The next morning, Hagrid knocked at the door cheerily at the crack of dawn, armed with a massive cloak that was meant to conceal Millie's particular features from the wandering eyes of the wizards at the market that they were meant to go to.
It seemed to Moxxie that eternal suns and many generations had passed since his last meeting with Hagrid, and he was shocked to remember that he had seen the man just last night. But between his training with Moody, the surprise of the Minister coming to their rooms, and the Imps plotting all through the night, it felt like a lifetime had passed since he had gotten tipsy at Hagrid's cabin.
So many of Moxxie's perceptions of the people around him had changed that he found it odd to see Hagrid's unchanging, cheerful and puffy face smiling at him as he opened the door.
The Imps had only gone to bed two or three hours before Hagrid came, and Blitzo had been taken by surprise when he remembered the trip to the market that they were meant to partake in, even though they had been talking about it just a few hours before. Regardless, he rubbed at his eyes and made Hagrid come in and wait for him and Millie as they readied themselves.
It had taken an entire pail of cold water to rouse Millie from sleep, and when she did wake up, she was positively murderous. However, when Moxxie asked her if she would rather stay home and have him go alone, she got even more murderous and reluctantly went into the bathroom to splash her own face.
She was in relatively higher spirits after that, and since she liked Hagrid so much, it was easy to get her in a better mood.
Soon enough, she was quite excited about going to a wizard market - it seemed that it didn't matter how shady or suspicious this world got. Millie still managed to find something interesting and worthwhile in it, like she was constantly in an amusement park. Moxxie was glad to have her near to rub off her willingness on him.
Millie took the oversized cloak reluctantly - after all, all of wizardkind would know about Imps soon enough, so what was the use of it? But considering how Hagrid spoke of him, it was fair to assume that he was one of Dumbledore's faithful minions, and it was likely they couldn't know about Fudge's plan.
Millie side-eyed Moxxie as she pulled it on and tugged at the hood. He nodded at her slightly, a nod that meant that she could take it off whenever she wanted.
After last night's conversation, there was no need to establish it with any further conversation. When the wizards had left, Moxxie had revealed everything that he knew, his meeting with Moody, the invisibility cloak, and every other scrap of information that the others might not know, resolved to work together as a team. It had been about time, too.
The conversation had basically become a recount of information, some of it new, and some of it rehashed, but an important that they should've had before nonetheless.
The sun had begun to rise when they reached their conclusion, and they were all yawning, prepared to go to bed when Millie had stopped Moxxie dead in his tracks. "Moxx," she said, "just one more thing: how did you become an Imp? You said you arrived at Hell but still as a human boy, right?" Moxxie nodded. "Yeah, well, it's a long story…" and just when he was about to tell it, Loona growled. "Another day. I need my sleep," she said irritably, stomping off to her room and leaving no further place for discussion.
They all shrugged and headed back to their rooms, thinking of all that they had spoken, together with their plans, and how they would act upon it in the days to come. It was funny how the conclusion that they had come to was the simplest - right in front of their faces the whole time.
They were Hell-dwellers. They weren't meant to be abiding by wizard law, and they certainly didn't owe anything to the people that were basically blackmailing them into doing dangerous tasks and staying outside of their home. They were going to wreak havoc, and if these people wanted to kill them or kidnap them (which they kind of already had), then let them try.
The whole thing made Moxxie a little nervous, but it was definitely better than what they had been doing so far, which was just reacting to the world around them and getting tossed about by different power figures as if they were rag-dolls. No more - even though doing what they wanted was dangerous, even Moxxie understood that letting themselves get played could be even more potentially dangerous.
Hagrid led them through a bunch of hallways and stairs to places where Moxxie hadn't yet wandered.
He realized he didn't have the slightest clue as to how they were going to get to this wizard marketplace. "Hagrid," Moxxie huffed, catching up to the man. He always felt awkward and heavy in his human form. "How are we going to… get there?" He asked nervously. "Why, by the fireplace, of course." "Fire-place?" Millie asked skeptically. "You'll see, it's really not as scary as it sounds. Come along now," he said, an old key materializing in his hand. He opened the plain wooden door before them and headed into a room much like the one where the Imps resided. "It doesn't sound scary, and we're from Hell. Fire ain't that uncommon," Millie replied, looking at her surroundings.
