Wheels Within Wheels – Part Three
Iolanthe
Chapter Seventeen
Consultations
Harry crossed to the door, using his wand to illuminate the main room, and continued outside. He walked to the bench by the millstone this time, which gave him an unobstructed view of The Mill and the flat spot he planned to use for his next step. The extra stop wasn't perfect security, but Harry thought it ought to be good enough. If a witch or wizard with the skills to follow him to The Mill and onward was behind him, he had a bigger challenge ahead than slipping past a tail.
Harry waited five full minutes. With no sign of green light coming from inside, nor any 'pops' from an apparation nearby, he judged it safe enough for his next step, walked to the flat spot, and disapparated.
Hogsmeade was well-lit, for an unelectrified village, and Harry had no trouble navigating through the streets and onto the path to the gates to Hogwarts. The path was well-kept, there was just the beginning of moonrise, and Harry dispensed with his wand and walked toward the castle. The gates were secured, but Harry's wand got him in. Once inside, he cast his patronus and sent it ahead.
Horace Slughorn met Harry at the great entrance doors and led him back inside.
"So good to see you, Harry, how about some tea, or something a little stronger if you need to refresh from your journey?" said the Potion Master.
"Tea will be fine, Professor," Harry said. "Although, we may need two or three cups to work our way through this."
"Harry, it's about time you started calling me Horace, or Slughorn if that is just too much," said Slughorn. "We're colleagues now. I'm about to become your emeritus."
Harry sat where Slughorn indicated and waited while his old teacher got the tea steeping. When Slughorn sat down opposite Harry he got straight to business.
"What?"
"Kingsley asked me to attend this afternoon's session of the Wizengamot…" Harry began, and related a short version of the debate.
"This week was interesting for another reason…" and Harry followed up with Fabio's encounter with Lestrange, and Harry's part in that.
"Ron and Hermione are both looking into connections but there is nothing solid so far," Harry finished. "Nott, on the other hand, has an interesting client list…"
Harry summed up the corporate clients with repetitive associations with the looters who skimmed profits from vulnerable countries around the world and were always looking for ways to make the funds look respectable.
"If they found a way to move those into galleons and back into pounds, or dollars, or euros…" Slughorn said.
"That's what we thought," Harry said. "It's being couched in terms of an ordinary updating of outmoded custom and regulation, which will benefit magicals at all levels. The trouble won't come from the odd magical tourist, or even all the magical tourists at once. It would also be perfect for the fruits of graft and organized crime."
"Muggle organized crime. Once it's established…" Slughorn let the thought sit there, unfinished.
"Impossible to roll back. Every nefarious character in the world would line up to oppose the most innocuous regulation," Harry said. "It virtually guarantees exposure of our little magical minority to the worst elements of muggle society. Our financial system would become an appendage of convenience to the flows of graft the muggles are trying to control. If they can't get a grip on it, we won't be able to, either."
"Tough one," Slughorn said. "I have to say, Harry, this is the nicest retirement gift you could bring me. I've earned your confidence. That's very gratifying.
"Now, at this point," Slughorn continued, "You're on the right track, it appears. Between what Georges Lestrange showed you voluntarily and what your learned colleagues' research has turned up, the outlines of the threat are pretty clear. What you lack are the key facts of who has put this together and how many others are witting? What do you intend to do next?"
"Two more chats like this one," Harry said. "Let me have them before I tell you who they are. I promise to give you the full details later."
"Oh, good job, Harry," Slughorn said, obviously delighted. "Kingsley choosing you was a brilliant move. Now, has he said anything about your swearing-in? You're operating without your own portfolio at present, I'm afraid."
"We're supposed to talk this week," Harry said. "I don't know more than that."
Slughorn walked Harry back to the front door, after offering him the use of his fireplace to floo back to London. Harry declined. He was looking forward to using the walk back to Hogsmeade for clarifying everything in his mind prior to those next two conversations.
Harry sent his patronus on ahead to set up the next meeting. The second one would have to wait for the results of the first. Harry reached the Three Broomsticks. He nodded once to Madame Rosmerta then kept his head down and went straight to the fireplace. As he dropped his pinch of floo powder Harry said, "Morgan le Fay's."
Harry greeted Madame Ba at her desk in the foyer of the club.
"Go right on up, Mr. Potter," said Madame Ba, "Mr. Zabini is in the conference room with refreshments."
"Perfect, and thank-you," Harry said. He actually found Blaise in the library, jacket hanging over the wingback chair in which he was sitting, reading the Daily Prophet. The formalities consisted of one "Blaise," acknowledged with a "Harry."
When they got to the conference room Harry gestured at the walls and ceiling and said, "Maximum confidentiality, please."
"Sure," said Blaise, putting the cups and saucers in front of two places at the table. He drew his wand and cast a few silent spells, then asked, "Coffee? Or tea?"
"Coffee, please," Harry replied, taking his seat.
Harry rehashed the basic events as he'd done with Slughorn.
"Got anything to add?" Harry asked. "Anything the consultancy has stumbled across in the course of business.?"
