"Childhood days so sweet and tender,
Little things that we remember.
But too soon the good times pale,
As we slip beyond the veil."
-- "Memories" Ethel Kline
Chapter 13: Meetings at Gringotts
Harry was lost in the void. Magic his only guide. Inhale, exhale. Carefully controlled movements, a deadly dance.
He stood in his room, in Grimmauld Place, all furniture pushed against the walls to make space. The sky outside was still a dark reddish violet, the sun beginning to appear over the horizon.
His whole body seemed to glow, as his magic came forth and with a smooth touch guided his body. Harry had done this every morning and evening since his departure from school, it was now an integral part of his daily routine.
Sharp turn left, followed by a quick back-flip. Crushing down, he twirled right and made some sort of defensive movement. Eyes unfocused, seemingly taking in every detail that surrounded his body.
The whole exercise was part of an advanced fighting technique he had found in some old books, stolen from the Hogwarts library. It consisted, for the most part, in forcing your body and your magic to work as one, as seamlessly as possible. This in turn broadened your perceptions of your surroundings, sharpened reflexes in addition to, after a certain amount of training, honing your body so that it instantly answered every command.
With a last forward roll, out of which Harry came out perfectly balanced and prepared to launch an attack, he relaxed and came out of the light meditative state he had been in. He sighed deeply and sat down on the floor, ready to stretch. He had learned early on (and the hard way) that it wasn't a good idea to train intensively and not stretch afterwards.
As Harry thought back on this latest session, he had to admit that he was improving. His movements weren't as stilted or as stiff as they had been when he had begun his training, back in Privet Drive. He moved smoothly, and he had to admit his reflexes, already sharp after years of Quidditch, were becoming deadly.
But he had hoped to accomplish so much more during this summer! He still had a stack of books waiting for his attention, not to mention duelling techniques he had to try out. It seemed like so much work… Half a century of experience he had to make up for… Harry had to admit, the task was daunting, and he had more than once wished he could simply give up.
Sighing deeply, and pushing any depressive thoughts out of his mind, Harry stood up, feeling the slight rush that always seemed to take hold of him after a brutal training period. Grabbing some clean clothes, he went to the showers and prepared to face another day in the life of Harry Potter.
…
On his way downstairs, now dressed in a crisp grey shirt and black slacks, Harry crossed paths with Ginny, who was obviously just getting out of bed. Her hair was completely tousled and her eyes still half closed. She exuded languor, and Harry, shivering slightly at the sight, thought he had never seen anything as captivating in his life.
Ginny, noticing the spring in his step and, in her opinion, completely outrageous amount of energy he seemed to be carrying around at that time of the morning, only grumbled a monosyllabic response to his cheerful good morning.
Laughing at her disgruntled appearance, Harry gently took her hand and steered her towards the kitchen, saying flippantly, "Come, Gin, there's coffee in the kitchen, I'm sure afterwards your synapses will kick off properly."
"Humph, how do you do it, Potter? Being this awake at eight in the morning should be forbidden," she mumbled, following Harry's lead without question.
Laughing happily - he really was in a good mood this morning, he had finally reached a decision concerning Gringotts and his family estate the night before, and it felt as if an enormous burden had been taken from his shoulders - he replied, "Been up since half past five, Ginny, my morning is already way underway."
This only drew an incredulous stare from Ginny, as they continued their way into the kitchen.
…
It was amazing, thought Harry, just how quickly a perfectly good day could be spoilt. He hadn't taken three steps inside the kitchen and his perfect mood was already ebbing away into nothingness.
Sighing deeply, and biting back an angry retort that he knew would not in any way serve his purpose, he said, with forced calmness, "This subject is not open for discussion! I'm going to Gringotts today, I've already made arrangements with my attorney and one of the High Goblins. I do not intend to miss this meeting."
Silence greeted this statement, and finally, Bill, who seemed content to simply sit quietly in the background, smiling at the loud arguing going on – even if he didn't admit it out loud, especially in front of the Order, he personally thought it was high time Harry started living his own life – asked confusedly, "You have a meeting with one of the High Goblins? Are you sure Harry, they never, and I mean never, meet customers personally, they have other matters to take care of…"
"Yes, I have a meeting with a High Goblin!" snapped Harry. "The head of the Council, if I'm not mistaken. His name is Ragnok."