Flames were blazing at one end of the room from a massive fireplace. "Right," Hagrid cleared his throat and produced a little velvet bag. He gave it a good shake and then pulled on it to reveal the contents. There didn't seem to be much. "This here is Floo powder. I'm going to toss this into the fire, and then one of you's is going to say 'Diagon Alley' nice and clear, alright? When you get there, just wait where you are, and the rest of us will arrive soon." Moxxie and Millie gulped, staring at the wild flames before them.
They shared a look. "Oh, come now - I thought you too were Hell-dwellers, not scared of a little fire," Hagrid chuckled. "Au contraire," Moxxie replied in a weak voice. "We learn to be scared of fire," he said as if he had proven a point. Millie took a deep breath and then grinned. "Whatever. Pop me in, big man!" She squealed.
She looked like she was ready to have Hagrid haul her into the fire like a log. But, instead, he tossed what looked like ash into the fire, and the flames suddenly turned green. "Ooh," Millie said expectantly as if forgetting her previous hesitation. "Now, remember, Diagon Alley, nice and clear," Hagrid said, taking her small hand and guiding her inside the fireplace.
Moxxie expected her to catch fire, thought that this had all been some bizarre homicidal plot to kill them both, but Millie passed into the flames as if they were nothing, just a hologram of a real fire. She giggled a bit. "Diagon Alley!" She screamed, and then the flames engulfed her completely. Moxxie bit back a gasp as she disappeared from sight. Could she be dead? Was it really a trick? If it was, then he would go along with her, anyway.
Did these people even know how to kill Imps? What were they going to do, send them to the afterlife? Hagrid just looked like he had a casual breakfast, and he whistled as he scooped up another handful of the powder. Then, once again, he tossed it into the flames. "In you go, Harry," he said chirpily. Moxxie consoled himself by thinking that a friendly, genuinely well-meaning man like Hagrid couldn't possibly be so calm and casual in the face of murder.
Although he might be a complete psycho, but he really didn't think that was the case. Hagrid seemed like the only genuine person they had met so far.
So, holding his breath, he stepped into the flames. He found they only tickled and relaxed. "Diagon Alley!" He bellowed. The feeling was like that of being sucked into a toilet. He held his breath like he always did when traveling through portals, and it was surprisingly similar to his experience arriving at Hogwarts, only far more mellow.
Soon enough, the fireplace spat him out into a street. He gasped. Millie was already standing up beside him, her hood down, hands on her hips, looking around happily. "Just looks like some old European city," she said, even though the excitement didn't leave her voice. She hauled Moxxie up, and a second later, Hagrid appeared beside them, on his feet, as if he had only crossed through a door. "You alright?" He asked them, and they nodded. "Well, welcome to Diagon Alley," he said with a grin and lumbered before them.
Although it was terribly early in the morning, there were still quite a lot of people milling about, entering and exiting shops that advertised and contained things that Moxxie didn't even know existed. "So, wand shop?" He asked, clapping his hands together. Despite everything, he was actually pretty excited to get his own wand - what would it even look like, were they all the same?
Would he be able to harness magic and stop fearing it once he managed to conquer wand magic? Hagrid surprisingly shook his head. "Gringotts Bank," he corrected, pointing up to a massive, crooked building that loomed far ahead. "A bank?" Millie questioned. "Well, how do you think we're going to pay for all of yer stuff?" Hagrid chortled. "But I don't have any money," Moxxie argued. "Oh, of course, you do, you think Lily and James Potter would leave nothing behind for their own son?" Hagrid huffed as if incredulous. Moxxie had family money?
He knew that he couldn't believe what his aunt and uncle had told him about his parents, about them being deadbeats, but they really had an inheritance for him? So they walked along, keeping to the shadows and the walls to draw less attention, but the people around them seemed to be wrapped up in their own business, anyway.
