Chapter Two: The Will of Lord Calvin
The nervous wizard stood in line, waiting to be served by the goblin tellers lining the interior counter of the bank. When it was his turn, he stepped forward and showed not his vault key, but his badge. "I would like to speak with the Calvin family account manager, please," he requested. It was not his habit to be so polite to goblins, but this was so irregular and outside of established procedure that the wizard wanted to be as polite and non-offensive as possible.
The teller examined him for several long moments, prompting a discrete swallow from the wizard. "Wait here," the teller ordered, flipping the sign on his desk to 'Closed'. The goblin hopped down from his chair and vanished through a door behind the counter. The wizard waited, sweating, but there was no turning back now. Eventually, after some minutes, the teller reappeared and walked around the desk to the wizard. "Follow," the teller ordered, already proceeding to the maze of corridors on the far side of the atrium. The wizard followed, losing count of the turns and twists within the first few minutes of walking. At last, they came to an office door and the teller knocked.
"Enter," the occupant called.
The teller opened the door and the two, man and goblin, entered. The teller bowed to the goblin behind the desk, speaking rapidly in Gobbledegook (1). The goblin behind the desk listened intently, his eyes shifting briefly to the waiting wizard as his subordinate spoke. When the teller was finished, the goblin behind the desk dismissed him with a long-fingered hand.
"I am Silnok, account manager to the Ancient and Noble House of Calvin. What is your business with the House of Calvin, Auror Wilkins?"
Wilkins was not surprised that the goblin knew who he was and straightened his shoulders at the goblin's question. "May I assume you know of my professional connections with Sergeant Parker, guardian of the Calvin children?"
Silnok's eyes narrowed, but he inclined his head. "You may," he intoned.
"England has overturned the will of the late Lord Calvin," Wilkins blurted. "Harry Potter has, with England's blessing, taken guardianship of the Calvins."
The goblin's eyes flashed with fury. "What madness is this?" he demanded. "To overturn the will of a Lord…it is unheard of, sir."
"I know," Wilkins agreed miserably. "But they've done it, nonetheless, Account Manager Silnok. Potter intends to take the children back to England tomorrow, he's all but promised to never let them return so long as their uncle and his team know about our world."
The angry goblin hissed in outrage. "To take guardianship from blood-kin…it is a dangerous precedent, Auror Wilkins. England may well live to regret their actions." He leaned back in his chair, abruptly calm and cunning. "But what, Auror Wilkins, is your stake in the matter?" he questioned, eyeing the Auror. "By all accounts, you are not fond of either the children or their blood-kin."
Wilkins swallowed hard at the question. It took him some moments to formulate a reply. "Ghosts," he finally said, voice quiet.
"Ghosts?" the goblin queried.
"A man they helped, he said all he could see anymore were the ghosts, his failures," Wilkins explained awkwardly. "I can't…" he gulped again, "I can't let these kids turn into ghosts for Parker; he deserves better than that."
Silence hung in the air, the goblin considering the Auror's words. "I see," he observed at last and Wilkins cringed. "You have learnt that there is far more to life than magic," the goblin mused. "Far, far more." Silnok leaned forward, his black eyes turning intent. "You may leave this with me, Auror Wilkins. I shall tell no one of your coming here, you have my word. No one will ever know that it was you, Auror Wilkins, who set the wheels of justice in motion." He smiled, teeth baring as he did so. "Now go, Auror. I have much to do."
Wilkins gathered up his courage and bowed to the goblin before slipping out the door.
Silnok frowned as soon as the door closed behind the wizard. Truly, this should not have been such a surprise and he should not have had to find out about Potter's actions from a sympathetic Canadian Auror. The goblin moved quickly, gathering both Artorius Calvin's will and the painstaking genealogy research the late Lord had commissioned over a decade earlier. Once he had the documents, he called for an emergency meeting of the Canadian Gringotts management branch.
"The Muggle should never have been given custody," the British goblin sneered at the meeting. He was, like many, a firm believer in the separation of the worlds.
Silnok raised his voice to respond. "The Muggle, as you call him, is blood-kin to both the late Lord and his children. As such, he was, and is, a perfectly acceptable choice in the eyes of both British and Canadian law."
"What proof have you of that?" the presiding goblin inquired, his expression intent.
Silnok almost smiled at the question and rose, presenting the genealogy research to the scribe. "I have here the results of a genealogy study commissioned by Artorius Calvin following the deaths of his honorable parents, Percival and Alexandria Calvin."
Once the scribe had copied and passed the documents out to the council, Silnok cleared his throat and began to explain the history. "In 1824, a Squib was born to the Calvin family, the first such born to the family since its founding in the time of Camelot. This Squib, unlike many other Squibs, was not summarily tossed from our world. Instead, the House of Calvin supported the child during his education and supplied sufficient funds for young Squib to sojourn to what was then referred to as the New World.
"The Squib settled in Canada, marrying and producing several young, each of whom knew about their British relatives. In time, the various familial branches faded away, as did the knowledge of the magical world. A daughter of the Squib's firstborn line eventually married into the House of Parker, uniting that House with the House of Calvin. Gregory Parker is a direct descendent of that union, as they were his paternal grandparents."
The council absorbed the information, considering both the records and the will before them. The presiding goblin leaned forward in his seat. "And this Gregory Parker? What is your impression of him?"
Silnok inclined his head, respectful to the elder goblin. "He accepted his young kin into his life without hesitation, fully supporting their talents and giving them an environment where their Wild Magic has blossomed rather than being suppressed in learning," Silnok sneered, "lesser, weaker Latin magic."
Another goblin spoke up. "They are Wild Mages?"
"Yes," was the simple answer.
The British goblin scoffed. "That magic was lost generations ago," he declared.
Silnok leered right back. "The magic was lost because the House married as all British purebloods do, burying their magic beneath the magic of other families. These children are full Wild Mages, with familial animagus forms and a native understanding of Old Magic."
Gasps ran around the room; Old Magic, beyond a spell or two, hadn't been seen or used in centuries. The presiding goblin harrumphed, bringing attention back to himself. "Wild Mages, Old Magic, all of this is no doubt interesting and diverting. However," his stern gaze raked the council, "The issue before us is the matter of the legitimate will of the late Lord Calvin and Britain's overturning of that will. Shall we of Gringotts interfere with the wizards or not?"
As the elder goblin leaned back in his chair, the council of goblins began to cast their votes. Silnok watched, praying to Aslan that the council would agree with him.
[1] The native language of goblins