Bill drew a sharp intake of breath at this. "How? How did you get a meeting with Ragnok? I had to work at Gringotts years before I even got to meet his secretary! Are you sure it's him, Harry? Because if it is, well, you were given an enormous privilege! This could change our dealings with the Goblins completely! We could actually make an ally out of them!"
The curse breaker's eyes were now shining excitedly, and Harry could almost see the wheels turning in his mind, plans and possible approaches coming together. Harry realized that it might be a good idea to talk to Bill for a bit before going to this meeting. Things should run much more smoothly if he had a bit of background information and knew some Goblin etiquette.
Smiling, Harry said, "Yes, I was quite surprised myself when I saw the seal of the letter from the bank. I mean, they did screw up royally when taking care of my estate, but still, I never thought this would get me a meeting with the big boss."
Bill laughed at this. "Oh, so not only did you get a meeting, but you'll have the upper hand? He's the one who will be apologising? Wow, this is completely unprecedented! Harry, you do realize that, without ever stepping out of Headquarters, you did more than my entire life's work? I should feel incredibly jealous!"
"Well Bill, what can I say, I'm good!" said Harry cockily, before giving up the pretence and laughing out loud.
The other Order members present shot both of them supremely disapproving glares, none more so than Mrs Weasley that seemed to consider the whole business as some sort of despicable undermining of authority, a complete and utter lack of respect for their elders and betters.
When Harry saw this, the last bits of cheerfulness he had felt left him. And not for the first time he wondered why everything in his life had to be so complicated. Breathing in, and forcing himself to calm down – the last thing he needed right now was for his magic to spiral out of control – he addressed the room at large, "Look, I told Dumbledore a week ago that I needed to go to Gringotts. I told him that I was going anyway, but that if he was worried about security he could arrange for an escort or something, I didn't care too much. But I leave for Hogwarts tomorrow, and he didn't do anything, so I'll consider his silence as authorisation to go by myself."
"Potter, that's twisted logic and you know it," replied Kingsley Shacklebolt, very impressive in his formal Auror gear. He was already late for work, Harry knew, but he wanted to see where this whole business would lead, and if he'd have to pull some strings in the department.
"Maybe, Kingsley, but it's mine." Ginny almost choked on her coffee when she heard this, and had to struggle not to laugh. Seeing her mother, she had a feeling it wasn't a good idea to fall about in hysterics over something Harry said right now.
Nobody argued this statement, but Remus tried a different approach, "Harry, do you think it's sensible to go out right now? You know this will only make matters more difficult with Professor Dumbledore… You do want to settle things with him before going back to Hogwarts, don't you?"
"That depends greatly on the headmaster, Remus, you know I won't bow to his every whim anymore. I want to have a modicum of control over my own life." Harry said seriously, and the swirling silver power was visible once more in his eyes. "I think I deserve it after everything that's happened."
No one had anything to say to that, but Harry felt that most of the Order didn't agree with what he was about to do. Feeling slightly guilty, but forcing himself not to care, Harry continued, "Remus, I don't really care about any of that. I just want to go to Diagon Alley and to my meeting with Gringotts. This is too important for me, I'm sorry, but I won't change my mind. I really don't care if you send a whole battalion of Aurors with me, or none at all, but once and for all, I'm going. And Dumbledore will just have to live with it."
Unnoticed, Hermione, sitting at the other end of the table, shuddered. Harry's words reminded her uncomfortably of the previous night. Ron too, apparently, would just have to live with it. She was beginning to understand what Harry was doing, now. He was past the stage of caring about what others thought of his actions. He had plans and he was going to put them in motion, whether those around him agreed or not.
Remus looked miserable, faced with the angry green eyes, swirling with too much power. He knew that look, that stubborn determination that made everything possible. He had seen that look on James face enough times to know that once there, it would not go away. He had yet to meet someone that could change a Potter's mind once he decided something. Not even Lily, if he remembered correctly… And James never refused her anything…
If Harry was this decided to see his vault and meet Ragnok, then, short of locking him up, he would go and there was nothing else to it.
