Lost in Harry Potter
by 80sarcades
Disclaimer: Does anyone actually believe that I own Harry Potter?
Chapter 3: Of Goblins, Cauldrons, and Plans
That night, I was in a comfortable bed at the Leaky Cauldron. The room needed a little cleaning, but who cared? It beat staying at Chateau Dursley; at least I can get room service here.
Vernon, true to his word, drove me out of the garage while I hid in the backseat. He didn't say a word to me as he let me and my trunk off at a nearby park. After he drove off, I raised my wand to call for the Knight Bus.
Fortunately, with a little bit of luck no one really recognized me beyond Tom, the owner of the Leaky Cauldron. Which was really good, since I needed a disguise.
What I actually needed was a good charm. The next morning, I sent Hedwig off to get one. A book, actually. It took about 15 tries before I was able to grow my hair long enough to cover the scar and change my appearance. I have this strong urge to shave it all off and be done with it; I really don't know how women put up with long hair, especially when it's hot.
After a bit of breakfast, I was out in Diagon Alley heading for my next destination: Gringotts. They were integral to my plan to end Harry's war. When I say 'plan' it's on the order of Doctor Who: crazy, but brilliant. Well, crazy anyway.
The Goblins, true to form, were cranky, didn't say much, and looked nasty. My kind of people. I managed to convince the teller that I needed to see someone in charge of the Potter account, and I was ushered in to see another irritated goblin. This one, however, managed to smile. You know, the kind of smile Hitler's Gestapo got when they got a fresh victim.
"I'm Silclaw, Mr. Potter," the goblin rasped. "How can I help you?" At least this chap sounded polite; I took the offered seat before he sat down.
"Well, I have a little problem you may be able to fix. You are in charge of my family's accounts, right?" I asked.
"Of course." The he/she/it/whatever smiled even more. Just how much of a cut is he getting, anyway? Ah, who cares. It's not mine, damn it. I listened as he continued.
"However, the main family accounts will not be available until you turn seventeen. Until then, Gringotts manages the investments in accordance with your parent's will," Silclaw explained.
"Ok. However, I do have another question to ask, Guardian of my Vaults."(1)
Silclaw puffed up his chest and stood at attention in his chair, looking excited as hell. You'd think he'd just been promoted or was on drugs. To be fair, I heard that title in another Harry Potter story. Couldn't resist using it.
"I'm sure you have the discretion to use the funds for certain purposes?"
"Yes," Silclaw acknowledged readily. "However, it is for very limited purposes. What did you have in mind?"
"Oh, I'm sure that you've heard that some wizards are back in town," I said offhandedly.
A dark look quickly passed over Silclaw's face. "We have…heard…that fact," he said in a hard voice.
Interesting. He used the word 'fact' instead of 'rumor.' Suggests they're smarter than the Ministry of Magic. But then again, who isn't?
"Oh, it's true," I said, a bit flippantly. "You might have also heard that the head wizard is back also."
The goblin nodded, still curious.
"You might also remember that they don't like me very much. Except as target practice," I said.
"What is your point?" Silclaw asked curtly, not wanting to waste time.
I told him. Plain and simple, what I wanted done. I wished I had a camera for the gobsmacked expression on his face. Funny as hell.
It took him a moment before he could speak. "You are aware that would take a…significant…portion of your family's fortune?" he stuttered.
"Yup. It can be done, though? In the interests of…security?" I let the last word hang.
For a moment, Silclaw paused while I studied the emotions on his face. Naturally, greed won out. Relatives and goblins are so predictable.
"I will have to take it to the council, but…in the interest of the last Potter heir, and one of our largest depositors…" He let the statement hang. "I don't see a problem. Now, as to the details of the contract…"
Twenty minutes later, Silclaw was holding a signed contract in his clawed hand even as he grinned like a reelected politician. He promised to owl me before anything was done.
"Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Potter?" he asked. Funny, how people will smile when they take your money. Almost like they're laughing at you…
"Ah, yes sir, just one more thing," I said, doing my best Colombo impression. "You know what a Horcrux is?"
From the look on his face, I knew I had just struck oil.
At least he wasn't smiling anymore.
Two hours later, I left Gringotts.
Thanks to some arm twisting by Silclaw, I now had a full set of papers for one Harry James. Like everywhere else, my driving licence photo sucks, even if has Harry's picture on it. In the wallet, also, was a Gringotts credit card and banknotes; it was time to have some fun.
I collected my things from the Leaky Cauldron and headed into the Muggle world for the most expensive hotel I could find. You know, the one that has the good massage and room services. Plus the classy call girls in the bar.
Even with the new documents, the desk clerk at the Regency gave me his best 'screw off' stare that ended quickly after I threw three 100 pound notes on the desk as a tip. Several minutes later I was in a nice plush suite taking a shower. When I called room service a bit later to order some dinner and wine, I wondered how the Dursleys were doing. Naturally, being a decent guy, I had held up my end of the deal while I was at the bank.
Vernon answered, and for once he remained civil. Yes, he had gotten the money. Yes, the Order of the Fried Chicken was still watching the house; he had seen strangely dressed 'freaks' around. Yes, he would keep up 'appearances.' I thanked him and hung up. Never hurts to be polite, even if I am paying the bastard. I idly wonder if Petunia will do him in once the money flow stops. Hmmm…
The next morning, after a peaceful night's sleep, I received a letter from the goblins informing me that my request had been approved; they would owl me when they were ready. Between that and the other surprise I have planned, it would take about a month before me and Voldie could have fun. Cool, especially since everyone will think I'm 'safe' at the Dursleys. I sat there the rest of the day and watched TV while keeping the kitchen busy. You'd think that with satellite TV there would actually be something on. But no….
All I could do was wait. And get lucky.
The days just seemed to blur by until the second letter from the Goblins arrived. Dear God, has it really been a month? I sent their owl back with an acknowledgement; they would deliver the 'presents' that morning to Lord Voldermort's doorstep. Plus my note; can't forget that!
After a lot of sightseeing, fine liquor, and numerous hookers it was time. Wow, you can really have fun spending someone else's money. Hopefully the call girls didn't give anything back. Contagious, that is.
The second part of my plan was already in place. Fred and George are, for lack of a better word, brilliant; they came through in fine style while keeping our correspondence secret. It took them less than a week to deliver the object now in my possession. Now all I have to do is hope Voldie comes through on his end -- which he should -- and then we'll have some fun!
Somehow, I found my clothes in the middle of all this mess before I went downstairs to enjoy a delicious breakfast. As I dipped my fork into the tasty eggs, I wondered what kind of day his Darkness was having?
Meanwhile, in the Southeast…
Lord Voldermort, the most feared Dark Lord since Grindelwald, was having a very bad day.
And it wasn't from listening to Peter Pettigrew's reedy voice either.
[fin/ende]
A/N: (1) I really don't remember where this term came from, other than it was in HP fan fiction; my apologies to the author who originally coined it.
Next: Showdown, Part One