Potter, H. James - Blackstaff

Ch 03

isdh

121

"Call the Medi-wizards. He is not walking out of here, and he never cast with a wand, so we can not throw him out." the Guards growled as they stepped back out the Doors.

The humans looked at one another, before a witch declared loudly, "It is Mage Business, not for us to interfere in. If our input was desired, they would have asked." the rest muttered quietly, before agreeing.

Harry and Jason followed the gold-toothed goblin into the office area of the bank. "Mister Potter. We have been sending requests for you to appear before us, since your Eleventh Birthday." The grizzled creature glared up at him, "Care to explain?"

"I have only received mail from Hogwarts and that carried by my own owl." Harry sighed, "Judging by the bearded fool's actions… I fear that He is the Reason for any mail not from his pen, or carried by my personal Owl has reached me. Had I known, Sir, I would have been here."

The Goblin hummed, "We will see." he opened a door into an office that Vernon would have respected. As he climbed into his chair, Jason stumped to a chair in the corner, before dropping into it. Taking that as a cue, Harry perched across the carved stone desk. "First, we have the bloodline test. If you pass, the cost will be deducted from your vaults."

"I'm sorry." Harry shivered, "If I fail, what then? I need to know what I am risking."

The Goblin peered over his specs at the boy, "If you fail, your death will be painful, and your carcass will feed the Dragons. The accounts will be credited for half your value in dragon feed."

Harry nodded, "Then I hope I pass." he shifted in the chair, "What do you need?"

A black raven feather was offered along with a black sheet of velium with a silver line, "Sign your name as you know it on the line."

Harry James Potter signed.

The blood quill did it's job…

HARRY JAMES POTTER

Became...

HAREFORD JAMES ARIES POTTER

Heir Primas to Potter 07/31/1980

Heir Secondis to Black 08/2/1980

Heir presumptive of Gryffindor 10/31/1981

Heir presumptive of Peverell 10/31/1981

Heir Victis of Slytherin.10/31/1981;05/25/1992;05/15/1993

The cranky coin counter chuckled. "Well milord. I see you doing great things in the days ahead." He dropped the blood-quill into a clear cube that rippled then congealed into crystal.

"What is that for?" Harry asked.

"Hmm?" the goblin peered at him, "Oh, so we can cross check your blood on security matters…" he frowned as the quill had wilted. He peered at the page as it wrote out the kid's family tree, and runes around the edge. "I see that you faced a Basilisk… and survived it's bite."

Jason dropped his staff. "I thought that was a joke."

"Nope." Harry sighed, as he rolled up his right sleeve. "Took her fang through the arm, as I rammed the sword into the roof of her mouth. The fang broke off, and I used it to kill the shade in the book." he snorted, "I would have died by Slytheren's personal snake, had not the phoenix cried into my wounds."

"Slytheren's personal snake?" the greed glinting in the goblin's eyes. "How big?"

"Fifty to sixty meters long, a meter and a half between her damaged eyes." Harry cocked his head to the side.

The goblin was visiblely drooling. "That big… that old… and dead how long?"

"Just over a year now."

"And just about peaked …" he scribbled a note. "And where is this beasty?"

The Chamber of Secrets, under Hogwarts." Harry frowned at the goblin, "You need a Parselmouth to get in. Why?"

"As the Slayer of the Beast, you are entitled to all the profits from it." Jason sighed. "Goblins love Basilisk meat. The ICW regulates the breeding world wide. One must be a Grand Master Breeder with over half a century records of breeding proscribed species, before they will even sign off on the attempt. The rituals to get the Egg themselves are acts against Nature."

"So how…"

"Don't ask." the Goblin sneered. "Even asking, without the right paperwork can be costly. By my math, it should be ripe for harvesting by September 1st. Could I tempt you into selling it for five Gallons per pound?"

Jason snorted, "the going price of a dragon steak is three. As this is …, well."

"What is the selling price of a Basilisk steak?" Harry asked.

"Last one on the market… fifteen per pound, and was such a weak specimen. I think we could get twenty… that is we as the Bank." the goblin grinned at the boy.

Harry glared back… "Okay, I think I can do seven point five per pound." as the goblin snated up his quill, "for the meat. The Venom, Skin, and other items are still mine."

The goblin froze, before he cackled. "Smart lad." he finished the note to the 'Render's Guild'. "If you could be back by August 30th… say, one pm?"

"Doable" Jason sat up straight. He pulled the contract from his inner pocket, "Signed the Lad as my apprentice. We came to draw the money he will need to equip himself to fulfill his duties." he passed the contract to the goblin, who read it, copied it, before returning the master to the human. The copy was entered into the boy's file. "Two hundred gold in a pouch. As his Master, I advise locking the accounts, until he returns, by blood and magic." this last was said to Harry, before, "I also advise an accounting."

Harry looked at the Goblin, who frowned. "Good advice. The Lordling should also write up a Will."