Remus didn't quite know what to say to him, he had to try to keep him safe, even if it proved to be a futile attempt. He couldn't – and wouldn't – forbid him from leaving the house, Harry wasn't a prisoner, and he was old enough to make his own decisions. Plus, his powers were volatile enough as it was, the werewolf couldn't even phantom what his reaction would be, should he, or even Dumbledore do anything of the kind.
"Harry" his voice was soothing, he didn't want the boy to have any reason to blow over the top. "I know you don't want to be here, but we can't risk you being captured again! You know that, right?"
This, apparently, wasn't the right thing to say.
"And you think you know where I'll be safe, don't you, Remus?" Harry answered scathingly. Standing up he growled. "Let me remind all you respected folks that I was exactly where I was supposed to be, in theory perfectly safe and protected, when I was captured. Give me one reason why I should trust you people to tell me what's dangerous and what isn't?" He glared at the table at large and continued. He was grasping the back of his chair with enough force to turn his knuckles white. "The last time I trusted one of you I ended up in one of Voldemort's dungeons for two whole weeks and, let's not forget this small detail, had to escape on my own because apparently you couldn't get your act together and rescue your secret weapon!"
Ginny put one of her hands on top of Harry's, she needed him to calm down, and quickly. She had just seen her mother leave the room quietly and she knew Dumbledore would be here in a few minutes. Harry needed to be thinking straight if he was going to face the headmaster.
She forced him to sit down, and in the silence that followed Harry's little rant she grabbed his hand, and smiled comfortingly. When his breathing evened, she said, in a quiet voice meant for his ears alone, "Mum just left the room, I expect Dumbledore at any moment, are you up to it, or do you want to beat a hasty retreat?"
Harry didn't answer but his slow dangerous smile said it all. "Let them come!"
…
"There will be no meeting, Harry isn't leaving this house." Dumbledore said imperatively, the moment he stepped inside Grimmauld Place's kitchen.
Harry's hand clenched around Ginny's small one, the Professor's opening statement didn't bode well for how the conversation would continue. This thought was only confirmed for Harry when he saw the person following the Headmaster and who had just crossed the threshold.
"Oh, just brilliant, just bloody brilliant! Exactly what I needed today, a dose of Snivellus Snape," groaned Harry, low enough so that only Ginny, sited right next to him, could hear.
She tried to control the giggle, she really did, but couldn't. The whole situation was too absurd. Dumbledore, greatest wizard of the age, standing upright and all righteous in a kitchen, looking ready to wage war. Harry, the hope of the light, the Boy-Who-Lived, studiously ignoring the afore mentioned greatest wizard of the age, and worrying about his greasy haired, turncoat Potions Master, while clinging as if for dear life to her hand, that is, little Ginny Weasley's hand. She couldn't help it. She giggled.
This in turn made Harry smile and look up. Seeing Mrs Weasley shooting daggers at her daughter, he smiled wider, and then, quite unexpectedly, he laughed outright, in front of the headmaster's nose.
Harry didn't know what had come over him. But the moment Ginny started laughing, he had felt compelled to do the same. Her good humour was contagious, he didn't think he knew anyone that could quite like her find things to laugh about in the most illogical situations.
Sobering up quickly however, he took a look at the clock in the wall and, standing up, said, a trace of laughter still in his voice, "I don't think there's anything else left to discuss here. It is obvious that none of us will change our opinion, and I have things to prepare." Turning towards Ginny's older brother, he said, in a completely different voice, that was suddenly all business. "Bill, do you have a moment?"
"Sure Harry, more than one."
But Dumbledore, that didn't look at all as the cheerful headmaster they knew so well, interrupted him.
"I'm afraid, Harry, that I can't allow you to leave this house. I'm sorry, but this is for your own good."
Harry froze in mid stride. He was so incredibly sick of people telling him what was or wasn't for his own good! The headmaster had lost that right the moment he forced Harry back to Privet Drive with no kind of moral support right after dumping the prophecy in his lap on top of Sirius' death.
"And how would you know what is and isn't for my own good, Professor?"
Harry was almost snarling, Ginny thought, and she wanted to laugh again. It was probably nerves that were making her slightly too chirpy. She was after all watching a confrontation between the two most powerful wizards she knew… It was enough to make anyone nervous. The rest of the Order didn't seem to be faring much better, even if their reactions weren't the same as hers.
