Hopefully this chapter signals the end (or the beginning of the end) of the dialogue-heavy chapters, which is something I've noticed in the previous few.
Definitely not late on this chapter either...
Enjoy!
Ripclaw looked visibly stunned for a second, before actually snarling and slamming down on a large white button. The button flashed red briefly, as did the 3 office doors.
"Please forgive me, I was quite surprised that a time-traveller would come to Gringotts first, rather than your Ministry. I have merely sealed the doors to the office and turned off any conversation recording magics." Ripclaw said, by way of explanation.
"I am now declaring this conversation need-to-know, only the Goblin King, or the Head of the Bank will be allowed to know of this conversation." Ripclaw formally informed the pair.
What Ripclaw didn't inform them was that the Goblin King and the Head of Gringotts were titles held by the same goblin – King Ragnok.
Ripclaw also didn't say that Gringotts would consider this a victory over the Wizarding ministry. The documents created here today would need to be sent to the ministry, when the time-traveller inevitably needed to formalise his identity as a British wizard, meaning the ministry would need to come to Gringotts.
"This merely ensures security and your safety during your stay here at Gringotts. I hope this will give you peace of mind, in the event that your status as a time-traveller is leaked to the public, that Gringotts was not at fault." Ripclaw said, looking sharply at Jack.
"Thank you for your thoughtfulness on the issue, Ripclaw. With that in mind, if my status does become public knowledge, rest assured I will not find fault with Gringotts." Jack replied, just as formally.
"Now that is out of the way," Jack started, relaxing slightly, "I have no proof of my identity as a British citizen, or British wizard. Would Gringotts be able to assist me in creating my identity, or would I have to go to the Ministry of Magic for this?"
Jack smirked internally. He knew the goblins would love to get one over on the ministry, considering how poorly they get treated. It was highly likely the goblins would do everything in their power to assist him, before he made the daunting visit to the Ministry – or maybe even the Department of Mysteries – to register his status as a time-traveller.
"Gringotts will be able to assist you in creating a magical identity, mister…?" Ripclaw started. "Starburn." Jack interjected, at Ripclaw's verbal hint.
"Mister Starburn, Gringotts can set up the basis for a magical identity, that can be requested by the ministry at any time. We require some of your blood, and a small fee."
"Done." Harry interjected, before Jack could respond. "We need to get you all set-up here, before we go over to the ministry at some point."
Jack nodded, surprised that Harry was thinking that far ahead. "I guess I should give him a bit more credit."
"With regards to a muggle identity, how difficult would it be for me to acquire one," Jack asked, curiously.
"It is likely that your Ministry would be able to create a muggle identity for you, Mr. Starburn. Gringotts will unfortunately be unable to provide you with one." Ripclaw replied, grimacing at the thought of losing out to the ministry, before offering a knife to Jack.
Jack took the knife, knowing he was safe to present his blood here.
Ripclaw set down a large basin on the table in front of him – which looked a bit like the upper part of a birdbath, except the rim was adorned with strange symbols – and said; "Make sure your blood falls into this bowl, the cut will seal itself once we have enough."
Surprised at the magics at work, Jack cut himself on the knife, wincing slightly as his palm split open and blood trickled down his hand, before dripping alarmingly fast into the basin below.
A few seconds later, Jack felt a tickling sensation as the skin on his hand knitted itself up, leaving no evidence that there had ever been a cut there in the first place.
Harry and Jack watched as a blood-red mist rose from the basin, casting strange, seemingly undecipherable, patterns in the air that changed every few seconds.
Ripclaw however, appeared to have no trouble reading the strange writing.
"Although the frowning doesn't look good." Thought Jack.
Ripclaw paused in his writing and looked up sharply at Jack. "Mister Starburn, I've seen many different beings during my time, yet you are something different."
Jack jumped in, before Harry could say something, "Perhaps you could elaborate a bit, Ripclaw, I find myself at a bit of a loss here."
Sending him a sharp look, Ripclaw did exactly as asked. "Initially, the magics struggled to record your parentage, but it finally gave me a few names. Can I presume your father is 'Michael Christopher Starburn'? And your mother is 'Michelle Tracey Starburn'?"
His heart-rate increasing slightly, Jack felt his blood rush at hearing the names of his parents. Willing himself to focus on the present, and not the past… Or the future… Jack replied in the affirmative.