"Not knowing the legalize, Everything to Granger, Hermione Jean, with the exception of Thirty Silver to the Headmaster, and two knuts to the Durselys." Harry frowned, "100 gold to each of the four youngest of the Weasley clan. I have that?"

The goblin snorted, "That won't break your yearly interest on the Trust vault, now that you blocked the Headmaster." he turned a ledger to the lad, "Sign here, focusing your magic into the quill."

Harry did.

"The money will be at the Counter. Your current keys are useless until you return to open the vaults. Only the preset amounts in and out, until then. I will send the current file to the Black Tower, tonight. I will also send the results of the Full Accounting… next week at the earliest." he glared at the humans, "Get out, I've got work."

Jason grinned, and leaning on his staff, waved the lad to fallow. Once outside the office, he looked at the boy, "Don't take his tone as an insult. The Account Managers are different from every other goblin you will cross. They develop certain traits dealing with Families. Yours is all about business. Some are more relaxed, others are so sharp tongued, they shave the gold."

A passing goblin snorted at the human's joke.

They collected the pouch of coin from the teller counter on their way out, ignoring the clustered folk at the door. Two red robed 'wizards' were taking notes from the crowd.

"Let me get this straight; someone knocks the Headmaster flying across the lobby of the Bank… and nobody does anything but call for a mediwitch?" a pink haired witch decryed loudly.

"Of course not." an old witch huffed, "He drew his wand, inside the Bank! Just because a human hits him with a black oak staff, rather than a spell, we should risk our gold to help the old fool."

"Wait." the black man at her side broke in, "you said 'Black oak staff', everyone else just said staff."

"Fifty years chasing gnomes out of your garden, you learn to recognize the bark of the tree in your yard. English black oak." the witch snapped.

"Bloody hell." the red robe was worn as a coat over his tribal printed robes. "Senior Aurors and above received notice that a Blackstaff was looking for an apprentice." he tucked his notebook into his sleeve, "Looks like the Headmaster decided to challenge the choice, and did so in the wrong environment."

"Blackstaff?" the pink haired post-teen scrunched her nose.

"Hit Wizard on the ICW level. If the lad goes all the way, he will be bound to the Black Tower. Where most most Hit Wizards are either bound to a governor, or freelance, the Blackstaff answers only to the Tower, and through the Tower to the ICW."

"And the reason no one knows about them?" the rookie asked.

"They recruit only by apprenticeships, just after the apprentice's third year. And only when their numbers fall below a certain number." the blackman shifted from incident mode to patrol mode. "The Ministry does not like that a 'Staff can enter our borders, sort through our kids, and take 'em as they choose. Only the chosen, and their Guardian, can block the choosing." He started to stroll towards the Leaky Cauldron, when something caught his eye. "Once the Contract is signed, the apprentice is put through three months of intensive training."

"Why just three months?"

"Because, they still have school. As Hogwarts restarts the school year on September 1, the contracted needs to be drilled, roughed into shape, and trained in the basics. Come the First, for a wizard, he is handed a book or two on International Law, to learn it in the next nine months. He has three years of this, and after his NEWTs, he faces the Trails. Should he pass; his core, his power alone will match Voldermort. But at a cost. See that wizard leaning on that staff there?" pinky nodded, "that is a staff crafted from …"

"Black Oak." the rook hissed. "Did he do anything wrong?" she gripped her wand.

"Other than disrespect Albus Dumbledor?" the Senior Auror pushed her wand down, "No." the lad at the 'Staff's side turned enough for the two aurors to see his face… glasses and a scar. "And that is why the old man tried to challenge!"

Pinky frowned, before stepping quickly to the boy's side. "Mister Potter. May we have a word?"

121

Harry collapsed on his bed in the Leaky Cauldron. After the bank, he and Jason were joined by two Aurors, Shacklebolt( 'just call me Shack') and Tonks. (Just Tonks, ok?). They had visited a wand crafter off the main alley, to get him a deluxe wand holster. It ended up on his left wrist, more to keep him dropping his wands on the ground.

Shack had confirmed that both wands read as his.

Clothes shopping had been an adventure. Tonks had him posing, as she and the sales-witch discussed his style. They, not him, decided that a Kilt and vest combo worked best form him. As a spark of mischief, his kilt was done in Clan McGonagall colours. The kilt was woven wool and unicorn tail hairs. Charmed for warmth, durability, and ease of washing. His vest was dragon-hide exterior, with Acromantula silk lining. They got him Boots, knee high… tonks tried to talk him into a two inch heel, but no thanks. And a dragonhide leather cloak, lined with fur.

Three changes of underwear, socks, and shirts, and Harry was done.

Jason had him choose two knives that felt good in his hand, one in his boot, one on the back of his belt.

A quick visit to the Optic-healer, and he had a pair of glasses that truly worked for him. They were charmed to never fall off, shed water and fog, and grant 'Mage Sight' when he tapped the rune.

Anyone else, the whole afternoon would have cost him three-hundred gold, but as Harry Potter, He that Lived, he still had twenty-five gold.

Life was about to get ...different.

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