Besides, there seemed to be mysterious cloaked figures to spare, making a good cover for Millie. Gringotts Bank, as Hagrid had called it, was even bigger and more intimidating up close, made of pale marble and of impeccable architecture, the likes of which Moxxie had never witnessed in his life. He supposed that that was one of the beauties of having magic on your side - what other mundane things were wizards capable of producing that were better and more beautiful than the ordinary? He was a bit frightened by the odd inscriptions and cryptic messages carved on the massive walls of the place, but he tried his best to ignore the sayings, full of words like 'greed' and 'avarice,' and even some things he thought might be Latin. Millie huddled close to Moxxie, clearly intimidated by the size of everything. Wizards in different-colored robes walked about on important airs, serious expressions on their carved faces. But they both received a nasty shock when they saw the creatures in the bank's main hall.
They were unlike anything they had ever laid eyes on before. "And I thought I looked weird to wizards," Millie complained, watching the strange, deformed animals in their elevated stands. "Goblins," Hagrid whispered to them discreetly. "Particular little creatures. The keepers of Gringotts - ain't no one as efficient as them," he explained.
Finally, they stopped before the stand of one of the creatures, who was scribbling away madly at a piece of parchment, its long, disgusting fingers curled around a quill. Hagrid had to clear his throat to get its attention. "Excuse me," he said, keeping his tone light. "Yees?" The goblin asked, looking at them over his spectacles. "We are here for…" Hagrid leaned in close. "The Potter vault." "The Potter vault?" The goblin asked, looking at the three of them suspiciously. He took in one after the other as if scanning them with its beady, animal-like eyes.
Moxxie realized that maybe the outside world knew even less of the strange circumstances in which he had arrived at Hogwarts. What if they didn't recognize Harry and wouldn't let him into his own vault? The goblin recomposed itself, shaking off its curiosity. "Do you have the key?" It asked, trying to keep a bored tone to its voice. "The key? Oh, yes, the key," Hagrid fumbled for a key in the many pockets of his cloak and then handed it to the goblin.
It observed it, and its strange features betrayed nothing. "Mr. Potter only," it said, looking pointedly at Millie and Hagrid.
It didn't seem particularly taken aback by Millie's appearance, though. "I'm his wife," Millie protested. "His wife?" The goblin repeated. "Yes, my wife. Whatever's in there is her business, too," Moxxie defended, trying to put on his best authoritative voice. The goblin looked like he was about to strike them down, and Moxxie certainly didn't want to upset it, what with the needle-like teeth that had been poking out of its mouth the whole time it'd been speaking, but he wasn't about to leave Millie stranded back here. "Your wife, then," it tsked. "Just 'cause you too ugly to get one-" Millie began. "Mill," Moxxie warned between his teeth. The goblin was looking down at them severely. "Very well," he finally admitted, looking defeated.
He got down from his stand and walked down the length of the corridor that they were in. Moxxie was amused to find that the thing was even shorter than an Imp, and it took all his willpower not to laugh. The goblin didn't even tell them to follow, and it just hobbled along without looking back. "I'll wait for you back here," Hagrid informed them encouragingly, but he looked exceedingly awkward slouching there in his musty clothes in the middle of the golden hallway. "Oh, I almost forgot," he said, tossing a massive, empty satchel at Moxxie. They looked inside, but there was nothing in there.
He and Millie turned away and rushed to the goblin, who was surprisingly quick on his feet, leaving Hagrid behind.
The path to the vault was… something else, to say the least. It was a cart ride through what seemed to be cold, murky, dark cliffs, but it was hard to properly distinguish their surroundings because of the low lighting and the incredible speed with which the small cart moved. Odd sounds came from all around them, apparently from beasts or other people heading to their own vaults.
So this was the procedure that all wizards had to go through to get a little bit of money? So how did anyone get anything done around here?
It seemed to Moxxie that everything in the wizarding world was designed to make you shit your pants and convince you that you were about to die in some very creative ways. Was there any getting used to it, or did these people just have to become accustomed to getting adrenaline spikes every time they went to buy groceries?
