealings with the goblins. He blocked out two hours to meet with his attorney, warning Professor McGonagall in advance that he might go over or even spend the night in the goblins' dungeon.
McGonagall was silent while she studied his face.
"Mr. Potter, I think, right now, the Marauders would follow you through the Gates of Hell," she said.
Potter snorted and smiled a tight, closed mouth smile.
"Getting through is the easy part," said Potter. "Coming back, though, that tests a man."
McGonagall nodded in dismissal, or farewell,. After Potter'd gone she parsed his valedictory. Yes, anyone who was free of the annoyances and struggles of this Earth probably would prefer Hell, if you thought about it.
Harry's meeting with his attorney went well, considering the nature of his problem. He and his confederates had compromised a goblin, used a purloined wand for identification, put a senior bank officer under an imperious curse to gain unauthorized access to the vaults beneath the bank, took a magical artifact from a noble family's vault and liberated a bank dragon as their means of escape. Then there was the damage to the bank.
Harry didn't see any point in trying to mount a defense on the facts. He had no other explanation for how they had managed to defeat Voldemort. His face was well-known. It had featured prominently in official wanted posters for nearly a year. Every sentient being between Gringotts London and the Hogwarts castle would have recognized him.
"So, what would you like me to do?" asked the lawyer, whose name Potter kept forgetting.
He looked down at the name plaque on the man's desk.
"Sherwood," he said, mentally. "Sherwood-Sherwood-Sherwood!"
"Whatever is possible, Mr. Sherwood," answered Potter. "They had a dark artifact, one of the most illegal things in our world. I know, I looked it up. Before we sit down with goblins you might want to see what our codes have to say. Oh, and communication regarding the capabilities and means of creating one is worth a minimum ten-year sentence, if coupled with the technical name. Something about 'presumptive conspiracy to murder.' I guess that is just what it sounds like."
"It is," said Sherwood. "Exactly what it sounds like. You've stumbled into one of the places where Magical and Common Law depart company on a basic principle. Under Common Law, everyone, man, woman, witch, wizard, muggle or magical, is welcome to walk around with no worries unless they commit a crime. In this case, that thing you destroyed can't be made without committing murder, so discussing it openly is embargoed. Possession, therefore, imputes certain things. Accessory, conspiracy, or other crimes according to circumstances. I'm going to do some reading in the statutes but I think you might be in a very strong position. Gringotts Bank was a co-conspirator, just for having the infernal thing."
"Won't they claim immunity? They manage the vaults, keep records, provide security. They have their own code regarding the contents of vaults," asked Potter.
"Good point," said Sherwood. "I don't think an immunity claim would be well-received by the Wizengamot. However, with the goblins, the worrisome part is their preference for direct action rather than getting bogged down in legal wizards' procedure. It's a style thing."
"So, next steps?" asked Potter.
"When do you want to meet with your bankers?"
"I'm inclined to say as soon as possible," answered Potter.
"I concur," said Sherwood. "I will be accompanying you. We'll want to make sure people we trust know where we're going, and when. In case the goblins' good faith is tested and found wanting."
Harry Potter couldn't help laughing. The comment, while grim, was well-grounded in fact.
They asked for, and got, a meeting the next day. When he first stepped inside, Potter was shocked at the damage done to the bank building. He had focused on getting himself and his friends out, not on the results of their escape. The formalities inside the conference room were correct but subdued. Neither side knew what to expect.
Ragnak, the goblin director, introduced the participants from the bank staff. Harry was alone, except for his counsel.
"I believe Mr. Sherwood is well-known to the bank? And I am Harry Potter. I was here some days back. The Ministry was under the control of an enemy of mine so it was not possible to do business in the normal way. I apologize on behalf of everyone involved for my unorthodox methods and insult to goblin protocol. There was simply no other way. I wish to participate in the rehabilitation of this facility, which is so important to our two societies."
Potter cut off his remarks and waited for a response. He knew it would be a chore getting the goblins to tell them what they really wanted. The bankers would suggest this or that or demand full compensation or a pledge to surrender his first-born son or any number of other outrageous penalties. They might even mean some of them.
Potter had several advantages. His counsel had experience working with goblins and wouldn't give anything away without getting something in return. In addition, simply having a horcrux on bank property would be extremely difficult for Gringotts to explain. As Harry knew from his own background reading, saying 'horcrux' in the context of a discussion of the function or method of manufacture was itself a serious crime. The goblins would want to keep their participation out of the press.
