Ramblings and Dribbles

by WolfgangNH

This is a posting of ramblings, dribbles, one-shots, unfinished ideas or other stuff I just don't think deserves it's own storyline. Some I plan to finish someday, others are what they are. This is mature reading for some posts. Some items may be well developed, others are not yet, and may never be. There will many different pairings, and sometimes none.

33. The Gringott Conspiracy

Brainwave: I once read a story where Harry had had enough and wanted to withdraw all his money from Gringotts. This had the goblins flipping out and I always wondered what I would do with this concept. I wish I could remember the author and vaguely remember what happened. I don't want to repeat that, but if I do, it is unintentional.

Ron is a good guy in this one, after getting his head out of his arse the previous year. He helps Harry and Hermione 'get away' from the castle. Umbridge/Fudge/Dumbles are not nice, whether it is the 'road to hell is paved with good intentions', the feeble minded, greedy politician or the woman with delusion of adequacy and whose role model seems to be Bellatrix Lestrange, Harry is done with them all.

-oOo-

Chapter 1

-oOo-

June 2, 1995

London, England

Hermione was chewing her lip as they stepped off the Knight Bus. Harry could tell how nervous she was, but he had had enough though.

They had been let off a few blocks from the Leaky Cauldron. Harry didn't want to waste time, but they couldn't be caught. Ron, Fred and George were doing a lot to get him out of the castle this afternoon. If things worked out, he would have the weekend to make good on some type of escape. He hoped Hermione would come with him, but didn't think she would. She had been bugging him for two weeks now to start up some defence club again. Harry had gotten it into his mind that he just wanted out. Dumbledore could have his prophesy and whatever else he wanted.

From Harry's perspective, he had seven people in the whole world that he cared about and whom cared about him. Everyone else were just wankers that were welcome to the sadistic Ministry and the Dark Wanker.

"Harry, are you sure about this?" Hermione asked for the fourth time since they had left.

"Hermione, we have gone over this all week. I am not going back to Hogwarts and the Ministry and everyone else can just go to bloody hell," he replied.

After a moment, she nodded. Hermione was just as pissed as he was at the treatment they were all receiving since the Ministry last June, and she had definitely been incensed as what Umbridge was doing to him and the 'do nothing' responce from McGonagall, Dumbledore and every other professor. She was just unsure of this plan.

Last year had been bad enough. The Ministry had moved into to Hogwarts after the Triwizard Tournament and had spent the year demeaning him and trying to break him. The DADA and History professors had been horrid. He had spent most of the year in detention and had lost five times more points than the next five people combined. The ban from Quidditch had solidified Gryphindor behind him, or vilified him. Then the Ministry, where Fudge was doing all he could to hide the fact they had fought Voldemort over Easter Break, where Sirius had died. To the minister, it had just been terrorists and the kids were only there because Sirius Black had kidnapped them. His godfather was still the right hand man of the Dark Wanker and Harry was just a delusion boy that thought this new group were Death Eaters after the stress of Cedric's death.

On top of all that, was Dolores Umbdridge, their new History of Magic professor. The pink toad needed to die, but with no help from anyone, Harry was thinking it was better to get away.

"Hermione, you don't have to come. I plan to find someway to leave and really don't plan on coming back," he told her.

"What about our OWLs? You know we can't do any underage magic and the Ministry can snap our wands if we are not in school," she reminded him.

They were only three weeks from their OWLs now.

"Let's get to the goblins and then figure that out. Sirius told me over Christmas that they would help with almost anything... for the right price," he added.

She worried her lip as they looked around. The dilapidated sign for the Leaky Cauldron could be seen. Harry stopped and looked around the alley. For the middle of the day, there were a fair amount of muggles around with lots of cars. Most importantly, he didn't see anyone that would stick out as a wizard or just skulking about. When he was satisfied, he took Hermione's hand. They had disguised themselves, with the help of the twins. Her hair was more a dirty blonde, her expressive brown eyes now hazel. She had chubbier cheeks and a bigger nose. Harry preferred her normal looks, but this was necessary.

Harry's hair was more of a light brown, his scar had been covered with Muggle makeup. His green eyes were more a dull green, not the stark emerald they usually were. Fred had said he had too much power in him to hide his true eye colour. They both had taken an aging potion, so they looked more like eighteen. When they had, Harry had the thought that Hermione Granger made a hot eighteen-year-old.

Hoping it was enough, he pulled Hermione towards the pub.

When they walked in, it was decently busy, probably a late lunch crowd since it was a little after one. The barman looked up, then went back to what he was doing. They weren't his usual customers and obviously moving towards the entrance to Diagon Alley, which didn't warrant much interest.

Once in the alley, even in Muggle clothing, they didn't warrant much interest besides a disdainful look here and there. At the steps of Gringotts, four guards were watching over the alley, two on each side of the steps, and all with poleaxe and chain armour.

Harry approached one with more earrings than the other. "Master goblin," Harry address him, trying to make sure noone was looking. Someone snorted as they saw the Muggleborn wizards talking with the goblin, but continued on, no recognition that he had just looked at Harry Potter.

"What it is, wizard?" the gruff voice came to him, its beady black eyes staring at him suspiciously.

"My friend and I are under glamours. We do not want to be recognized, but know that you don't take kindly to deception," he said, looking towards Hermione, who had just nodded her head head. She had drilled Harry in how to start things, like Bill had told her when she had asked.

The goblin looked even more suspicious. "No disguises in the bank," the goblin replied.

Harry took out his key. "I was hoping that this would get me in and let me talk with an account manager. We will willingly drop our glamours once we are out of of sight of the main lobby, and pay for the honour," Harry told the goblin.

This seemed to get the goblins attention. It got the attention of the other guards as well. A few more wizards passed them, but didn't say anything. A woman looked at them with wide eyes, pulling her young son in closer. She was obviously afraid the goblins would react to them in a bad way at the initial look on the goblin's face.

A small sneer came over the goblins face. "That will be one hundred galleons, and a search when you get into a receiving room. If you don't have the galleons, you will work it off in the mines."

"Done," Harry told the goblin. He knew he had thousands of galleons. What was a hundred?

The goblin took his key. "Follow me." As they walked into the bank, he barked out something in Gobbledegook, and another guard walked down the steps to replace him. They were shown to a teller, who gave then a skeptical look, even after taking his key and a short exchange between the two. Two more guards joined them when the other went back towards the main doors.

Hermione was staying very close and keeping her mouth shut. That was very unusual, but she had been warned that she should not get in the way of Harry's business. When they were shown into a receiving chamber off the main hall, the teller turned on them. "Drop the disguised now or you will be found in violation of our policies."

"Do we have permission to use our wands?" Hermione asked.

The teller gave a curt nod, and a moment later they were stood as Hermione Granger and Harry Potter.

"Why do you still look older?"

"Aging potion. It won't wear off for a few more hours," Harry told them.

"What else do you have you?" the goblin snapped.

"A few shrunken trunks, some money, a few family heirlooms and my wand," Harry told the goblin.

Hermione nodded. "About the same, plus a book and a comb in my pocket."

The goblin glared at them for a moment, then focused on Harry's scar. "Regent Potter, where is the new vault key we issued to your representative over the summer?"

Harry looked confused for a moment. "This is the only key I have ever received. Did Sirius leave me a new key?"

The goblin eyed him. "You were not given a copy of Regent Blacks will or the emancipation documents? What of the documents formally declaring you Regent of both houses?" the goblin asked.

Harry was starting to feel his temper rise. "I most certainty did not! Don't tell me that you gave all that to Dumbledore?"

"Harry, just keep your temper," Hermione reminded him. They all knew Dumbledore had kept him in the dark and still was. For God's sake, the man wouldn't meet Harry's eye or even stand to be in the same room as him for more than a moment since the Ministry debacle at Easter.

Harry let out a breath. "Master goblin, Headmaster Dumbledore handled everything involved with my godfather's death this at Easter. I didn't even get to attend a funeral. All I was told was that everything was left to me and then was requested to let Dumbledore use a house I inherited."

After a moment, the goblin nodded, then waved his hand. The two guards left. "If you would come into the office," the goblin said, showing them into one of the doors. The room they walked into was rather spartan. Two high back chairs were before a dark wood desk and a chair that was raised to let the goblin be level with his clients. The only thing of character in the room was a shield with the hilt of a sword showing over the rim and a poleaxe above it.

When they sat, Harry making sure Hermione was sitting first, the goblin regarded them for a moment. "I need to check over your paperwork before we do any new business."

Harry nodded. The goblin snapped his fingers and a house elf appeared a moment later. It handed the goblin a thick folder and Hermione looked about ready to jump out of her seat when the house elf dissapeared. Harry grabbed her forearm. She glared at him, a fierceness in her eyes. He glared at her just as fiercely, until she let out a sharp breath through her nose and settled.