"No siblings?"
An awkward silence filled the air, as a distraught expression appeared over Jack's face.
"No, no, that can't be right. Two… I have two brothers. Samuel, and Archibald…"
Frowning further still, Ripclaw spat something that sounded suspiciously like a curse. "Understandable. Time-travel is a messy business. I'm guessing that your two brothers were born after 1992?"
Jack nodded, unwilling to divulge that he too, was born after 1992.
"Very well, moving on. We can detect your magical core. However, it is… Unusual, to say the least."
Jack and Harry both frowned in confusion, and Harry blurted something out before Jack could stop him: "But, you could see the Leaky Cauldron, and the Knight Bus. So, you're not a muggle or anything, right?"
Horrified at the thought of the goblins realising that he had knowledge of the future of the wizarding world, Jack interjected, "I told you, Harry, I was a muggle before all of this happened. I can't explain why I would have a magical core now. Especially as I couldn't use your wand."
"It seems, mister Starburn, that you were what the Ministry would call a Squib. A being with a magical core, but no ability to do magic, although you can interact with many forms of magic, such as object already imbued with magic."
An interruption to the conversation came in the form of another bauble on Ripclaw's desk lighting up a bright green colour.
Huffing slightly, Ripclaw pressed another button, and the side door slid open, allowing a heavily scarred goblin to hobble into the room.
The goblin handed Ripclaw a small black bag, grumbled something that neither of the pair could hear, before turning and hobbling out the same door he entered.
Ripclaw turned to look at Harry, before saying, "This is your 'magical money bag', as you called it earlier. The cost has been deducted from your Trust vault. It has been filled with 1,000 Galleons, taken from your Trust vault."
Handing the bag over to Harry, Ripclaw continued: "Simply open this bag, tap the rim and incant, 'Mensio'. The bag will then show you an accurate account of the money held within."
Turning back towards Jack, Ripclaw said: "We've created the necessary documents regarding your magical identity. However, our own magics identify your status as Unknown, rather than Wizard, Squib, or Muggle."
That brought Jack up short. He'd expected to be labelled a Squib, or Muggleborn with particularly weak magic. What the heck did Unknown mean?
"This question might sound redundant, but do you have any idea what Unknown could mean?"
At hearing Jack's question, Ripclaw frowned further. "It simply means our magics have never come across something like you in the history of Goblin Identification magic. We have no records to reference from. You are something… New."
Ignoring their surprised, but confused faces, Ripclaw continued: "This could simply be your status as a Squib-like Muggleborn, or something different entirely. A different kind of magic user that we've yet to come across. If it is a new kind of magic, I suggest you come back here to register your status with us once you have discovered it."
"I certainly will," Jack replied instantly. "Thank you for your time today, Ripclaw. We shall see you next weekend."
"August 8th." Ripclaw confirmed, as he stood, stepping away from his desk. "I will show the both of you out."
Following the goblin out of the office, and through the many corridors of Gringotts, Jack and Harry eventually found themselves back in the main hall.
Turning to the pair, Ripclaw stated formally: "Our business has now concluded. I hope you found Gringotts to be satisfactory on this occasion."
Harry surprised Jack by taking the lead by bowing, before saying, "Gringotts has been most satisfactory, thank you, Ripclaw."
Jack bowed as well. "Heir Potter and I thank you, and Gringotts, for your hospitality during our time here. Business was fruitful, and I'm sure there will be many new opportunities open between us and Gringotts in the future."
Smiles were exchanged between the group – a tooth-filled one from the goblin and closed-mouth ones from the two humans – before Harry and Jack left the bank.
"That was weird." Harry's first comment as they left the bank did not surprise Jack.
The goblins were less viscous than Jack had expected them to be, based on his knowledge of canon, and some of the horror stories he'd read from various fanfiction writers. Then again, he was with Harry, and the House of Potter was likely a wealthy client.
"Very wealthy." Jack thought, thinking back on the number Ripclaw had provided the pair. Fifty-two Million Galleons. Jack hadn't exactly got a frame of reference for the local economy and how much things cost yet, but that seemed like enough to last a couple of lifetimes. "Or perhaps last 1 very old Wizard a lifetime." He mused.
Then there was the whole 'House of Potter' thing. The fact they were a Most Ancient and Noble House wasn't all that surprising, although the Sacred Twenty-Eight thing was interesting, even if House Potter wasn't one. He'd have to quiz Harry's knowledge of it all at some point soon. Although he doubted Harry knew a lot. The pair of them definitely had some research to do.