The cart was far too fast by far, and their surroundings blurred into one another: that together with the swaying motion and rickety tracks made Moxxie feel like he was about to vomit.
Millie, on the other hand, was whooping wildly and sticking her hands out (rather imprudently, considering the jagged stones just above their heads) as if she were on a roller coaster.
The wind whipped at her hair and face, but she took it in lovingly, seeming uncaring whether or not the goblin could see how strange she looked once her hood had flown back.
Just as Moxxie was about to stick his head out and puke out the nothingness in his stomach, the cart made an abrupt halt that sent him and Millie flying off to one side.
The goblin was as serene as ever, paying them no mind and seemingly impervious to the cart's wild racketing. Millie gave out one final whoop, laying on the splintered floor of the cart, her red cheeks flushed an even deeper red, and she jumped to her feet, helping Moxxie up. He, in turn, looked positively green. "That was fun," she said breathlessly. "Can we do it again?" "The way back is the same," the goblin replied promptly.
Moxxie winced. They had stopped before a massive stone vault. Its great, imposing doors boasting two small handles and a golden keyhole. The goblin carefully took the key that Hagrid had given him between two carrot-like fingers and inserted the key, which gave a rusty turn. The vault probably hadn't been opened since before Moxxie's parents had died.
The thought made him a bit sad, but he didn't dwell on it because soon, his eyes were shining with the yellow reflection of the heaps upon heaps of golden, silver, and bronze coins stacked atop one another. There were jewels, pearls, coffins full of mysterious contents, gold-plated goblets, and innumerable other treasures Moxxie didn't have time to even look at. The two Imps stood looking at it, their mouths agape. "And… this is all Moxxie's?" Millie squeaked out in a small voice, being the first to speak. "It belongs to Mr. Potter," the goblin corrected irritably.
He looked at Moxxie once again, at his sweat-streaked, parted hair, revealing the scar on his forehead. The goblin didn't say anything else. "Holy fuckin' shit, Moxx! You're filthy rich," Millie let out, drooling. "I mean, with this kind of dough, I bet your parents owned an illegal sweatshop or something." But, again, Moxxie didn't say anything, and he just took a step inside.
Millie took the empty satchel from his hands, clearly far quicker than him, and started loading it up full of different-colored coins and jewels. So that was what the satchel was for. As Millie loaded it up, Moxxie kept expecting someone to stop them with a scream and tell them to back away from the vault, yelling that they were thieves, that they had no right to be there, ransacking this vault. But no such thing happened, and he watched as Millie rummaged through the massive, expensive room, the goblin waiting patiently off to one side.
She took a massive emerald ring for herself and put it on her finger, admiring her reflection on it. Moxxie walked around slowly, examining everything warily. Then, finally, a goblet caught his eye. It had some beautiful carvings, and on its hilt danced a doe and a stag. He picked it up carefully. The rim read 'Lily and James Potter, married 1978'.
He took the goblet with him. Asides from that, everything just seemed like junk - granted, precious, expensive junk, but still. "That all you were gon' take, sugar?" Millie asked, hauling the satchel upon her shoulder. Now that she was satisfied with her plundering, she had noticed how strange Moxxie appeared. Moxxie nodded, still dumbfounded. Then, with a final sweeping glance at the vault, they left the way they had come.
0=0=0=0=0=0=0=0=0=0=0=0=0
Hagrid stood waiting for them exactly where they had left him. It was actually odd to see him standing around like that, a million-pound obstacle in the middle of the way. Moxxie walked towards him on wobbly knees - the trip back had been easier since he had sat down and shut his eyes, but he felt like hours upon hours had passed since they had left Hogwarts, and all he wanted was to take a nap.
But not on the lavish, soft covers of their room at Hogwarts - he actually missed the stained sheets and the bed bugs of his own place, Blitzo breaking in and destroying their home while they slept.
He hated all the thoughts that came to him of all the times that they had struggled with money, how the Dursleys had starved him and given him clothes that barely fit. He was shaken, not pleased by all the money he suddenly had. He almost felt robbed of not having found it sooner. But there was something else, too.