During that time, the goblin went through the folder. "There is a lot of unsigned or improperly executed documents, contracts and bindings. To start, you are Harry James Potter, son of James Fleamont Potter and Lily Ophelia Potter?"

"Yes, sir."

"I am Turngut. Standard fees will apply for transactions today," Turngut informed them.

"What are your standard rates?" Harry enquired.

"Thirty-four galleons per hour. Between ten sickles and ten galleons per document, depending on what it is and if it needs to be filed with the Ministry as well. Three percent of vault value to transfer and close any vaults. Other fees will be offered when asked," Turngut answered.

"That is highway robbery," Hermione said incensed.

The goblin shrugged. "I don't see any other Wizarding bank in Britain."

Harry had to put a hand on her again, and shook his head. He wasn't happy, but they needed to leave rather quickly. "Very well," harry acknowledged.

The goblin nodded, then put a parchment before him. Harry looked at it, but it was Hermione who picked it up. "I will need you to sign that, then we can go over the rest."

"It's an emancipation document signed by Sirius and ratified by Gringotts and the Ministry," Hermione told him.

"What does it say?" Harry asked, leaning over her shoulder.

"Harry, once you sign this, you will be an adult. The Ministry can't use the trace on you. You will have access to all your funds," she told him.

"No hidden clauses or tricks?" Harry was very weary of any contract or paperwork after last year.

"Not that I can see," she said, handing it to him. Harry took it and paused when he saw the black quill on the table. A brief flash of horror, then anger crossed Hermione's face. "A blood quill?"

"All legal documents that are not endorsed at the Ministry require as such," the goblin said.

Harry, liking the idea he could be emancipated, and that it played well into his plans, had him reaching for the hated object. The words 'I will not tell lies' clear for all to see as he did. After signing it, the wand on his arm felt warm for a second, then cooled. He figured it was the magical use tracking charm the ministry used.

"Next, the will of Sirius Black and Lily Evans. Hear are your copies and I need signed receipts." Harry handed them to Hermione, knowing she was better at this stuff, as he signed the receipts.

"Do you want me to read through the wills?" Turngut enquired.

"Hermione, do we need that?"

She had already moved his mother's will to her other hand. "No. This all seems pretty straight forward, though you may not like some of what is in here."

"Anything I need to deal with now?"

Hermione shook her head, her eyes looking a little teary. Harry didn't want to know right now. He could deal with it later. "What else, Turngut?"

"This one is recognizing you as the official heir to the House of Black. You need to press a bloody finger here. If you are the heir, then you can claim the magic," the goblin told him.

Harry took the knife, put a small slit into his thumb, not even wincing, then placed his finger at the bottom of the scroll in a box next to another print of dried and oxidized blood. There was a blue flash of magic under his thumb, and then his name filled in on an empty line in gold lettering. "You are the heir, and that means you can claim the regency of House Black."

"How do I do that?" Harry asked.

"Don't ask me, I am a goblin," Turngut sneared. "That is family magic that you should now. We only validate family members and heirs. I can validate that you and one other could claim to be Regent Black."

"Bloody hell," Harry cursed.

"Language," Hermione corrected him. "Sirius says here to be regent you need to challenge the magic."

Harry frowned. "I don't know what that means."

Hermione shook her head. "There is so much of this pure blood ways that Hogwarts doesn't teach us. I would figure Sirius would tell you about this. "

Harry made a disgruntled noise. "Sirius and I never got alot of time to just talk with each other. Turngut, without being regent, do I have full access over all of Sirius' vaults?"

"No."

Harry growled and pulled at his hair. "Fine. Do I just call out that I challenge the magic of the Blacks?" There was a stir in the air. "It can't be that simple, can it?" he queried towards Hermione.

She looked at the paper and then at him. "Sirius did like to be a joker. You think he meant you had to literally challenge the Black's magic?"

Harry shrugged. "I, Harry Potter, challenge the Black's magic to become regent and master."

It was like an electronic shock as he was suddenly overwhelmed. The magic flooded into him, making every nerve feel like it had been struck by thousands of volts of electricity. After the initial shock, Harry grit his teeth and forced the magic to heel. When the magic suddenly subsided, he leaned over, panting. He was covered in sweat. Hermione was at his knees. Slumping back into the chair, he said, "Ow."

Hermione's hand touched his. "Are you alright to keep going?"

Harry nodded. The goblin looked at them with mild interest. "You have other business?"

Harry sat up after squeezing Hermione's hand. Hermione looked concerned but went back to her chair. "Is there any other paperwork I need to sign?"

"Just a few more forms. Now that you are regent, you have access to all your vaults and control of the Black family. Sirius Black had Gringotts draw up a few forms. I have penalty contracts for the Lestranges and Malfoys for violations of the betrothal and marriage contracts to the Blacks," the goblin said.

"Really?" Harry asked.

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "What type of penalty contracts?"

"Per the betrothals and contracts, no harm was to come to any other Black by their hand or actions. A few violations have been documented, meaning penalty clauses now apply. The Lestanges now owe the House of Black the bride price, plus twenty-five percent," Turngut informed them.

"How much is that?" Harry asked starting to feel better.

"One-hundred and twenty-five thousand galleons, a half dozen artifacts and a quarter of the Lestrange lands. It was the same clauses for the Malfoys, which was a two-hundred thousand galleon bride price, four artifacts and a quarter of all their holdings."

"Wicked," Harry grinned. He eagerly took the forms and signed.

"The last business is a proposal that has sat on my desk for almost a decade. There is an offer on the table for most of the Potter holdings. Your previous guardian was indisposed and could not act upon it," Turngut told him.

Harry looked confused. "Why would someone want all my holdings?"

"The Potters were once highly regarded investors in loans, properties and companies. A bid of almost a million galleons was offered by the Malfoys to take all your holdings. Your Ministry appointed guardian tried to close the deal, but he was not your magically recognized guardian, so the deal has languished all this time," Turngut said.

Harry's anger boiled over. "WHAT! The bastard Malfoy tried to steal all my stuff!"

"That would be the previous regent Malfoy, Abraxus Malfoy. It was Minister Bagnold that tried to close the deal before the Wizengamot stepped in. Rest assured, Gringotts has not allowed any impropriety," the goblin reassured.

Harry scowled.

"Harry, just calm down. This should all be resolved in a few," Hermione said in a calming way, her hand over his arm.

"Fine. Burn the paper. Is there any other business that needs to be taken care of before I do what I came here to do?" Harry put to the goblin.

"The last paperwork, now that you are emancipated, is the transfer of magical guradianship or Miss Hermione Granger. Until she is seventeen, she was a ward of Sirius Black," Turngut said.

They both blinked. "What?" Hermione asked.

Turngut shuffled some papers around. "I have here a transfer of guardianship from Hogwarts to a Stubby Boardman, which is an alias that Mr. Black had registered with us. A Mr. and Mrs. Granger signed and approved the transfer on December twenty-eigth of last year."

Hermione looked a little shocked. "How? He never met my parents," she said.

"Mr. Black contracted Gringotts to handle the exchange. It took two months of negotiation, but your parents agreed. Regent Black, if you would sign here, you would be Ms. Grangers legal guardian until she turns seventeen," Turngut said, pushing the black quill towards him again.

"Hermione can't be emancipated now?" Harry asked.

"As a Muggleborn, there is no law allowing as such unless she were to be married. Are you asking for a marriage?"

Both of them turned a little red. "No," they both said at the same time. Harry wouldn't deny how much he liked her, but they weren't dating or anything.

"Then sign the parchment," Turngut told him. "Otherwise her guardianship will return to Hogwarts and her Head of House."

Harry signed. "Any more paperwork?"

"No, Regent Potter-Black."

"Good. I want to close all my accounts, vaults, sell all my lands and holding... whatever I have," Harry told the goblin.

If a goblin could go white, it looked like it did a good job of trying to. "Clo... clo... close your accounts?" the goblin stuttered.

"Yes. I am leaving and don't want anything to do with this country again," Harry told him.

Hermione handed over a few parchments. "Here is the information for a few muggle banks and a vault number for the gnomes of Switzerland. We expect a one-point-five percent transfer fee, as defined in the Banking Treaty of eighteen-eighty-four and Harry is willing to pay a reasonable amount for any transportation, as defined in the Goblin-Brittan Treaties of nineteen-forty-six. Harry is enacting the closure per the same treaty and expects all accounts to be closed in the next twenty-four hours and all transfers to be completed within the next thirty days. Here are the forms and the written request," Hermione said, indicating the bottom papers.

"I was also told that Gringotts could provide me with ID's and travel papers for myself, Hermione, her parents and the Weasleys. I am willing to pay double the normal fee to have that done today, preferably within the next hour," Harry added.