"Harry," said Dumbledore in a placating voice, but losing none of his majesty, "your magic is completely out of control, you must calm yourself immediately."
There she thought he was exaggerating quite a bit. It was true that the room had that stifling feeling again, doubled in fact by Dumbledore's own power. But Harry wasn't about to release his magic, she knew what that felt like. Harry wasn't even glowing – so far…
"I'm perfectly in control of my powers, Headmaster, is that the only reason you won't let me leave the house? Because if that's it, you don't have to worry, I'm already getting the hang of this thing." His tone was light but his eyes were burning in cold fury. "You can ask around, since that Death Eater that was guarding me, I haven't blown anything up, Professor. That should count for something."
"I know Harry, and I must admit I'm surprised at that, but you aren't even near your usual self, and I don't want you to leave the house."
"Too bad, because I am. This meeting is too important to miss," said Harry with finality.
"What's important is to keep you alive. You know as well as I do that your survival is vital to the cause," said Dumbledore, with just a hint of exasperation in his voice.
"The cause, as you say, is better served by my going. You can ask Bill for details, since apparently you didn't care enough to ask me." Ginny noticed a twinge of hurt in his voice. Dumbledore was dealing with this situation in completely the wrong way, she thought.
"My only concern is with your safety, Harry, and that of the rest of the wizarding population. I won't risk you leaving a secure location while you haven't mastered you powers." It was obvious that Dumbledore wasn't used to having his orders contradicted. But Ginny had a feeling he was in for a nasty surprise: Harry wasn't the same boy they had all known. He wouldn't bend under pressure any longer.
Harry was silent for a long moment. He was reflecting about just how much he knew Dumbledore was keeping from him. He had to decide just how much of his hand he would reveal to the Headmaster. Making up his mind - after all, his training was something he would eventually have to ask for help with, and talking would possibly let him out of the house without a civil war, he said, "Actually, Professor, I'm already about halfway bonded with my magic."
He knew that, to most of the Order and to his friends - with the possible exception of Ginny who was training with him almost everyday - that statement wouldn't mean anything. However the Headmaster knew what a bonding ritual was. He would immediately understand that Harry had already discovered what had happened in that cell, that he knew Dumbledore was keeping secrets, and taking an enormous risk, letting him alone with no training and with his magical reserves unsealed.
For the first time in as long as he could remember, Harry saw true shock register in the headmaster's face. It was in a halting voice, which confused their audience that he asked, "You're – you're already bonded?"
Harry simply nodded. The headmaster looked so perturbed that he actually pulled a chair and sat down shaking his head in denial
"You know, Professor, it shouldn't be so very shocking to you." Harry said, with a hint of a smile, after some time had passed and no one had spoken: the Professor still trying to grip the new information, and the rest of the order too afraid to talk. "It was impossible not to notice that something was not right with my powers, I made some research, discovered what happened and took the necessary precautions. If I'd had a say in the matter, I would have thought it very reckless to leave me in the state I came back."
"But, my boy, we weren't even sure of what had happened…"
Harry laughed derisively and replied, "Then you are not only fools but also stupid. I told you what happened and Madam Pomfrey surely noticed that my magical levels had gone completely awry. For someone with you experience it should have been like putting two and two together, Professor. Simple maths."
"You must admit, Harry, that it was completely unprecedented…" The small voice spoke quietly to Harry's ear, but carried through to most of the room. Harry snorted derisively again.
"Not quite, Gin. It was actually a common practice with some ancient wizards."
"Common… I think you're pushing it there, Harry. Three known wizards in recorded history is hardly common," said Ginny smiling at him.
"I'm making a point here, Ginny, do you mind?" He was smiling however, and that took the sting out of his words.
"So, I gather that Miss Weasley knows?" asked Professor Dumbledore.
"Yes, I know. I'm the one who helped Harry research what was happening to him. And I must say, Professor, that if the books we found were accurate, you were taking a gigantic risk, leaving Harry alone, with no training, no information, no advice. He could have burnt this house to the ground, if for some unfortunate…" But her mother harshly interrupted her tirade, "Ginevra Weasley, be quiet! Show some respect."