"The Potters are, and have been, long-term, valued clients of Gringotts Bank," Ragnak began. "Iolanthe Peverell and Hardwin Potter were some of our first depositors at the time of Gringotts' founding…"
Ragnak went on at length, referring now and then to a file, presumably to confirm a date or order of succession. The other goblins were silent, mostly, nodding sagely when the director made a point or used an apt turn of phrase. Potter listened with something like awe as the banker outlined the entire history of his family's interactions with the goblins. He couldn't help but wonder where Ragnak was taking the discussion, while he could tell Ragnak wouldn't be diverted from whatever path he was on. Potter considered the possibility that the director was trying to drone the humans into a fugue state. Perhaps they were engineering capitulation by fatigue.
"So, Mr. Potter, to your most recent visit…"
'Here we go,' thought Potter.
Sherwood removed the cap from a self-inking quill.
Ragnak suffered, it became clear, from an excess of verbiage. He went on and on, detailing this or that damage, eventually getting to a summary of the dead and injured from Voldemort's fit of rage when he'd learned of the theft. Potter knew he would have to acknowledge sincere regret for the carnage while sticking to his position that the only way to get rid of the horcrux guaranteed Voldemort would reason out the meaning of Potter's quest.
Preoccupied with his rhetorical questions, Potter was minimally conscious of Ragnak's change of direction.
"Would it be acceptable to you and your learned counsel, Mr. Potter, if Gringotts solicited your help in updating and improving our security measures? We would sit down at your earliest convenience for a thorough debrief concerning just how you managed to defeat the security measures in place. This would all be with a view to improving bank security, something that should be of great interest to you, considering your own vaults are down below the bank."
Potter looked at his attorney. He wondered if what he thought he'd just heard was accurate.
"Director, I would like ask that we suspend the meeting at this point. I'd like to review your proposal with my client. We can resume as early as tomorrow, if that is convenient?" said Sherwood.
Ragnak nodded.
"Of course, Counselor," said Ragnak. "I'm afraid I can't add 'Take your time.' The bank needs to move quickly to restore operations."
Sherwood nodded to Potter. Potter spoke up for both of them.
"Certainly. Tomorrow at nine?" he asked.
"Nine, right here," said Ragnak, tapping a long, yellow fingernail on the conference table.
Neither Potter nor Sherwood spoke of the meeting until they were back in chambers.
"That's it? I cooperate with a debrief to improve security?"
"Sounds like it," said Sherwood. "Let's think this through. Carefully. One thing is certain. Gringotts Bank will want to get something out of this and I doubt an unpaid consultancy will be the extent of it."
Potter leaned back in his chair, lower lip pinched between his finger and thumb.
"There's money," he said. "Could they see some way to clean out my vault by employing me? That doesn't make sense."
"Very true," said Sherwood. "I don't see a path in there, and I'm a lawyer."
The humor in that didn't catch up to Potter for several hours.
"Well, I guess we're right back here tomorrow? Eight-forty-five?" asked Potter.
"That will be fine," said Sherwood, closing the pasteboard file folder on his desk.
Harry Potter stood and shook hands across the desk before exiting the office.
Following the Battle of Hogwarts, Potter spent several days working until he felt ready to collapse from exhaustion, then spending the night at Andromeda Tonks' house. Andy, as she insisted he call her, kept a cauldron of soup, beans or stew hot for whenever Potter arrived. She supplemented those with rice, fresh-baked bread or baked potatoes. After eating, Potter would hold Teddy Lupin, his godson, sitting, rocking and humming tuneless melodies.
Potter was trying to get Andromeda to merge her household with his. It seemed logical. They shared responsibility for the orphaned Teddy. Potter didn't say it out loud but he thought Andy would be better off away from the country place where she and her late husband, Ted Tonks, had lived and raised Nymphadora, their astonishingly talented daughter. Potter inherited a London townhouse from his own godfather and was going through it, methodically updating fixtures and removing dangerous magic and magical artifacts.
Andromeda had been born a Black. Harry inherited the childhood home of his godfather, Sirius Black, so there was a convenient symmetry to Harry's godson, the orphan Teddy Lupin, returning to the London seat of the Black family. At least, that's what Potter thought.