The goblin just sat there, blinking at them. After a moment, he said, "If you would excuse me, I do need to get someone higher than me to approve this."

"There is nothing to approve. We are within treaty rules. I just want this to happen," Harry told the goblin.

The goblin looked distinctly uncomfortable, not like a goblin at all. "Give me a few to get a Senior Manager."

Turngut rushed out of the room. Harry gave Hermione a raised eyebrow. She had a distinctly unhappy look on her face. "Why would my parents give Sirius guardianship? He couldn't do anything to help you, how could he help me?"

"I don't know, but I knew he was starting to question Dumbledore," Harry replied.

Hermione thought for a moment. "I think you are right. Dumbledore and others have been hiding things and you may be more important than we thought."

Harry snorted. "Sirius told me about some of what just happened, but I told you I thought he was not telling me everything and it was really bothering him."

"You really believe Dumbledore had him bound to an oath, don't you?" she asked. This was a familiar argument over the last month and a half.

"Yes. It was the arse that kept everything form us. If the arse had told us about the prophesy and half the things about my family I should know, then Sirius would never had been killed. We would never have gone to the Ministry," Harry told her, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

Her hand moved down to his hand. She had been doing that more and more lately and Harry found he liked it. Her thumb ran across the fresh scars from Umbridge. "I'm never coming back," she told him.

"Hermione, you can stay, but I don't think its safe for you," he told her.

"It's not. It's not safe for any of us. I don't believe in that stupid prophesy and Dumbledore can do more to protect everyone and take care of Tom," she said.

Harry agreed. It had taken him a week to recover from his fight with Voldemort. Hermione had almost been killed, taking her three weeks before she had been released. Luna and Neville had spent a few day in the infirmary, while Ron had spent two weeks at St. Mungo's. Harry never wanted that to happen again.

"Where do you want to go?" he asked. They had talked about a few places, but had thought it would be a year or two away. The last round of detention from Umbridge and the Daily Prophet going after his friends now, had made Harry's mind to push the schedule forward, even if he was a run away.

"Canada," she told him.

Harry nodded. Canada and Australia had been at the top of their lists for the last few weeks. The MACUSA and the Congress of the Americas were far more progressive than the Ministry and the ICW. They also had more Aurors and took a very dim view to despots and Dark Lords. Australia was far, far away, with a good treaty between most of the south-west Pacific for mutual protection, as well as some good schools, but were not as strong as the MACUSA, who was the magical government for Canada, the United States and most of the Caribbean islands. It would give them many places to hide if they needed too.

He felt a little guilty about leaving Neville, Luna and the Weasley's behind, but Neville had assured him he would convince Gran to leave and Luna was going to go off with her father over the summer. By then, she would know if she was going to join them or not. Just about every one else could go screw themselves.

They sat quietly for a few before the door opened again. Three goblins walked in. Turngut was last in line. The first was a very aged goblin whose hands shook as he took the seat. The middle goblin looked scarred and grizzled. "Regent Potter-Black, this is Senior Account Manager Agrrod and Senior Accountant Bogrot."

"Well met, sirs," Harry answered. Hermione was a little more elegant, "Good day, Senior goblins."

Agrrod gave her a snear. "What is this about closing your accounts?"

"Exactly as we said. There is the paperwork," Harry told the goblin.

"This is unacceptable. Gringotts has kept all our promises and contracts with both the Potters and Blacks," Agrrod told him.

"Since I have never been able to talk to any of you and have never received anything from Gringotts, I have no idea if have or not," Harry snapped back, not in the mood to take any flak.

"Harry," Hermione admonished. "Senior Account Manager Agrrod, this is nothing to do with Gringotts. Harry wishes to leave the country and have nothing to do with Brittan anymore."

"And who are you? Are you this man's representative?" Agrrod demanded.

"She is my friend and you will treat her with respect," Harry countered. "I am willing to go quietly, to not harm Gringotts, but if you wish to be an arse, I will make sure that everyone knows that the goblins were keeping me from what is rightfully mine."

Agrrod and Harry had a staring match. The sneer he got from the goblin would probably have cowed most others. After a moment, the goblin said, "You would ruin centuries of good dealings with your family and the goblins. I always knew humans could not be trusted."

"I have no clue what you are talking about and I really don't care. I need to be out of Brittan as soon as I can," Harry told the goblin.

"Master Agrrod," Turngut said. The gobiln shrunk back a bit when Agrrod turned to the other goblin, a murderous look on Agrrod's face. "I don't think Regent Potter-Black has ever been told of our history."

"That is not our fault. We have upheld our end of the agreements," Agrrod said irritably.

"What agreements," Hermione questioned.

"Are you family or this boys representative?" Agrrod to put to her again.

"Well, no, but..."

"Then be quiet, girl," Agrrod snapped.

"That is it. I want everything closed now and I will be going to every paper I can to let them know how you treat everyone and that you are now violating... is it three treaties?" he queried to Hermione.

"Yes," Hermione replied.

"Yes, three treaties. One of which will mean the Ministry will take control of Gringotts and if you resist... bugger! I can't remember the exact wording," Harry said.

"The Grimbolt treaty of seventeen-eighty-one. It states should the goblins refuse access to rightful funds, vaults or other property, Gringotts can be considered in defiance of the Ministry and the Ministry has the right to enact jinxes that would bar all goblins from all lands they may hold on United Kingdoms land," Hermione said.

Agrrod snarled. "This will mean war," he said.

Harry shrugged, though his hand was on his wand. He wouldn't allow these goblins to harm Hermione. "We are already at war, but the Ministry thinks its just some stupid people trying to act like its the old days. Now, give me my due," Harry demanded.

Agrrod stared him down for a few before grabbing at the parchments. He read through them. "Do you have any clue how much you have at your disposal or what it will do to Gringotts or the wizards?"

"Except for very few, no one has ever cared what has happened to me," Harry told the goblin.

The goblin's nose flared. "You will find out you are wrong, Regent Potter-Black. You really have no clue what you are doing."

"Then tell him," Hermione snapped, her patience obviously done with the goblins as well.

"The Potters and the Black may not be the largest of our depositing clients, but that is because they own the most loans, lands and holdings. The goblins have used their vaults, along with others, to act in good faith to manage such transactions. Gringotts and the families have a great amount of exposure should you do this," Agrrod said.

"How much?" Hermione asked.

Agrrod looked to Bogrot. Bogrot looked about as well as Turngut. "Currently, the Potters have about a fifty million galleons in loans and business deals in both the wizards and normal worlds. The Blacks about ten million. Gringotts has invested nearly as much with this backing. To use these treaties, that would call the lean for all loans, accounts and business deals, leaving Gringotts to pay all losses."

Harry's eyes bulged. "What?"

Hermione was more lucid in her question. "What does that mean? That doesn't sound like that much," Hermione told them, knowing most Muggle banks of this size worked in the billions. She was staggered at the amounts that Harry had invested, but it still seemed small to Muggle standards for banking.

Agrrod looked between the teens, obviously realizing they had no clue about Wizarding economics. "Miss, if you add all that together, you are talking about more than three times the amount this bank handles in hard currency a year. You would cripple half the shops between Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley and probably bankrupt quiet a few families."

Hermione was still confused. "But that is nothing. Sure, its a ton of money, but really? The British economy is worth a few trillion pounds."

"Yes, when you have millions of normals, that are doing business with billions of others, you are correct. Wizards are not as populous. How much is the wizarding economy evaluated at?" Agrrod asked Bogrot.

"About fifteen-five million galleons a year in hard currency, and another twenty in transfers," Bogrot said.

"Brilliant," Harry said with a bit of a smirk and shock.

"Oh, Merlin," Hermione said. They all just stared at each other for a few. "Harry, I didn't think we would take down the entire economy," she told him.

"I don't care, Hermione," he said, his voice a little shaky. "Besides you and your friends, who has ever really cared or done anything for me? How many times were you hurt from that hate mail, or Malfoy or others. You know that if they ever get you, you will be killed. I just want out of here and I don't want anything to do with all this anymore."

She looked a little scared, but nodded after a moment. "That is the paperwork. You are treaty bound to make it happen. Or do the wizards call you oath breakers again?"

Agrrod snarled at Hermione. "Foolish whelps. Your oath breaking will be all our downfall. I must go talk with Ragnog. You are to stay here."

"Sure," Harry replied.

-oOo-

The bowels of Gringotts

Ragnok read over the parchments before him. "This witch knows the treaties better than you, Agrrod," the large goblin in the impeccable business suit said. "What agreements are they violating with Gringotts?"

"There are numerous contracts, agreements and even a treaty with House Potter that binds the boy to us so tightly that I don't see a way to give him what he wants without costing the bank in reputation and nearly half of our reserves," Agrrod said. "Bogrot agrees. He knows the accounts tied to these two houses. They go deep. Only the Bones, Notts, Selwyns and Davies could cause as much damage as this boy."

