The goblin led him through barren tunnels, their feet echoing strangely. Harry was certain he'd been turned around thrice over, and widdershins to boot! He'd never find his way out of this maze, this warren. Don't think of goblins as rabbits, Harry thought wryly, they'd crucify you.

Eventually, after Harry's feet had begun to flag (the goblin showed no such wear and care), the old goblin opened a door. Inside, there seemed to be nothing except four walls. Harry mentally wondered, Why did we go to this place?

"As you have come to me, I suppose I should ask the question," The goblin said, her pointy teeth flashing as she talked, "What Do You Want?"

It was funny how she could sound almost like Severus Snape. Harry considered how to answer, for a time, "Current goblin-wizard relations are a farce. I daresay you have better relations with Muggles, and that is unimaginably abominable. I want real relations, treaties that work for everyone, and for you to not be afraid to show your true face."

"Afraid?!" The smaller woman said, and then hooted out a long laugh. "Whatever made you think we're afraid?!" She kept laughing, for long after Harry had thought she would, even for an extremely funny jape.

"For half a thousand years, we've perpetuated a long-form jest on the Wizarding Populace at large. What do you offer us, to leave off such a long-held laugh?" the goblin widened one of her eyes, and Harry wondered if that was the equivalent of a human "raising the eyebrow" - something he knew right well from Snape.

Harry considered, turning what she'd said over in his head. He hadn't come prepared for goblins to consider themselves comedians. How does that fit with an artisanal mindset, anyhow? Stalling for time, he stumbled over his words, "I hadn't thought... you'd done it for a laugh."

"Maybe not at first..." the old goblin said, her teeth flashing into a quick goblin smile. If human smiles were designed to show their flat teeth, what were goblin smiles supposed to show? Maybe that was why they were so short.

Harry found his words, and then he struggled to find his voice. "I know about living a lie-"

"You do?!" The old goblin woman laughed, "Oh, tell us more, Savior of the Wizarding World!" Her laughter was like flint, falling in chipped pieces to the floor.

"I'm not a savior. I'm not the golden boy. The Sorting Hat wanted me in Slytherin for God's sake!"

"You'd have made a pish poor Slytherin," The old goblin said, her voice softening, "Isn't it 'for Merlin's sake!'?" She was laughing at him, Harry could see, but he could see glimpses of something behind the laughter, something ancient and vast.

"I've fought the current Dark Lord, but I haven't won, not really. He's out there now, and I'm scared, down to my bones and deep within."

The old goblin nodded, listening carefully.

"My friends think that I'm a worthless layabout, that I don't study except when it's Practical - by which they mean Defense, without which I'd die." Harry, pacing, looked over at the goblin and said, "I'm smarter than that."

"My family, if you want to call them that, has told the entire neighborhood that I'm a worthless criminal. And they think I'm lower than dirt." Harry sneered, his eyes reflecting perfect fury, "I play along."

"I cannot begin to understand living a 500 year lie, living it so long you have to laugh about it to keep yourself sane." Harry snarled, his rage at his own circumstances reflecting into empathy for the goblins.

"What do I offer you? Freedom, the ability to show your true colors. For too long, the Wizarding World has treated you as serfs, as bonded slaves." Acid dripped from Harry's voice. He cocked his head to one side, remembering something, suddenly. Those goblin wars (not rebellions, not even in your own mind, Potter) were fought over the right to a wand, as much as over the right to property.

"Gifting you wands would break the law in a way that I can ill afford at this time," Harry said, watching keenly as the old goblin's eyes seemed to sharpen with his first few words, "But I can bring you a wandmaker, if you will offer him sanctuary." Harry remembered his vision, of the Dark Lord asking about Ollivander. He hoped he could persuade him to come. "His life is in danger. I'm certain he could repay your kindness with hard work."

The old goblin's eyes flashed, as she said, "You lie. I cannot abide liars attempting to forge deals." Quick as that flash of acid-green, the goblin bounced upwards, finding handholds in the wall that Harry hadn't even realized were there. She pulled down a trap door, and threw herself over the edge.

The last thing Harry heard was, "Good luck surviving, human." It was followed by cackling, and then the dull clang of the trapdoor falling shut.

From around his feet, the chamber began to fill with water...

Harry tilted his head upwards, leaning back against one of the walls, "Arrogant as ever, Harry James Potter."

[a/n: Harry may have promised something he didn't actually have. ]