"Not as such," Blaise said. "The problems in those countries you mentioned are well-enough known, but we haven't seen anyone trying to bring that money over to the magical side, or vice versa.
"Merlin, Harry," Blaise said, "It wouldn't stop with the currency, do you think? Give them a couple of years of access to the magical community through the financial systems and they'd want everything else, wouldn't they? How could we keep that bottled up? Some of those dictators spent every knut in their treasuries on muggle medicine to cheat death. Think what they'd be willing to do to get a healer to keep them alive. They'd try being infieri if they ever heard of those."
Harry laughed out loud. Blaise' humor was a great relief after the strain of the past two days.
"That's just it," Harry said, reaching for his cup. "The financial changes would have to lead to more exposure and then it's just a matter of time until our community is fully visible to the muggles. Then we're a tiny minority of 'Others' who have mysterious powers. Then…"
Harry and Blaise stared into space, lost in their thoughts and recollections from History of Magic and Muggle Studies classes.
"Now, Georges Lestrange," Harry broke in. "Has he come to your attention?"
"Nothing solid, lots of gossip," Blaise said. "I wouldn't have cast him as a criminal mastermind, but that might be by design. Are you thinking this is something he came up with, or worked out with Nott?"
"He could have," Harry said. "He sounded like he really wanted to make a deal with Fabio. The next day Nott is proposing the banking and currency reforms that would put someone with a low-profile network of floos and international trade arrangements in a perfect position to facilitate the movement of currencies, outside of normal banking channels, free of regulation and proper record-keeping. It's very convenient. If that were the case, Lestrange would have to get his part done expeditiously, or they'd miss out on the opening of the new system."
They were on the verge of going into two, long, solitary fugue states when Harry stood up.
"Thanks for the coffee, Blaise," Harry said. "I have one final stop. I'll be in touch. Is there any time tomorrow you don't want to be interrupted?"
"Any time is fine, for something like this," Blaise said.
Harry threw caution to the winds, stepped into the fireplace in the foyer, dropped his floo powder and said, "Gringotts One."
"Chairman," Harry said, as he stepped out of the fireplace. "Good evening."
"Mr. Potter," said Ragnak, getting up from the settee. "Anvil advised me to go home and get some sleep, and I advised him you'd be here, when you were good and ready. Shall we go in?"
The board room was deafeningly quiet in the evening after the business day had ended. One wizard and one goblin sat across the great table. Harry suspected their conversation would be pivotal in determining the future of the distinct, non-muggle community of witches and wizards, goblins, elves and fauns in Britain, and possibly around the world.
"I have had some interesting experiences and conversations over the last forty-eight hours," Harry began.
"Go on," said Ragnak.
Harry began with the visitor, Georges Lestrange, who seemed to be overly concerned about not being able to acquire a small, specialized magical import/export firm.
He continued, outlining the inconclusive debate in the Wizengamot. He gave Ragnak anonymous versions of his conversations with Ron, Hermione, Horace Slughorn and Blaise Zabini. Then he got to the nugget with Ragnak.
"This is all to say there are people working on opening up the magical banking system, and Gringotts, to flows of muggle assets generated by graft, corruption, and organized crime. If Gringotts has a perspective it wants to share, I'm listening. On the surface, this looks sinister. If I'm mistaken, I sincerely need to be enlightened," Harry finished.
Ragnak gave his gurgling laugh.
"Mr. Potter, you have a way with words," he said. "So many wizards have that puffed-up way about them, not mentioning any names.
"Gringotts has been watching this situation develop, with great concern. The bank observes the strictest neutrality in disputes among wizards. We must be able to provide services to the entire community. Conflicts come, and conflicts go, but as a bank, and as individuals, we keep our sympathies, if we have any, to ourselves.
"The issue you've described, quite elegantly, for a non-financial wizard, is past the point where the bank can withhold its opinion, Mr. Potter. Among the bank's officers we are of one view—the additional business we might get is not worth the mortal peril we believe we must get if the so-called reforms are implemented. The bank will support you, if you move to end this," Ragnak said.
"Thank you, Mr. Chairman," Harry said. "If you and your colleagues read the situation the same way I did, that is a very big compliment. Now, liaison channels exist for a reason. If Gringotts has anything it wishes to pass along to the muggle Treasury, which will of course have its own enforcement concerns, I can't think of a better time to do so than right now. Thank you for seeing me."
Harry and Ragnak shook hands and Ragnak accompanied Harry to the small paneled room that housed Gringotts One. Harry asked for Greengrass Manor and exited via the library fireplace. Harry went upstairs and found Iolanthe asleep, so he leaned over and gave her a kiss and told her he loved her before going on to his and Daphne's room. Daphne lay propped up in bed reading a healer journal by lamplight.
"It's too dim for that, Healer," Harry scolded. He pulled off his clothes and headed for the shower, took a quick rinse and dried off.
"We need to turn that out. I would like to see you ladies get an early start tomorrow. If you have to, leave here and hang out at Grimmauld Place until the sun comes up in Utica," said Harry, in a very authoritative tone.
"You expect fireworks," said Daphne, her tone disapproving, yet interested.
"Just a precaution," Harry said.