"Any questions should wait until we reach the manor. We can talk about mundane stuff over some food. Sound good?" Jack asked, in reply.
Harry nodded, "I have a lot of questions, but I suppose I can wait a bit longer."
The pair made their way back down the cobbled street of Diagon Alley. Both of them attempted to ignore the many questions that plagued their minds, although their questions were radically different from one another.
Harry decided to voice one of the things on his mind: "I think we need to get you some temporary robes, in case people start looking at you funny."
Harry had a good point. Already, Jack had noticed the stares of the few wizards and witches that were wandering through the alley. There would be a lot more stares if people started to recognise Harry. If only he'd gotten some robes on the way to Gringotts…
Fortunately, Jack remembered there was a small junk shop nearby, which sold things like old cloaks, and robes. Harry and Hermione had gone there during their… 3rd year?
A few short minutes later, and a small argument over money, Jack and Harry left the shop with Jack wearing a 2nd hand robe and some darker, loose-fitting trousers.
They'd also bought a small bag with a space-expansion charm on it, which currently contained Jack's previous clothes, and the non-electrical items he'd bought with him. Jack didn't trust the bag with his phone and was mildly surprised it hadn't exploded already with all the surrounding magic. It was fortunate they hadn't needed to actually go to any of Harry's vaults; going through the Thief's Downfall, or some other similar Goblin magics, would have definitely fucked Jack's phone up.
After a few minutes of walking in silence, both of them deep in thought, the pair arrived at the entrance to the alley. Fortunately, it was already open, as neither of them knew how to open it from this side of the alley. Was it the same series of taps? Was it in reverse? Or something different entirely?
Quickly stepping through before it closed on them, the pair walked through the courtyard of the Leaky Cauldron, and entered the pub.
Once inside, they walked over to Tom, who had noticed them enter and rushed to the end of the bar closest to the courtyard.
"Alright lads?" The barman asked, eying Jack suspiciously.
"We're good, thanks Tom," Harry said in reply, "But we could use some food."
"Aye. I'll get ye' a menu." Jack nodded in thanks, surprised the pub even had a menu.
The trio, led by Tom, walked over to one of the darker corners of the pub, illuminated only by dim candle-light. Finally seated on some surprisingly comfortable chairs, Jack finally allowed himself to relax slightly. He'd been tense during the entire adventure, but thankfully the main portion of their immediate tasks was complete.
They quickly ordered some food from Tom, two Steak and Kidney pies with chips, and two Butterbeers, on Jack's recommendation. Harry gave Tom 2 Galleons and told him to keep the change.
"So…" Harry started, ignoring Jack's sudden sharp look, "Tell me about the family status thing, because I don't get it."
Jack couldn't contain the surprise he felt. "Really? Of all the things, that's what you ask about?"
Harry gave him a glare in response, before glumly taking a sip of his butterbeer. "Well, it's not like I can ask about anything important, is it?" Harry paused slightly, considering the taste of the drink. "Hey, this is actually pretty good."
Chuckling, Jack understood his point. "Okay, fair enough. Let's see, what do I know about all that?"
Jack decided the best place to start would be different house titles, and their meanings, as well as the Sacred Twenty-Eight, before moving onto the Wizengamot, and the different political blocks.
"From my understanding, there are four titles a house – which is basically a family – can have; Ancient, Noble, Most Ancient, and Most Noble. I don't know about Ancient, Most Ancient, or Noble, but as Ripclaw explained earlier, Most Noble was a recent title given to a bunch of Pure Blood families in the Wizengamot at the time."
"I don't know how titles are assigned, but I presume it's one of the duties of the Wizengamot." Jack added, thoughtfully.
"An example of a prominent family would be the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Malfoy, whom you might be familiar with." Here, Jack winked at Harry, who shot him a disgruntled look in return. "The Malfoy family came to Britain during the Battle of Hastings, way back in 1066. And as they were on the Sacred Twenty-Eight list they get the title of Most Noble."
"What's the Wizengamot? Ripclaw mentioned it a couple of times as well." Harry asked curiously, seemingly wanting to genuinely learn about wizarding culture and history.