The snarl towards the young wizard from Agrrod was palatable.

"Again, tell me what he is violating with these treaties and the format it is being requested in?" Ragnog asked more pointedly.

Agrrod's lip turned up in a snarl. "Technically, nothing," the aged goblin gritted out.

Ragnog looked at the paper again. "Bogrot, is our exposure really that great?"

"It is great, Ablax Ragnog. It threatens to close nearly a third of our accounts to pay the debts, since most of them are below the ten-thousand galleon level. Probably a quarter or more of all businesses in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade will be unable to repay the amount of debt they owe within the next thirty days. It also calls in several large notes due by the Ministry of Magic. I fear their Wizengamot will try to block it and it will quickly become known that the House of Potter and Black have left the bank," Bogrot said.

"How much does the Ministry owe this wizard?"

"Nearly five million galleons," Bogrot said.

Ragnok raised an eyebrow. By their estimates, the Ministry didn't bring in that much in taxes every three years. "How much is in the Ministries accounts?"

"A little under two million in their payroll account, and about four in their other general funds. Last year they deposited three-point-four-eight million and spent three-point-one million. They borrowed four-hundred thousand to pay for new wards, upgrades to Hogsmead and to support Hogwarts, and have requested two-hundred thousand for next fiscal year," Bogrot told him. "It is estimated that the Ministry will collect between four hundred and eighty thousand to almost a million less galleons over the next year in fees and taxes with the war that is brewing."

Ragnog knew those numbers. The Ministry would be looking at bankruptcy within the year.

"What other major exposure is there?" Ragnog asked.

"Three and a half million has been loaned to the Malfoys in the last eight years, with an average eight percent interest. Regent Malfoy has used the Black vaults to back the loans, and with Regent Potter-Black now the current regent and Narcissa Malfoy nee Black being dissowned per the penalty contracts, there is nothing to back his loans besides his vaults and properties. If the Black vaults close, his loans will be due immediately," Bogrot replied.

"And how much do the Malfoy's have?" Ragnog enquired.

"About two million in their accounts and we estimate about three million in estates. We are unsure if he has other accounts abroad or how much he may hold in reserves. He averages about two-hundred thousand in deposits and about a hundred thousand in withdrawals. All the Malfoy loans are tied up in their businesses. Other members of his alliance may be in similar circumstances. The Bulstrodes owe eight-hundred thousand. The Selwyns, Crabbes, Changs, Davis, Diggory, Prewitts and a dozen other major houses make up another three million galleons. Any call on a loan will bankrupt most of them," Bogrot answered.

"And you are sure that this will not break any treaties or contracts we have with Potter or Black?" Ragnog asked back to Agrrod.

The head account manager snarled. "I am certain. I told them otherwise, but if this were to happen, the wizards would be crying fowl and claiming we broke the treaties."

Ragnog's beady black eyes regarded two of his senior managers. "What would happen if we deny these requests?"

"Gringotts and the Nation would be ruined," Agrrod said. "Even if we were to take up arms, the wizards have enough blood of our ancestors to enact the jynxes that would banish us from our lands. We are not as numerous as we once were, and the normals take up more land than ever. If we were to expose ourselves, I think the last goblin-wizard war will look like a skirmish, unless we chose to join one of the other clans on the continent."

Ragnog knew many wanted to fight for their freedom. The wizards had suppressed them for too long. The issue was, they knew about some of the modern technologies of the normals should the war spill out of wizarding and goblin lands. The goblins of Gringotts and a few other clans in Europe were not as numerous as once they were, but there were still free clans that would come to their aid if it meant they could leave the closed mountains where they lived. As much as he liked the way blood would drip off his blade, he had little doubt the goblins were not ready for war right now. They would need to arm and train. Not to mention get their hands on some of the weapons that normals used now. He was going to have to call a meeting of chiefs within the week.

"I would like to meet with these two. Perhaps I can pursued them to change their minds. If not, you must prepare to meet these demands. We are not ready for a war. We need time. A year or more to prepare," he told his underlings. "We will have a council meeting tomorrow morning at an hour past sunrise. Bogrot, spread the word and come straight back. Agrrod bring them to me. They are honoured guests and will not be treated otherwise."

"Yes, Ablax Ragnog," they both said. Agrrod still looked displeased. Bogrot left, his face impassive.

-oOo-

A short bit later...

The bowels of Gringotts

Harry felt a little nervous. They had been led down a few levels and had just been shown through a huge set of bronze doors. Behind them was a large office. Like the other office, it was rather spartan for its size. The only real decoration were two suits of armour behind a goblin of obvious authority and looked stronger than the guards that had just taken them down, with Agrrod and Turngut leading the way. The two goblins that had been working with him obviously respected, or maybe feared, the goblin before them.

The aged goblin motioned for two chairs and their escorts took up to the right of the impeccably dressed goblin. Harry made sure Hermione was sitting first, not taking his eyes off the guards until he sat. There was a distinct feeling they were dealing with someone they probably shouldn't upset.

After a moment, the large goblin tapped the pile of parchments before him. "You wish to close all your accounts, Regent Potter-Black?"'

Hermione gave him a nervous look. "Yes, sir," Harry replied.

The goblin grinned. "This boy doesn't seem as rude as you indicated, Agrrod."

Agrrod snarled. "No, Ablax Ragnog."

"I would almost mistake you for Muggleborn, not wizard born," the goblin said.

"I grew up with Muggles and Hermione is Muggleborn," Harry answered.

The goblin nodded. "Understandable. Almost no wizardborn or raised would be as polite, nor would they probably understand the treaties that you reference here. Do you really understand what you are asking?"

"Harry is asking for the liquidation of all assets and to have them distributed to the three accounts on those documents," Hermione responded. "I have read all the active treaties. There is nothing there that violates any treaties and per the treaty of Rexford in seventeen-forty, no agreement between goblins and wizards are to supersede the requests presented to you."

Ragnog sat back in his large chair, casting a look towards Agrrod. "Is the witch right?"

The goblin looked to be fighting to control himself. "The witch is," he said after a moment.

"Then I don't see the problem," Harry said.

"No, you wouldn't, wizard," Agrrod snapped.

"Enough," Ragnog said. It was soft, but held a command that had all of them listening. "Regent Potter-Black, the issue is the exposure you put the goblins and your world at. Perhaps you don't understand that a third of our world would just cease to exist. Thousands, perhaps tens of thousands, of your kind would suddenly be destitute. Shops would close. Some of our other largest depositors could be wiped out..." Ragnog held up his hand when it looked like Harry was going to say something. Harry held his tongue. "Chaos of this magnitude would not benefit any of us, especially with the enemy we know to be out there. I would propose a mutually beneficial agreement."

"Harry, be careful. You know what Bill said," Hermione whispered.

"I really don't care, Hermione, but I don't want to hurt anyone that might be innocent. Not everyone believes the Ministry, just most. Was it Ablax Ragnog?" Harry questioned. The goblin inclined his head, then moved his hands to make a steeple before his face. "I am not changing my mind. I need funds. Today. I also need traveling papers, as I asked Turngut. I am willing to extend the closure of my accounts to allow for the innocent to find a way out of this."

"And what do you consider innocents?" Ragnog queried.

"Anyone that is not marked by Voldemort. Anyone that does not support him. Anyone not associated with the Ministry of Magic, except the Weasleys and Longbottoms," Harry told him.

"What about Susan Bones and the others in the DA?" Hermione asked him.

"Hermione, Madam Bones didn't do anything to help me in my trial last year, and she never answered any of the owls we sent her," Harry commented.

Hermione frowned. Harry waited to see if she was going to say anything else, before turning back to Ragnog. Ragnog asked, "Anyone else?"

"That about covers it," Harry told him. "Oh, and the Lovegoods. They are not to be touched."

Ragnog just sat looking at Harry. "Are you adverse to transferring loans and debts to the goblins? If you are, we are willing to take about twenty million in debt from you, then close about ten million within the month, as you ask. The last we ask a year to manage the debt and find reasonable terms to close those deals or accounts where possible."

"And what do you want in return?" Hermione asked suspiciously. She really had taken Bill's warning about dealing with goblins.

"The standard ten percent for managing all transactions. Should any collateral or other artifacts of goblin origin be offered, we would reclaim it and give a fare share of their price to you," Ragnog offered.

Agrrod hissed. "Those were paid for."

Ragnog leveled a glare at his Senior Account Manager. "We will not have this conversation. A fair market price shall be offered before we take any. I will not have us blamed for breaking a treaty. If blood is to be spilt it shall be started by the wizards," Ragnog commanded.

Agrrod backed down, saying something in guttural Gobbledygook.

Harry looked to Hermione, who looked concerned, but shrugged.

"Done," Harry said.