He knew that their lives would never be the same with this amount of money, not like he wanted them to be.
He felt he had still been holding on to some foolish hope that this whole ordeal would end, that it was just part of a feverish dream that they'd all soon forget about. But it didn't seem like that would be happening anytime soon. Hagrid still had that same cheerful smile on his face, and Moxxie was glad to be away from the strange bank with all its weird-looking little creatures.
Moxxie pocketed the key as they left, careful to mind where it was at all times. They were just about to step out into the busy street, where the sunlight was already shining pleasantly when Moxxie noticed a tall man looking fixedly at them.
Moxxie met his eye, but he didn't get a good feeling about the man's intent stare, so he quickened his pace. However, the man, having caught Moxxie's attention, walked swiftly over to them just as they reached the door. "Hagrid," he called in a mellow, cold voice. They all turned to look at him. He was a thin, callous-looking man with a long shock of white-blonde hair that spilled down his straight back.
His robes were sober and black, matching a silver-handled cane that he clutched in one hand. It was only when he got closer that Moxxie noticed a small figure with floppy ears standing by him. He tried to get a closer look, but the figure scurried away behind the man's robes as if frightened. "Malfoy," Hagrid greeted more curtly than Moxxie had ever heard him speak.
Malfoy only stopped a second to look at Hagrid before his gaze fixed on Moxxie. It seemed he didn't mind-blowing past Hagrid at all. Millie pulled her hood down low. "Would I be right in presuming this to be Mr. Harry Potter?" Malfoy asked with a curt smile. "That's right," Moxxie replied tightly. "An honor," Malfoy extended his hand, and Moxxie shook it.
It was cold and clammy. Moxxie had to fight the urge to wipe it on his shirt. "Lucius Malfoy," he introduced himself. Moxxie nodded, unsure of how to reply. "It is strange that a person such as yourself should be escorted by… this type," Malfoy said, his eyes skittering over to Hagrid, looking at him up and down like mean girls in teenage dramas.
That sat badly with Moxxie. "What does that mean?" Moxxie asked defensively. "Oh, nothing, nothing at all," he said, a sly look to his face. "Only that I am sure you will make… superior acquaintances shortly. My son currently studies at Hogwarts, you know. So we are ever at your service." So he said, and Moxxie thought the man wanted him to understand some hidden meaning to his words. "Riiiight," Moxxie drawled, frowning at him. Malfoy suddenly caught sight of Millie's small frame under her hood. "Oh, and what is this? Some sort of house-elf?" Malfoy swept up Millie's hood with his cane. "The hell are you doing, you creep? Want me to use that cane as a strap?" She snapped at him. "Err, we best be going," Hagrid cut in.
Malfoy looked perplexed, but he was still perfectly composed. "Right. Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Potter. You should keep your animals," Malfoy said, looking alternately from Millie to Hagrid, "in check," he concluded, tilting his head and sweeping off, the little creature behind him hurrying to keep pace. Moxxie still couldn't quite decipher what the being was.
The group stepped out hurriedly. "Who the fuck was that?" Millie questioned irritably, wringing her hands. "Lucius Malfoy," Hagrid replied, sounding shaken up. "What's the whole deal with the superior acquaintance's thing?" Moxxie asked, shuddering as if he could shake off the invasive, wormy feel of Malfoy's hand in his.
Was it possible to be hexed just from a handshake? "Some wizards - like Malfoy - believe in… the superiority… other… wizard… races. Purebloods, they call it." "They're like skinheads?" Gasped Millie. "What? What they mean by pure-bloods is a wizarding family that doesn't have any Muggle in them. Which is impossible, I think." "Muggles being non-wizard people, right?" Moxxie asked. "Right. Anyway, it's a bunch of horsecrap, if you ask me. People like Malfoy… well, let's just say they're the kind of people to follow You-Know-Who," Hagrid murmured at them. But then he really did look incredibly uncomfortable now, like he had stepped on something wet with socks on. "Any case, let's go get you that wand, eh, Harry?"