Ginny blushed, embarrassed, but didn't seem at all repentant. Harry, however, wasn't quiet, "No, you should listen. Ginny is right. You were taking an impossible risk, and knowing myself, if I hadn't discovered what was going on, I'm not sure there would be much left of Headquarters. Look, Professor, I don't know what you were thinking, but the fact is, I'm taking care of things. If there is something that I've learned from Hermione first, and by experience later, is that books are extremely reliable teachers, much more reliable in fact, then people." The last was said with an accusatory look shot at Professor Snape that didn't go unnoticed.
"And may I ask what ritual you performed?" The headmaster was all business again, apparently recovered from his surprise.
"It isn't any of the traditional bonding ritual, if that's what you're asking. I didn't like the side effects of those, especially when it said that it only allowed limited control over the subject's magic. I'm doing concentrated exercises called custodio imperium,you must have heard of them…"
The headmaster had a faraway look in his eyes as Harry said the words.
"Yes… Meditative and concentrated work, very difficult to achieve properly. Has it been working, Harry? I would never have thought this technique was the right one for you."
"Yes, well, I simply had to adapt my training. I had been doing the curator tractus - the protector's steps – since I came back from school. It wasn't very difficult to adapt them to the meditative exercises, when I had the proper information." Harry was getting supremely impatient with this whole discussion, but knew that this conversation might help his relationship with the headmaster. However, he had a meeting to go to, and he had it on good information that Goblins didn't like to be kept waiting.
"Incredible work, Harry. Can you show me how far you've come in this short time? We will continue to work at school, of course, but I would like to know how far ahead you are." Harry didn't quite know how to interpret the look in the Headmaster's eyes. It seemed like a cross between an incredible amount pride, a certain amount of precaution and something else… But the fact remained that he had to leave, and that this discussion and demonstration would have to wait.
"Yes, Professor, I can show you. But not today, and certainly not right now. As I've said about a thousand times already, I have a meeting to attend, Ragnok expects me there in half an hour, and I won't keep him waiting."
Dumbledore's head snapped up and he whispered, a slightly frightened light appearing in his eyes.
"Ragnok?"
"Yes," snapped Harry. "Ragnok. Don't worry, Professor, he won't tell me anything I don't know yet. The secrets are coming out, and there's nothing you can do to stop them. Goodbye, I should be back in a few hours."
Harry straightened up, and grabbed a pinch of floo powder from the kitchen counter. Moving quickly towards the fireplace unchecked, as no one dared to try to stop him now, not after the public confrontation they had just witnessed, he threw it in and said, in a loud and clear voice: "Gringotts!" and was gone.
…
Stepping neatly out of the fireplace in the hall of the wizarding bank, Harry gave himself a satisfied internal smile: he was finally starting to get the hang on this flooing business.
Gringotts hadn't changed a bit since the last time he was there. He supposed the bank was one of those things that stood still and unaffected while history flowed around them. It was still all white marble and shinning bronze, everything in impeccable condition.
For once, Harry didn't feel dwarfed by the obvious wealth and power contained inside those walls. No… This was just a building: what interested him, what still caused a slight shill to run through his whole being was thinking about the still pending question of the goblins allegiance. Goblins were powerful. Not only were they powerfully magical creatures, but they also had an important role in keeping wizarding society together as a whole. If they chose, they could generate mayhem in a matter of hours. This power completely out of his control scared Harry more than a bit.
Trailing his eyes around the room, he looked for someone who might fit his preconceived idea of what a lawyer might look like. John Hellington was supposed to meet him here before the meeting.
Soon, he noticed a man, probably in his early fifties, crossing the room towards him. That would be him then, Harry thought, smiling internally. Not quite the old bookworm he had pictured in his mind.
The man was tall and seemed to emit energy and life. He had dark hair, speckled with grey, which gave him an uncanny sort of respectability. His sharp grey eyes were completely aware of his surroundings and coupled with the distinct cut of his features, made him look vaguely dangerous. The image that crossed Harry's mind was that of a sleeping tiger. As harmless as a kitten, so long as no one decided to poke him awake.