Ragnog nodded. "Now, there is the matter of several leans on the Black accounts and two contracts between Gringotts and the Potters."

"What leans?"

The goblin lowered his fingers and leaned forward a little. When he smiled, the sharp teeth in the goblin's mouth were clearly visible. It gave the goblin a feral look. Harry could understand what made these people so dangerous and feared. "This is a matter that might hold a great deal of revenge for both of us. Regent Malfoy has been under the impression that his son would become Regent Black. Obviously, that is not true. In his assumption, he has taken out massive debt to fund his business and other endeavors against the Black's accounts. The term of the leans can no longer be supported. What would you like to do with the leans, now that you are the bond holder?"

Harry's eyes opened. "How much and what can I do?"

"Somewhere north of three-and-a-half million galleons in leans," the goblin said. Hermione gasped, Harry just blinked. "You have a few options. You can give him a period of time to repay them, you can forgive them, or you can call for the money to be paid."

"Bloody hell," Harry uttered.

Hermione, her mind already racing, asked, "Can they pay it?"

Ragnog's beady black eyes gleamed. "The bank can not discuss other clients finances, but since Regent Potter-Black now owns the leans, he has the options."

"Hermione, we can't leave that much money for the Malfoys and Voldemort to use," he said.

"I agree. That is a lot of money Harry. How wealthy do you think the Malfoy's are?" she put to him.

"No clue. Rich. But this would put a dent in the Malfoy's plans," Harry urged.

After a moment, she nodded.

"Ablax Ragnog, please call the leans. How long before you can close them?"

"A week if you close the Black accounts. Letters will go out before close of business today and by the terms, they will have a week to come up with the lean amount, plus twenty-five percent for default on the backing. After that time, we will submit the paperwork to the Ministry and they have three days to reply with an additional ten-percent interest due. At the end of those three days, we seize the money from their accounts and force them to pay any remaining debt before they can do business with Gringotts again," Ragnog said, looking to be really enjoying the pain he was about to inflict.

"What keeps them from withdrawing everything from Gringotts before then?" Hermione asked.

"Per treaty, the Malfoy's will only be able to withdraw up to a five hundred galleons a day until the accounts are seized," the goblin said. Harry had a chill go down his spine at the malice in Ragnok's voice.

"Right," Hermione said, sounding a little bothered as well.

"If that is agreed, there are still the contracts with the Potters," Ragnog said.

"What contracts are those?" Harry asked dubiously.

"For over a hundred years, Gringotts has used coin from the Potter vaults for investments and loans, mostly in the Muggle world. We have returned a ten-percent return on average per year. Gringotts would not like this relationship to change," Ragnog told them.

Hermione beat him to asking, "How much is ten percent per year?"

"Over three-hundred and fifty thousand galleons last year," Ragnog replied.

"How much is really in my accounts?" Harry asked, not realizing what it meant when Turngut told him earlier.

"Harry, that is millions of pounds," Hermione told him.

"Yes, the Potters may not have the largest amount in the bank, but they are one of three houses to have so many investments. You would really hurt yourself, the goblins and the wizards should you withdraw. There are also certain penalty clauses to Gringotts should you withdraw," Ragnog said.

"Was this deal made before seventeen forty-eight?" Hermione asked.

Ragnog's smile dropped, and he gave an indiscernible look to her. Harry didn't like it and reached for his wand. The guards shifted, their armour clinking as they did. Ragnok held up a hand. "One contract is. One contract isn't."

"I want to see the contracts," Hermione stated.

Ragnok took another moment to study Hermione before turning to Harry. "The Potter family has copies of the contracts. Gringotts is not required to provide new ones."

Harry didn't put his wand away. "I will pay to get copies right now."

Ragnok didn't move. Goblins always seemed eager to make a galleon, and Harry wasn't sure why they were so reticent now. It made him uneasy. Eventually, Ragnok nodded his head. "Bogrot. The contracts."

"Without agreement for money?" Bogrot asked unpleasantly.

"Now," was the only reply from Ragnok. Bogrot returned a petulant look before turning and walking out of the room.

Harry and Hermione shared a look. There was something wrong here. He was getting worried with how much time this was all taking. He wanted to be out of here and then be out of Britain. They all waited in silence for a few minutes before Bogrot returned. He presented the scrolls to Ragnok, who them presented them to Harry. Harry passed them to Hermione.

"Now, what penalty clauses are we talking about?" Harry asked.

Ragnok's black eyes met his. "Depending on the terms of agreement between Gringotts and the client, withdrawal of your funds as backing will require Gringotts to back the loan. There are certain fees and percentages depending on how much you withdraw."

"This is why you ask for a year to unravel this?" Harry asked cautiously.

"He is asking for a year because this treaty says that Gringotts can take double the normal payment and can have the Potters pay for all fees required to close or move funds," Hermione told him.

Harry's eyes narrows as the goblins looked at him blank face. "Anything else, Hermione?"

"There are penalties for withdrawing your support early, but only a six month hold before it can be official... Gringotts would pay any transfer fees... the Potters would give up seventy-five percent of the interest... Gringotts would reimburse the Potters fifty-percent of any lending that went bad..." Hermione spoke as she read through pertinent clauses.

Harry looked to Ragnok. "Does Gringotts or the Potters come out ahead if I close everything right now?"

Ragnok mouth twisted a little. "We both loose millions."

"And if I wait, say six or nine months, instead of a year?"

It looked to pain the goblins. "At six months it is about a wash. At nine months, you would make a tighty profit with Gringotts breaking even. After a year..." he let it slide.

"There is a clause in here that the Potters would need to return all goblin forged items after a year, if before then, the Potters would continue paying the agreed upon fees when ever a new regent takes over the house..." Hermione was still going.

Harry thought frantically for a moment. He just wanted out of here. "If you were to make your best effort to close everything that I hold within nine months, would you if I offer half the profit and half of all goblin wrought items? If we do this, I want full travel papers and any ID's required today for myself, Hermione and her family at Gringotts' expense."

"You forgot to bring up if there is a way to keep our wands," Hermione put to him.

"Are you both fifteen?" Ragnok asked.

"Yes," Hermione replied. "I am sixteen and Harry is fifteen."

"Then there is no issue. If you are human descent, once you have had at east one year of formal education in spellcraft and are fifteen, you are legally allowed to carry a wand," Ragnok said almost bitterly.

"How do you know that?" Hermione asked, looking up from the contract. "We were always told you had to pass your OWL's."

Ragnok's mouth scowled. "Goblins know the laws and treaties that keep up from using tools that should be rightfully ours to use."

Neither teen asked anything else about it, sensing the anger from all the goblins in the room. After a moment, her eyes turned back to the scroll.

Ragnok's cool expression slid into a greedy grin. Even Bogrot looked a little appeased at the deal. "I will have the contract drawn up immediately. Bogrot," Ragnok commanded.

Hermione was still reading the first contract.

In the time it took the new contact to be drawn up, Hermione finished reading both Potter-Gringotts contracts. She didn't seem as pleased with Harry's deal, but she didn't really say much against it either. When Bogrot returned, he held a three page contract. Hermione and him looked it over, trying to make sure the the goblin's weren't taking advantage of them. There were a few clauses they didn't care for, but there was nothing that came out as really hurting Harry.

"Once I sign this, how long before we have our documents?" Harry asked, looking at the black quill that had been put on the Gringott's manager's desk.

"The documents you requested are already in process. It will take another hour or so to get all the paperwork though the Ministry of Magic and the Muggle offices," Bogrot said.

Harry looked at his watch. It was already approaching five o'clock now. They had been in Gringotts for over two hours. He had no choice but to wait. "I guess my last question is how can I get out the country with Hermione and her parents in the next twenty-four hours?"

-oOo-

-oOo-

Chapter 2

-oOo-

June 22, 1995

Redhill, Surrey, England

With their disguises back in place, they made their way out of Diagon Alley. There was no sign that they were recognized, not did they recognize anyone. Now that they were leaving magical Britain, Hermione thought it too much a risk to take the Knight Bus again, so they turned towards the nearest underground.

Harry didn't start breathing a little easier until they were on the train. It was a little busy, being after six. Hermione shuffled a little closer to him, taking his hand.

"Are your parents going to understand?" he asked, feeling a little bit of doubt for the first time.

"I've told you, I told them everything. We were all under a magical contract until we took our OWL's. Even if I wanted to run, the Ministry would have been able to to find me or use the contract to bind my magic. Same with you," she whispered, looking around to see if anyone else was listening. None of the people around them were.

"But what if your parents decide not to come? What if the Weasley's don't leave?" Harry asked her.

"Fred, George and Ron were going to do their best. You left them all money to leave. I really think that Neville will convince his Gran to go. She has sent him letters almost everyday since Easter letting him know how proud she is of him. Luna will find a way to keep her dad exploring. You know she likes that too," Hermione assured him. "It's alright to think about yourself sometimes."