Andromeda had, so far, rejected Potter's suggestion. She was in familiar surroundings, dealing with her grief. Each day got a tiny bit easier. Andromeda thought that if she stayed where she was, letting her husband and daughter go, bit by bit, at some point she would be able to take charge and begin living life once again. She assured Potter she would keep his plan in mind but that she still had work to do. Until it was done she would stay where she was.
After his meeting at Gringotts, Potter spent the rest of the day doing things around the house. Kreacher, the ancient Black family retainer, became Potter's along with the Black family lordship and the house. Potter was giving Kreacher's elf magic a workout. He was careful not to over-tire him, while Kreacher kept saying his Master was too easy and should increase the difficulty of his tasks.
The house was solidly-built but otherwise in poor condition. Potter and Kreacher collected what seemed to be literally tons of family junk. They made piles in the garden behind the house. With magic, they didn't have to wait for the trash service. Kreacher simply banished the piles.
"Where does this go when you banish it, Kreacher?" Potter asked one day.
"Master will be happier if Kreacher does not tell him," warned the elf.
Potter dropped the subject.
Kreacher had just banished a pile of junk when Potter went back inside. He debated starting on another load, decided it was too late and made a floo call to Andromeda Tonks.
"How's Teddy?" Potter asked.
"Sleeping," said Andromeda. "Are you coming for dinner?"
"Be there shortly," Potter replied.
He took his leave from Kreacher, washed his face and hands, then changed into clean blue jeans and a white shirt. One short floo trip later brought Potter to Andromeda's. Potter was startled to find Andromeda entertaining company.
He thought he would be greeting Andromeda then, if Teddy was sleeping, standing over him, watching him breathe while his baby lips mimed nursing. He was wrong.
"Draco. Narcissa," said Potter.
"Lord Harry," said the Malfoys, in unison.
"I'm Harry, in here," he replied, identifying the interior of Andromeda's cottage with a backhanded wave.
Some irritation, no doubt fatigue from his morning meetings followed by the ongoing project at the townhouse, infused his response. The Malfoys flinched, unintentional non-verbal communication.
'What do they want now?' arose, unbidden, in Potter's mind.
"Mother, you're better…" said Draco Malfoy, looking over at Narcissa.
"As expected, the Malfoys are experiencing some legal troubles," Narcissa began.
"Hmm…Welcome to the club. Of what sort?" asked Potter.
"Father," said Draco.
Potter looked from face to face.
"Tea, Harry?" asked Andromeda as she brought a teapot to the table.
"I suppose so," he said. "Enough for everyone?"
"Ridiculous question," said Andromeda as she turned for the cupboard.
"Okay. From the beginning?" asked Potter.
There was no way to tell it all, from the beginning, but the synopsis took enough time for everyone to finish two cups of Andromeda's tea.
Lucius Malfoy had dabbled in dark arts as far back as his sixth year at Hogwarts. Lord Voldemort had heard of the wealthy prodigy. From the first meeting, Lucius believed he had found his calling. He would leverage his place in magical society for the benefit of Lord Voldemort. The Dark Lord would displace the half-blood and muggleborn witches and wizards who annoyed decent purebloods with their infestation of the Ministry. By his loyal and visible support for Voldemort, Lucius would elevate his family to even higher rank among the wizards.
Lucius married well. His son was descended from two prominent pureblood family lines. The Malfoys' future promised to be one of wealth, power and status. Then came the stunning reversal of fortune.
Lucius was sentenced to Azkaban following the failed attempt to invade the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry and steal a prophecy. The Death Eaters botched multiple attempts on Harry Potter's life. When Voldemort organized the coup and murder of Minister Scrimgeour, Potter and two accomplices evaded capture for nearly a year despite combined efforts of both the auror force and Death Eater irregulars. Draco and Narcissa Malfoy became wary of Voldemort's program and leadership abilities. They had turned on the Dark Lord by the time the end finally came.
"Do you have a good lawyer?" asked Potter.
"Do you think we'll need one?" asked Draco.
Narcissa Malfoy sat, silent so far, looking back and forth between the two.
"A stitch in time," said Potter. "You must have a family attorney, with all of your property. You could start there, see if they recommend a specialist. Your interests may not be the same as your father's. You understand that, don't you?"
Draco Malfoy gulped and gave a little gasp. He nodded. Potter hadn't delivered any great revelation. He was simply the first outside party to dissect the Malfoy dilemma and state it for what it was. Both Potter, the quidditch rival and Draco's own Aunt Andromeda could see it. That meant magical society could, as well.