"Wizarding Politics isn't my strong suit, but I'm going to make an effort to learn what I can in the future. But for now, think of it like this: The laws are proposed, debated and confirmed there. Criminal trials are also held before the Wizengamot."
An older Wizard on the table next to Harry and Jack's, who had been quietly listening to the conversation up to this point, chimed in: "The lad is right. The Wizengamot is split into three main voting blocs; The Traditionalists, who are basically blood purists, led by that swine Lucius Malfoy. The Progressives, who are Dumbledore's lot, are pretty much the opposite. And finally, the Centrists, usually led by Cyrus Greengrass; they're more neutral on most topics, but have the power to make or break policies proposed by either side."
"Could you tell me the names of any more prominent families within the Centrists? I'm aware of most of the Traditionalist and Progressive families, such as Nott, Zabini, and Parkinson from the former, as well as Longbottom, and Weasley from the Progressives." Jack replied, curious to see if there were any families he recognised.
Harry perked up when he heard Jack say the latter 2 names. "Must be relatives of Neville, and Ron." He thought.
"As I mentioned lad, Cyrus Greengrass is the figurehead of the party, but some more prominent members would be Amelia Bones, Head of the DMLE; Lorcan Goldstein, who owns a large muggle gold investment company, works closely with the goblins, I hear; and Tyler Davis, one half of 'Davis & Macmillans' - they supply shops like Madam Malkin's, and Twilfitt and Tatting's."
"The 'Golden Year' is right then. So many Heirs, or members of prominent families, are in Harry's year at Hogwarts. Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, Daphne Greengrass, Tracey Davis, Susan Bones, Ernie Macmillan, and Anthony Goldstein. And those are just the obvious ones. That's a good chunk of the Sacred Twenty-Eight too!"
Fortunately, in Harry's opinion, or unfortunately in Jack's, their food arrived before Jack could reply with more questions, and the old Wizard left them to it.
"We need to find out everything we can when we get home," Jack said, quietly. Harry began to smile at the thought of having a proper home. Number 4 Privet Drive would never be a home to him.
"What are you going to do about…" Harry started, before trailing off. Jack understood what he was trying to say, but only shook his head in response.
The pair finished their food in silence, and with a "Time to go" from Jack, and a nod towards the old wizard on the table next to them, Harry and Jack moved towards the fireplace.
"Alrighty kiddo, I'll go first, since you've never done this before, and neither have I," Jack said, muttering the last part.
"All you have to do is grab a handful of Floo Powder, and throw half into the fireplace, wait for the flames to turn green. Then step into the fireplace and turn to face the room. Then throw the rest of it at your feet, and clearly say the name of the place we're going to." Jack said, pointing at the Floo Powder bowl on the fireplace mantle-piece.
"Don't worry about keeping the floo address a secret, the fireplace has a silencing bubble around it, to protect the user's privacy, and to keep the other patrons from being disturbed by the fire." Jack finished, before adding, "You'll see what I mean by that in a second," at Harry's confused look.
Jack confidently walked up to the fireplace and dipped his hand into the Floo Powder bowl. Grabbing a hand full of the powder, which felt like particularly heavy sand, Jack threw roughly half into the yellow flames of the fireplace.
As if by magic, the flames whooshed, and turned a brilliant green. With a stiff back, and an attempt to hide his own nervousness, Jack strode into the fire.
Surprisingly, he didn't feel anything. He looked down and saw a grate below his feet, which contained some logs which appeared to fuel the fire. Looking up and directly at Harry, Jack threw the rest of the Floo Powder at his feet, and at the same time clearly incanted: "Stinchcombe Pottery."
With a roar, the green flames rushed up over Jack's body and to the top of the fireplace. By the time they had receded, Jack had disappeared in the flames.
Harry was suddenly glad there was a bubble of silence around the fireplace, as he was unable to hide his cry of surprise when Jack vanished, and merely watched for a moment as the flames settled down into a soft yellow fire.
Nervously, he grabbed his own handful of powder. Remembering his instructions, Harry threw roughly half into the flames, watching as they once again turned green.
Stepping into the fire, he too was surprised to find there was no pain, no feeling at all.
Clearing his throat, unwilling for there to be any sort of mess up, Harry thought about the idea of having a proper home. "Stinchcombe Pottery," he nearly shouted, throwing the rest of the Floo Powder at the flames between his feet.
With another roar, his world turned green, as he too was whisked away.