Harry let out a big sigh. "I feel like I'm abandoning them."

"You aren't Harry. They all know why you are leaving and its only a week left. They all helped you escape and are working to help you now."

"I know."

Hermione leaned her head on his shoulder. "I'm going wherever you go. You know that? Right?"

Harry had a smile come to his face. "I won't leave you behind," he promised. Harry really didn't want to be alone in life, and Hermione had been one of the few to ever stick with him.

"Even if you did, I would find you," she told him, a certain hint of the veracity of her convictions tinging her voice.

"Why do I feel a little fear at that statement when almost no one else scares me?"

She gave a soft chuckled. "I know your fear, Harry. You just don't let it get in your way."

"Probably," he said, leaning so his head was propped on her hair.

They sat like that far a while, people coming and going until they made it to a stop where they had to switch trains. Harry kept an eye open, but still didn't see anything that worried him. An hour later, Harry found himself walking through a neighborhood with high class townhouses. Many expensive cars and SUV's lined the street. Harry felt a little self conscious that his best clothes made him look like he didn't belong here. Hermione, on the other hand, had pulled out a nice dress and looked perfectly comfortable, except how she kept scanning around, like him, looking for trouble.

Hermione looked at the watch on her hand and then the dark house before them. "It's Friday. I think they often go out to dinner and should be back later," she told him.

"I really don't know if we have that long to wait," Harry told her.

Hermione frowned. "We have one more dose each of the aging potion. It will last another twelve hours and he have a good four or more on the current dose."

"I would like to save that if we need to act older to buy tickets or something," he replied.

Harry looked around before they crossed the street. Hermione dug into the pocket book on her shoulder looking for keys. Once inside, Harry had the impression that the house of was lived in, but clean. It was better than the almost manic way his aunt kept the house clean.

Hermione dropped her keys on the table, hung her pocket book and then moved towards the back of the house. "Let's see what we have for diner."

Harry followed. When she entered the kitchen, she indicated for him to sit at the table in the corner. Harry only put his jacket on the back of a chair and joined her. "What do you feel like? I see some chicken. We can make a salad. Not sure what we have for canned goods."

"If you make a salad I can put the chicken in a skillet," he offered.

"Sounds good," she said, starting to take out all the vegetables she could and Harry took the chicken thighs that were on the shelf. After showing him where the pans were and the spices, Harry got some oil and herbs going in the pan.

Hermione moved to an answering machine. Picking up the pen that was on a pad next to it, she pressed play. There was a call from a lawyer. Another from a therapist. Both just confirming appointments. The last call had Harry listening in as Hermione stood stone still.

"Beth? Are you there? Please pick up!" There was a short pause. "Listen. I don't know if you and George have left for the weekend, but Penelope had an accident today. The doctors say she'll be alright, but will be in the hospital for a few days. If you get this, I would really like it if you can come. We're at Chatham Knights. Give me a call and leave a message anyways. Love you."

"Who was that?"

"My Aunt Wendy. They live north of London in Tottenham," Hermione said. She looked really worried. "Harry, what if my parents went away for the weekend?"

He didn't know what to say to that. They had both thought her parents would be here and she really wanted to see them, and hopefully have them come. "I don't know. Who is Penelope?"

"My cousin. Do you think my parents went to go see her?"

"Possibly? Where is Chatham Knights?"

"I don't know. I assume in Tottenham," she told him.

Harry's stomach growled. "Let's eat and then decide what we want to do."

Hermione nodded.

-oOo-

Meanwhile at Hogwarts...

George laughed as he and Fred ran down the hallway. "You think this will finally send Umbridge about the twist?"

"I think so, dear brother of mine."

A red spell flew between their heads. "I like red, but not like that," George said.

Fred gave him a grin as they dashed around the corner and then behind a suit of armour.

"Get back here!" Malfoy bellowed.

Fred started to knock around the stone.

"There is a time to mess around," George commented.

"But now is not it. I get it," Fred said back. "Got it."

As the twins fell through a crack that suddenly appeared, there was a huge explosion that rocked this wing of the school. They both sported huge smiles as a croaking scream called out.

"I think..." Fred said.

"That our time here..." George continued.

"Is at a blazing end," Fred said. They stood for a few to hear the whistling of fireworks in the halls, and the scared croaking of a few frogs, before the stones closed up on the secret passage.

-oOo-

Back in Redhill...

They just finished cleaning the dishes when the telephone rang. They both looked at it. By some unsaid accord, they waited for the answering machine to pick up. "Beth? Are you there?"

Hermione moved quickly. "Hello, Aunt Wendy," Hermione said.

He heard a muffled "Hermione," and then just the soft murmurs of a muffled speaker.

"Yes."

"Yes."

"No. School got out a week early this year," Hermione told her aunt. "Oh, everything was fine, it was just a an issue with a gas line. How is Penelope?"

"Ahmmm. Ahmmm," Hermione hummed, as though agree with something. "I'm glad to hear she will be alright and the surgery went well. I'll be sure to pass all this along. I love you too, Aunt Wendy. Bye."

When she hung up, she started to make notes in the pad.

"Is your cousin alright?" Harry asked.

"She will be, but she broke her leg in a bad fall. I would like to see them, but I don't think we should stay around. My parents went out for a couples weekend out in Glasgow. They aren't supposed to be back until late Monday," she told him.

Harry pursed his lips. "Hermione, you don't have to come with me."

"If you think I left Hogwarts and agreed to convince my parents to leave was so that you could just scampering off, you have something else coming to you, Harry James Potter," Hermione told him.

Harry held up his hands. "Right. I'm not leaving you."

"Good. Now, what are we going to do?"

Harry ran his hand over the back of his head. "I don't know. We find a way to head to Canada?"

"We only have the one dose each left of the aging potion, but I can't leave my parents behind," Hermione told him.

Harry nodded. "Can you find where they are? I will see what I can to find a train schedule," Harry told her. He went to the phone. "You have a phone book?"

"In the draw. My mom usually leaves a schedule of any trips in the study in case someone needs to find us," Hermione told him, leaving the room.

By the time she came back, Harry had her bag and his. "I have a train, but we need to be at Kings Cross by ten."

"What time is is now?"

"Just eight," Harry told her. "Did you find where they are?"

"Hotel Indigo. What time will we get it?"

"About seven in the morning," Harry told her. "Do you want to get changed before we leave?"

Hermione shook her head. "I'll be fine. We just can't be caught."

"I know," Harry said, taking her hand.

-oOo-

About the same time Harry and Hermione were leaving her house...

Wiltshire, England

Dinner was a solemn affair in the small private dinning room in Malfoy Manor.

Lucius was silently eating his meal, brooding over the Dark Lords latest temper tantrum. Sirius Black had been expertly drawn out and killed by the dementors and lambasted by the Ministry. Unfortunately, Lucius had not anticipated that Black would find a way to outplay him. The will had arrived the other day and the damned blighted goblins would not hear a protects and threatened to cut off his credit if he tried to get the Wizengamot to change the will, since it would go against the betrothal and marriage contract with his wife.

Narcissa was sitting five feet away from him in the small dinning room.

Most of the rest of his manor was taken by his Lord and the other followers.

It had been a great privelidge to be chosen by the Dark Lord all those years ago. Then, the Dark Lord had died and Lucius got used to living well, being a business man and enjoying his house. Now he had three rooms that were his own. This dinning room, his study and the large guest bedroom on the west wing. His Dark Lord had taken the entire east wing.

When they were victorious, it would be worth it, and the Dark Lord would move to a new manor...

He was broken from his musing when the door to the dining room was pushed open. A young man, perhaps about twenty, marched in.

"What is this distrubance," Lucius said angrily. Narcissa just continues eating her soup. She had been very quiet the last few months as more and more of her house was taken over and a lifetime of her decorating or purchasing seemed to dissapear. Lucius had told her everything would be found, but he knew that riffraff like this boy and others had knicked or sold things for themselves or their Lord.

"This just came for you," the young man said, holding up two envelopes.

"You should address the Lord Malfoy in a proper way," Narcissa said in an acid tongue. The young man didn't look impressed.

"The Lady Malfoy is correct," Lucius confirmed. "Bring them here."

The man did, not looking pleased. Looking at the enveloped, Lucius smiled. The little blighters seemed to have finally come around. He opened the first letter and began to read.

-o-

To the Lord Malfoy,

As of the twenty-second of June, Gringotts has made the final ruling that the rightful heir of the House of Black has taken up their rightful place. As such, Gringotts is informing you that the House of Malfoy has three days to transfer the full amount of the loans, plus ten percent, that were backed by the Black family vaults. As of today, the full value is five-million, three-hundred and fourty thousand galleons, eight sickles and twelve knuts. With interested, the total amount to be presented is five-million, eight hundred seventy four thousand, nine sickles and fifteen knuts.