"They may not have been, for some time, Lord Harry," said Narcissa. "Since the Department of Mysteries, support for the Dark Lord's goals has dropped among purebloods. He did damage to pureblood families too. People were coming around. They were too terrified to stand up in public."
Potter sat, quietly, not looking directly at the others.
"I won't forget what you did for us. Whatever may have gone before, once the snatchers brought us to Malfoy Manor, let's say, you did the right thing. Mostly. Sorry about Lucius. Listen to your lawyer," said Potter.
Andromeda looked over at Harry. He'd as much as pledged his support for her sister and nephew, if they could continue to behave. His words said, without him coming right out and stating it: "Cut him loose. I am in your debt and I'll do what I can for you. Not him."
Draco and Narcissa stood to leave. Teddy was lying on his back in the little baby bed. Draco crossed the room and looked down. His cousin got a huge smile. He showed toothless gums, kicked his feet and reached up. Draco let him grasp a fingertip.
"Look at that," he said. "He can do that thing with his hair."
Sure enough, Teddy Lupin was turning his hair a brilliant blue.
Harry and Andromeda watched the green flames shoot up the chimney as Draco and Narcissa left for Malfoy Manor. Then they looked at each other. Neither seemed to have a ready observation to pass on. Andromeda finally broke the silence.
"That was well-handled, Harry," she said.
"Well, it was something," Potter replied. "Draco, here. Consulting with me?"
"They don't trust anyone from over there. The other side," said Andromeda.
Potter thought before he spoke.
"If word gets out, will they be targeted?"
Andromeda didn't answer right away. Potter wondered if he'd given offense.
"Sorry if I've overstepped…"
"No, no, it's not that," she said. "You mean Ted and me? Ted would be thinking the way you are. Draco and Cissy would definitely be in for it with the old crowd. Our mum and dad were mean ones. Aunt Walburga was the same. Pureblood fanatics. All Voldemort did was assume the leadership role for himself. He was a powerful wizard, it's true, like yourself and your friend Granger. Do you know what gave him the pureblood fever to go along with the magic?"
"Hated his muggle father," replied Potter. "Absolutely despised him. Abandoned his name. His mother was a Gaunt. Merope Gaunt. Salazar Slytherin was an ancestor. Slytherin he liked."
"Interesting," said Andromeda.
She put a large bowl of white bean soup with ham chunks in front of Potter.
"Bread?"
"Please," he said. "Aren't you eating?"
"Ha! When I cook, I taste. Done it all my life. When it's time to sit down I'm already full," said Andromeda.
The plate of home-baked bread joined the bowl of bean soup in front of Potter.
"How did it go with the goblins?" Andromeda asked. "Well enough you're back, I can see."
"Oh, that's a story," Potter replied. "We met with Ragnak and some others. I don't remember their names. They listened while Ragnak gave me a detailed history of Gringotts' interactions with the Potter family, back to Hardwin Potter and Iolanthe Peverell. It was odd. He didn't make any demands for reparations, which was a pleasant surprise. All they've asked for, so far, is my cooperation in reviewing their security practices with a view toward improvement. That's in my own best interest, according to Ragnak, of course."
"I guess so," said Andromeda. "You'll still need bankers, one way or the other. Are you going to do it?"
"Sure," Potter said. "I'm trying to think of things I want in return. Immunity for Ron and Hermione, to start with."
"Good," said Andromeda. "First things first. Anything else?"
"There has to be more, I just can't think very creatively right now," he answered. "Are you okay here? Need anything? Errands to run? Kreacher is still complaining. I don't stress his magic enough."
"That's probably true," Andromeda said. "He's a Black elf. Needs to stay sharp."
Potter went back to London, to the townhouse at #12 Grimmauld Place. He told himself it was for proximity, since he had an early appointment with his lawyer. That was partly true, even if he was licensed to travel by apparation. He also needed some quiet time, to think.
He slept but it felt like he had lain awake all night, thinking. He ran his ideas past Sherwood the next morning.
"We have to get immunity for Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley," he said. "They were my co-conspirators, along with Griphook. He's dead, so he can't be punished any more than he's been already. Ron and Hermione don't have any money to speak of so I don't want them hounded. I also want a full accounting of my holdings. I grew up thinking I was a poor orphan boy. It's only been since Sirius died that I've learned one or two things. I was my parents' sole heir. Same with Sirius."
"Could be substantial," said Sherwood. "Potters have been around a long time. Very low profile, for the most part. That's just my understanding, of course. You're the first Potter to hire me for legal work."
The meeting with the goblins went well. So well that Harry pestered his lawyer at a follow-on meeting in chambers.
"Am I missing something?" Potter demanded.
"Not that I can see," said Sherwood. "You have some valuable tokens to spend that Gringotts can't get anywhere. One, your insider knowledge of how you broke into their bank. They'd probably get there in the end but it would be a lot of work and there could always be unknowns to keep them awake at night. Two, Harry Potter's business. Once the cleanup is complete you'll be coming and going. Wizards will see that and think, 'Potter keeps his money there so mine must be safe.'"
"So it sounds to me like we have a place to begin. Then we'll sign a contract? Or something else?" Potter asked.
"They might want a contract," answered Sherwood. "I'd suggest a memorandum of understanding. Harry Potter pledges his assistance in assessing and improving where possible certain security measures pertaining to the premises of Gringotts Bank, Diagon Alley, London. Gringotts Bank, acting by Ragnak, Director, grants access and necessary material support to Potter in furtherance of his consultations. Potter to receive one galleon and such other consideration as shall be agreed-upon between the two parties."
"What did you just say?" asked Potter.
"A bunch of legal mumbo-jumbo," said Sherwood. "It's like an incantation for lawyers. Sounds insane but it's an important part of making the world go 'round. How about your friends?"
"Oh, yeah, can we put them in there?"
"I think it might be wise," said the lawyer. "They might not have money right now, but five years from now? Ten? We don't want the goblins rolling over some number annually at a favorable interest rate."
"Oh. That would be a nasty surprise," said Potter. "So they'd let the charges stand until Ron or Hermione had some money, then they'd get a bill?"
"It happens," answered Sherwood. "The goblins always have multiple strategies in play."
"Like multi-level brains?" suggested Potter.
"There are wizards and ordinary humans who could be said to have multi-level brains," Sherwood replied. "With the goblins it amounts to accessing a goblins-only dimension."
They took the meeting with the goblins the next day. Ragnak agreed to roll any anticipated charges that might have been assigned to Ron or Hermione into the no-cost consulting that Harry would perform. The Director considered the savings afforded by a memorandum and agreed to use that instrument in lieu of a contract.
"Very wise, gentlemen," said the Director. "No need for us to get bound up in contract language. Gringotts has faith in Mr. Potter's good will. You'll do the right thing, I think?"
"Most certainly, Director," said Potter. "I'll do my best for you."
The de-brief took place over two days. Potter narrated from memory. The goblins took notes. Then the goblins followed up with questions drawn from their sketchy investigations and findings. There weren't a lot of surprises. At the end, Harry Potter was asked to go over the transcribed notes from the debriefing and annotate the parchment with any ideas he had for correcting the security weakness that let the Potter party proceed to the next step. Ragnak encouraged Potter to come to the bank and observe. Potter ended each visit with thanks and compliments on the good work being done.
The work was finished, quickly and efficiently. Potter was invited back to inaugurate the new protective measures and protocols. The invitation was a bit puzzling, specifying seven p.m. as the time of the observance.
"One more thing," said the Director, after all present had drunk a toast to the partnership.
"We'd like you to break into the bank."
Potter stood, mute, looking at the Director.
"That wasn't…" he began.
Ragnak reached into an inside pocket and withdrew a sheet of parchment.
"Until such time as security deficiencies, seen or unseen, are identified by the Consultant and corrected by the Bank," Ragnak read. "If you'd like to read it for yourself?"
He extended his hand with the memorandum, offering it to Potter.
"I don't need to…" Potter protested. "I agreed to help fix your system."
"And assured me, personally, that my confidence was not misplaced and you would do your best for us?" said Ragnak. "Was that it?"
He looked at several goblins in the mixed group, wrinkled, grey-headed, grey-bearded, pupils like onyx. Bankers with hearts as hard as diamonds, no doubt gleeful their Director was making Harry Potter jump through a goblin-made hoop.
"Fine," Potter sighed. "We'll start at the front door, if you please."
Potter waited for his party to assemble. When they were all there he walked up to the security goblin. The goblin waved his rod and motioned for Potter to step forward for inspection. Potter used a silent, wandless, short duration sleep spell on the goblin and strode directly into the bank.
"He loses five seconds and never notices," Potter explained. "From inside the bank an observer would think the party had passed inspection."
Next came the request to access the vault.