Should this not be presented to Gringotts by the twenty-fifth of June, a further ten percent shall be assessed with the total of six-million, four hundred and sixty-one thousand galleons, twelve sickle and twenty knuts.

Should these funds not be received, all Malfoy accounts shall be frozen, and confiscated should all reparations not be made by the twenty-second of July, nineteen hundred and ninety-five.

Gringotts looks forward to any correspondence or personal visits to resolved your outstanding debt.

Account Manager Turngut
Manager of Black and Potter Accounts

-o-

Lucius had lost colour while reading the letter. Enough that Narcissa asked, "Lucius, what is wrong? Are you alright?"

The man knew he didn't have those funds. Well, not immediately. He had more than seven millions galleons invested around the wizarding world, and a little over three-million in their vaults.

The door burst open again before he could answer. Lucius wand was drawn as the same young man marched in. "Lady Malfoy, a letter from Gringotts."

Lucius had a sinking feeling. He had no clue how to counter this, and the Dark Lord would not be pleased. Lucius owed the man a quarter-million galleons next month as part of his service. Narcissa took the envelope, a contemptuous look on her face as she took the envelope. "Thank you. You may go," she demanded.

"What is it?" Lucius asked.

She opened the envelope and soon was as pale as him.

"What is it, Narcissa?" he ordered.

She looked up at him. "I have been disowned and there is a demand to return my jewels and other items that came with my marriage contract. They say you have violated the agreement with your service to your Lord."

The fear in him was starting to be replaced with anger. "Potter," he snarled, ripping open the second letter. The pit of fear in him grew, forcing his anger to as well. He was required to repay the two hundred and fifty thousand galleon dowry, a few artifacts that he didn't have anymore and a quarter of his holding.

Jumping to his his, letting his temper overrule the fear of telling his master that he would be nearly broke in five days, he spat. "POTTER! I am going to kill and gut everyone around him. I will kill and gut any goblin that gets in my way..." he yelled as he stormed out of the small private dinning room.

-oOo-

June 23, 1996

Hogwarts, Scotland

Hogwarts was very quiet. It was freakishly quiet as they all sat in the great hall for breakfast.

The fireworks that the Weasley's had set off last night were still wheeling around the grounds. The sound filtering into the hall.

At the staff table, a puffy and bleary eyed Headmistress was glaring out at the hall.

"Last night, the criminal acts of George and Fred Weasley destroyed all three Defence Against the Dark Arts rooms, my offices and part of Gryffindor Tower. After this wonton destruction of historical property, all students shall be confined to their dorms for the last week of term. This means all students," she said, looking towards the Slytherin table.

"We have to know how they did that," Neville whispered to Ron, grinning to see the still toady like skin of Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass, Millicent Bulstrode, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. It was much of the Inquisitorial Squad.

"They are geniuses," Ron whispered back, unable to keep his joy out of his voice.

"A search of all trunks for contraband product shall be done over the next few days. Any student found to have any shall have fines assessed to their parents with possible time in a Ministry cell for the child. Now, prefects, escort your housemates to your common rooms," Professor Umbridge said.

Four older years stood at Slytherin. With just a few looks, all the students at the table stood and they started to make their way out of the hall. Umbridge glared at the other three tables. "Prefects, escort your houses," Umbridge ordered.

"I thought all the prefects resigned," Ron said to Neville.

"They did," Angelina whispered.

There was a very low level of murmuring.

"Prefects, escort your houses or you will have detention," Umbridge threatened.

"Excuse me, Headmistress," the diminutive Head of Ravenclaw said.

"What?" Umbridge snapped, her patience having already been short. A tick went at her left cheek as a firework flew in the still destroyed windows of the great hall. It whistled through, the back out.

"All the other prefects have handed in their badges. It is only your inquisitorial squad and the sixth and seventh year prefects for Slytherin left," Flitwick stated, looking towards the two members of said squad that were still in Hogwarts.

The womanj's tick grew. "Then have older students take them that you trust."

"All seventh years in Hufflepuff and Gryffindor have left the school after the last NEWTS were over yesterday, as did most of the Ravenclaw," Professor Sprout added.

There was a wave of anger over her face. "They will all fail," she snapped.

"You would have to talk to the education board," Flitwich pointed out.

"I. Don't. Care. Get. The. Whelps. Out. Of. Here," Umbridge said through gritted teeth.

Flitwick returned a smile. "Of course, Headmistress."

McGonagall was still at St. Mungo's after being stunned last night when Umbridge and most of the Inquisitorial Sqaud was trying to capture the Weasley's, as was every member of the Inquisitorial Squad. From what they had heard from the portraits, it sounded like they were all hurt really badly. Umbridge showed the signs of the hard fight against the firework with half her hair singed off and her right arm in a sling. It was probably also why she had three Aurors guarding her now.

Flitwick moved to the Hufflepuffs first. "Come along," he said.

The table stood for him and started to follow.

"I meant all of them!" Umbridge bellowed.

Flitwick turned as the Hufflepuffs stopped. "I'm sorry, Headmistress, but Education decree one hundred and twenty-four forbids any intermingling of other houses outside of classes. Shall I hand myself into the Aurors now and have all the students be ready to be expelled?"

Umbridge turned a nice puce colour. Ron had a hard time to not laugh. She looked ready to explode. Getting up, she stalked around the table and out towards the doors. "Just get it done," the woman snapped as she passed Flitwick. Ron and others chuckled.

"Now, now. We mustn't disparage the Headmistress. I'm sure there is a rule or decree against making her pinker than her robes," Flitwick said rather serious. There was more laughter. Flitwick smiled before saying. "Hufflepuff, follow me. Ravenclaw, Mr. Corner and Ms. Patil, would make sure everyone makes it back post haste? No wandering or dawdling. I will be up soon. Mr. and Ms. Weasley, the same."

"Yes, sir," Ron said before calling out. "You heard him. Everyone up to the common room."

-oOo-

Close to 8:00 AM

Deep under London, England

Ragnok sat at the large round table of the clans. It was undisputed that the Gringott's clans sat in the position of power, even though the other nine clans of Western Marches were afforded equal space at the table. It was a tradition started in the days of Merlin and Arthur, when goblins were still allowed to roam free and the wars of man and goblin were honourable affairs, fought over simple things like the best mines and wealth.

Now, he was looking at was left of the great hordes that once were.

Gringott's the most powerful of the eleven clans still left, held vast amounts of wealth and more than thirty-thousands of goblins across six nations of man. It didn't matter that only a tenth of what they guarded was theres. It was still treasure and they were still allowed to demand payment for their protection.

To his right was the Harpsspear Clan. Bankers, like the Gringott's, they were by far the second strongest clan to be at the table. Estimates put their numbers at close to ten thousand, and their five banks held about half as much as Gringotts. The aged beauty with the golden earing and nasty snarl was the envy of any man. To have such a powerful woman, it was guaranteed to have powerful offspring. Too bad Earrot was beyond her childbearing years.

Next was the Pignose clan. Mostly miners from the Austrian Alps region, they stood close to the Harpspear strength, but had no interactions with humans. The metals and gems they mined helped to keep the wizarding world in new coin and jewelry.

Third from Ragnok was the small clan of Widowmark. Craftsmen and Axe Masters, the Widowmark were maybe two or three thousand goblins strong, but were afford such a high place due to their craftsmen and armourers. Many of the goblins' greatest works had come from the hands of that clan. Their chief was a large goblin, covered in scars and brandishing massive arms from years at the furnace.

The Quillen, Santogore and Deepwells were all six of seven thousand goblins each. They were a mix of miners, axe and sword men, crafters and builders that contracted their abilities through the banks of Gringott's and Harpspear.

The last four clans were smaller or impoverished, as they either had been broken in wars long gone and never recovered, or failed to adapt to the changing world in the last millenia. Ragnok wouldn't usually care for them, but together they represented another ten or fifteen thousand goblins.

In total, all the major clans from Greenland to Urals were here. The best estimates put their total host at about eighty-five thousand, with about forty-five thousand of age to fight. There were maybe a few thousand others in unaffiliated groups or clans unable to muster the coin to be part of the Goblin Council.

To have a possible army of forty-five thousand, he estimated that perhaps thirty-thousand would be able to draw a blade and stand on the frontlines. They could not leave their holding unprotected, and he would not risk their entire host should things go pear-shaped, as Muggle humans like to say.

He watched the snipping and snearing between the clan chiefs as he and Earrot just sat back. They were waiting for the first bell of Togard - the time after the sun rose.

Then a large bell rang and reverbated though out the large chamber, Ragnok leaned forward. He banged his massive two-handed sword on the table. It was tradition to put your blade, pommel towards the centre, to indicate that this was a place of peace. Well, as much peace as goblins could have. THey all still had daggers or other blades that could be easily drawn. This was why there was ten feet between each goblin that sat at the table. None would be able to strike without seeing it first.