"Madame Lestrange, can I see your wand?" asked the goblin behind the counter.
"Oh, certainly," said Potter, using a comic falsetto.
Potter presented a wand. No one saw him do anything to the wand he handed over, yet the goblin put the wand on a little stand, then gasped.
"This wand belonged to Madame Lestrange?" he asked.
"No-o-o, not exactly," Potter replied. "The wand has multiple identities. I'm not prepared to go further in such a large group."
"I'd think not!" huffed Ragnak. "Furthermore, the existence of that wand is to be kept secret. Mr. Potter, I'm afraid I must confiscate your wand."
"Sure, I figured as much," said Potter, holding the wand over on his flattened hand, almost as if he were making a formal presentation.
Potter led the way to the tunnels.
"The Thief's Downfall still works just the way it did before," he said. "I couldn't think of any improvements to such an ingenious device. Overcoming it is the same—as long as the witch or wizard can deploy a powerful arresto momentum. They'd have to think fast, concentrate while falling and put some magic into it. Hermione can do it but I don't think a lot of other witches or wizards can."
"I concur," said Ragnak.
"Then we won't need to get dumped out of the car?" asked Potter.
Several of the goblins looked worried. A few hands pulled on cuffs or the knots of their ties.
"We can skip that part," said Ragnak.
"Now, the dragon," Potter said. "That poor old specimen you had living down here was more for propaganda purposes than actual security. He was bad-tempered, sure, but he wasn't a trained security dragon. He didn't get exercise or fresh air. I'm not faulting the bank, you're my employers, but I think you've got a real improvement in Buster."
"Buster?" asked one of the bank officers.
"Buster!" shouted Potter. "Intruders! Put them to flight!"
A dragon materialized in the torchlit gloom. Flames shot from its mouth and nostrils. Scales the color of titanium were picked out on the dragon's breast and flanks while a horned tail thrashed the air in anticipation of a brutal, satisfying kill.
Curses and oaths from the party went up only to bounce off the stone walls and ceiling in the chamber, adding to the air of panic. A goblin produced a pair of clankers from somewhere and began clanking for all he was worth. Buster the dragon was unperturbed by clankers and plowed methodically ahead.
"This way," said Potter, taking Ragnak's sleeve.
He led the Director and the others to a small niche in the shadows.
"Anyone have a galleon?" he asked, getting several offers.
"Right here," said Potter, pointing to a coin mechanism of the kind used on muggle vending machines.
Someone put their galleon in the slot.
"Flip this," Potter said as he pointed to a simple on/off switch.
Buster disappeared.
"What…" Ragnak began, getting no further.
"Just a projection," said Potter. "Although, it's a magical one and it wouldn't be advisable to test its materiality. Anyone not quick enough with the galleon should expect to get scorched. Oh, and it's a galleon for ten minutes access to these vaults. Then we get Buster back. Should be a steady little profit center for the bank, I'd think."
Several more galleons were produced and fed into the slot, just to be safe.
"Questions?" asked Potter.
"Can we take this upstairs?" pled one of Ragnak's associates.
A short time later, Ragnak and one of the senior goblins, along with Harry Potter and lawyer Sherwood, sat in Ragnak's office.
"Most helpful, most helpful, Mr. Potter," muttered Ragnak.
The goblin's facial expression said he was thinking even as he was talking.
"What was that all about, if I may ask? Were the improvements not up to expectations?"
"Oh, no, nothing like that, Mr. Potter," said Ragnak. "No, no, I am quite happy with the work. Within our councils here at the bank, the question was raised about how to test the new systems. An associate, also a friend of yours, I believe, Mr. Bill Weasley, suggested we ask you to show us the new security measures. He didn't state it quite so boldly but it appeared Mr. Weasley believed Harry Potter would build a back door for himself if he had the chance. You might face an unanticipated need to break in again at some point in the future, and then what would you do? Do you see?"
Potter thought back to Sherwood's comment about goblin access to another dimension of thinking.
"I really need to learn to think like a goblin," he muttered. "They don't teach your methodology at Hogwarts."
"Oh, how ironic! And just when Gringotts was thinking of extending an offer…Where's that contract, Anvil? We were considering creating a new position for a wizard in our security department. Someone to liaise with the aurors as well as bringing your sort of expertise and experience in-house. I don't mean to sound crass but remuneration is always a consideration in these matters and Gringotts will match any Ministry offer, plus your hours will be much more regular than any auror's."