"Why have you called us?" the gurg from Santogore demanded.

"It is unusual to call such an impromptu meeting. The protocols call for a week minimum," Earrot commented.

"Did you just call us here to show off the wealth of Gringotts?" one of the lesser clan chiefs shouted out.

He let everyone make atleast one demand or insult before he knocked his gauntlet covered hand on the stone table.

"Gringotts had been presented with chance to finally make our greatest enemy bow to our will here in England," he said, seeing that he got quite a few curious looks of feral smiles.

"Surely you jest, Ragnar. You can not think to challenge the humans? The last time we did, there were four clans the size of Gringotts, and we still were forced to bend to the wizards' will," Rotfoot of the Festernell clan said with a snarl.

"There were also more wizards back then," Ragnar states. "Our numbers are diminished, but I don't see thta our fighting spirit is. I also have magic on our side this time. The human, Harry Potter, has called in clauses of contracts that predate our last disgrace, as well as having proof that some Ministries have violated their end of the treaties."

There was a general howl of approval and anger around the room. When Earrot rose her hand, the dim calmed. "What is this about clauses and violations. Do you name humans oathbreakers?"

There was an excited murmur around the room.

Ragnar gave an evil looking grin. "I name them Oathbreakers here in England, Germany and Italy. Here in England, I name the Ministry thief as well."

There was a general sound of hissing in the room. Taking that which is not yours, or genuinely not claimed, was an even greater crime than Oathbreaker.

"This would mean war between the clans and the Wizards," one of the lesser clan chiefs said. Ragnog wasn't sure if the woman was excited or fearful of that possibility.

"It has been a long time since an axe or hammer has been raised to the wizards," Earrot said thoughtfully.

Galbreaker of the Pignose clan spoke next. "My clan has long toiled in the dark, dank, and many times dangerous mines to sell out wealth for a fraction of what we could gain if it went to the non-magicals instead of the wizards. To gain access to other markets could be worth it."

"I have many young that wish to blood themselves, but are only confined to our arenas," Rotfoot said. "We peddle for warriors from the other clans, but many want to see the light of day shine off of blood again, instead of sunstones in our lands."

"We would claim back what is ours," the large clan cheif of the Widowmark said with some satisfaction.

"I see there is interest," Ragnog said with a smile, baring his teeth. This set some of the lesser clans on edge. "The Potter welp has given us a means to weaken the British wizards. I have nine-months to a year to build up a force. You all have three months to decide if you will follow my lead hear in Britian, then we can look at the other places we have a foothold."

One of the gurgs from the lesser clans shot out of his seat. "I will pledge two legions. nine-hundred foot each."

Ragnog had expected that. He nodded.

"The Harpspears must meet with our council. I will not commit anything at this time," Earrot said.

"The Widowmark will pledge a hundred craftsmen and blackmiths. I will bring this back to my people for volunteers, but we will not be involved in this directly."

Ragnog had expected that, though he had hoped for double that number of blacksmiths.

And so it went around the room. By the time it ws done, he had seven new legions, all between seven hundred and a thousand strong, with some resources to be given back with interest, whether the potential war goes in Gringotts favor or not.

-oOo-

Close to 8:00 AM

Glasgow, Scotland

They were looking at the hotel from a block down. Hermione was looking paranoid, constantly trying to size up anyone that walked near the old five story building. Harry was being a little more circumspect. "Do you think it's safe?" Hermione asked.

"I think we should do this now. Fred and George haven't been compromised yet and I don't know how much longer we have before they find we're missing," he told her.

She bit her lip before nodded. Taking his hand, she ordered, "Let's go."

Harry pulled her back just a little. If they were trying not to draw attention to themselves then they shouldn't run through the streets. She got what he meant without words and fell in besides him. They were able to make it to the hotel, finding her parents in the restaurant eating breakfast.

Hermione walked in, looking very nervous. Her parents were quietly talking with each other as she walked up to them and pulled out a chair. When they looked up, her mother exclaimed, "Hermione! What are you doing here? You're supposed to be at school."

"Mom, can we go to your room or somewhere else?" she requested, moving to hug her mother as she stood up.

"What is going on, young lady?" her father demanded.

"Dad, please, not here," Hermione told him, seeing a few others looking towards them now.

"Who is this?" her father demanded.

"You know Harry, dad. Mum, please," Hermione begged.

"George, can you take care of the bill and come right up to the room?" her mum asked.

Harry stepped forward. "This should cover it, right?" he said putting a £50 note on the table.

Her father looked up sharply to Harry. "Where did you get that? That is two or three meals."

"Mum, we really don't have time for this," Hermione told her parents.

"George, drop it. Come on, hunny. Harry, it's good to see you again," her mum said leading them away from table.

When the door of their hotel room closed, her mum put a hand on her dad's arm to keep him from exploding. "Now, what is going on?"

Hermione took a deep breath. Harry's hand found his way into hers. She didn't miss that her parents watched what they did. "We're all in danger and need to leave the country. Now," she said in a rush.

"WHAT! Is it this boy!" her father exploded. He made a threatening move towards them. Harry's hand left hers. He pushed her back, his wand coming up and her mother grabbing at her father's hand.

"I am not making Hermione do anything. If she wants to stay she can, but if she does, I will too," Harry told them.

Her father looked at Harry's wand as sparks shot out the end. Like a Muggle with a gun pointing at him, her father was rather apprehensive.

"Harry, don't," Hermione said quietly, pushing his arm down.

"Hermione, maybe you should explain before your father goes after Harry," her mum said. "We haven't heard from you in months and you just show up here?"

Hermione had to put push weight behind her push to get Harry out of the way. "Harry, put your wand away. We haven't been able to write or contact anyone outside of Hogwarts since about Christmas. The Ministry is intercepting all owls and monitoring all the other ways we can try to contact someone. Harry and others have been tortured by the Ministry. His godfather was killed in April. Harry fought Voldemort again. I spent two weeks in the hospital after a Death Eater almost killed me and I am pretty sure the Death Eaters and the Ministry mean to get rid of us."

She had tears in her eyes. Her parents knew most of what happened at Hogwarts, except for the troll and her being petrified for a month second year. She had convinced them that attending school and learning magic was the best way for her to protect herself. Now it was just too much.

Both her parents were a little shocked. After a second, her father asked, "This boy did that?"

"I never intentionally put Hermione or anyone else in danger," Harry said in a strained voice. She knew how much Sirius and Cedric's deaths hung on him.

"That is enough, George. Is this all true?" Her mum looked to her.

Hermione nodded. "Harry show her your hand."

Reluctantly he held up his right hand. The thin, pale white lines spelling out 'I will not tell lies.' could clearly be seen.

Her mum gasped. "Where did you get that? Is that a scar?"

"Professor Umbridge. I know I told you about her when I could still send letters," Hermione told them.

Her father's anger turned more pensive. "How did that happen?"

"Umbitch had me write lines with a magical quill called a blood quill. It uses my own blood. After a while, the wounds wouldn't heal properly," Harry told them.

Her mother paled and her father looked angry again, but not at him. "Is that like those quills the goblins had use use when we opened your vault?"

Hermioned nodded. Her father rubbed the back of his hand. "How many times does that take? We only had a slight rash for a few minutes."

Harry didn't answer. "Hundreds, if not thousands of times," Hermione finally answered.

Her mother gave Harry a sympathetic look. Her father asked, "Hermione, are you and Harry in trouble? Are people after you?"

"I'm sure the Ministry will be after us once they know we are missing," Harry told him. "I don't want to push, but we really need to leave. Hermione was thinking we could take the train to London again, then the Eurostar to the chunnel. If we can get to France, or Switzerland, there are no extradition treaties between their Ministries."

"Well, France defers to the ICW, but the warrants would have to come from them," Hermione couldn't help herself.

"We can't just up and leave," her father said.

"How long have you been gone?"

"Since lunch time yesterday," she told her parents.

"And they aren't looking for your yet?" her father inquired.

"Some of our friends are covering for us. Fred and George promised us two days. OUr friends are all planning to leave by tomorrow night," Harry told them.

There was a heavy silence. Hermione slipped her hand into Harry's. Harry squeezed back.

"Get our bags packed. I'll do see the front desk to get us tickets. Would a plane be better? Do you have your passport?" her mother asked.

Hermione felt a huge weight fall off her chest. "We have papers and passports from Gringotts, mum. I don't think a train or plane will matter, we just need to be moving."

Her father gave her mother a look that she returned. After a moment, her father sighed. "I'll get the bags. Call your sister, too. Let her know we are extending our trip."

"Oh, that's right. Aunt Wendy called when we stopped by home," Hermione told her mother.