Harry's smile at seeing the man was particularly pleased. He was already satisfied with this man: he was obviously competent, and seemed like the kind of person Harry would be able to rely on. He had a feeling he would be a precious ally in the coming months.
"Good morning, Mister Potter, I am John Hellington. I was extremely content to receive your owl, even after all those years. The control over your family's affairs was taken out of my hands rather abruptly after your parents passed away, and I fear we might have quite a few lose ends to mend that could become quite problematic."
They had shaken hands briefly, and then jumped straight to business. Harry was glad; he wasn't one to stand small talk well.
"I hope the task isn't too daunting, Mister Hellington," said Harry with a half-smile.
"Not at all, Mister Potter, not at all." Harry noticed that a slightly vicious glint had appeared on the man's eyes. Yes… Quite dangerous, given the right motivations. "As I explained to you on my letter, there are a number of unresolved issues tied to your estate, the first being the fact that its control was passed on to a completely unrelated person. This is what we will discuss today with Ragnok. I advise you to try not to be too aggressive today. We will have a number of future dealings with the Goblins: it's better to be on good terms with them. They have the means to make your life miserable - and mine by association. It's better to have them as allies."
"Don't worry, Mister Hellington, I have no intention of being anything less than perfectly civil today." Harry grinned at the man, and they understood that they had the exact same motivations. "As long as my estate is back under my control, and the Goblins are willing to work with us, then I'm satisfied. I want, however, to discover why this whole mess happened. I want to know if it was only a mistake, a document overlooked, or a real treachery. I also want to discover why I was never informed of the existence of this estate until this summer."
At this, Hellington made a startled sound, totally at odds with his contained behaviour.
"You - you didn't know of your family estate? How have you been living this far?"
"Trust fund." Harry answered shortly.
"And no one bothered to tell you? Not Sirius? Not even Remus? What are those people playing at?"
Harry was impressed. The man seemed really angry at his being kept in the dark. Things were starting to look good.
"I take it you knew my father then? And his friends as well? You obviously know about Sirius being innocent…" His voice caught as he said this.
"Yes, I was a good friend of your grandfather's and helped your father out on more than one occasion. I've been keeping an eye on the Potter estate since I graduated from law school, many, many, years ago." He paused, as if considering if he should say something. "I'm very sorry for your loss, Harry."
Harry nodded his thanks, not feeling up to answering. The attorney led him towards an empty counter, and asked the Goblin there to show them to their meeting place.
The small creature checked the letter they presented for a long time, probably making sure it wasn't a forgery, thought Harry, before standing and saying, "Elder Ragnok will be pleased by your visit, Mister Potter, please follow me."
Their guide opened a door in the far end of the Hall, leading them through a maze of long, dimly lit corridors and locked doors. The whole thing made Harry feel claustrophobic, and he felt his palms moisten and his heartbeat fasten considerably. Swallowing his discomfort, and taking a deep steadying breath, he continued to walk.
They were led to a comfortable looking waiting room, before a richly carved wooden door. Harry, however, immediately noticed that the room had no windows, and he started to feel stifled. He felt as if the walls were closing in on him, and wondered what was happening to him. He had never had problems with closed spaces before! He'd grown up in a locked cupboard, for Merlin's sake!
Hellington immediately saw that something wasn't right, and as soon as the clerk left to warn Ragnok of their presence, he turned towards Harry and, forcing him to sit down he asked concernedly, "Are you up to this, Harry? I can ask Ragnok to postpone, if you want."
Harry shook his head, and closed his eyes. He was feeling frantic, but realized that he needed to get a grip on himself. This was starting to get ridiculous.
Hellington had an idea of what was happening to the boy. He had been fine while they were in the spacious Hall, after all. Considering the rumours that had circulated during the last months, he wasn't surprised. It didn't solve his problem however: Harry had to be calm and collected during this meeting, it wouldn't do for him to have a panic attack on the middle of a conversation.
Meanwhile, Harry was trying to remember his training. Controlling his breathing, he slowly forced his mind to relax, and found his centre, feeling his magic fill his body, soothing the unreasonable fear.
"Harry?" The attorney asked again, the room was starting to feel oppressive with excess magic, and he was starting to seriously worry. Harry didn't answer straight away. He had just managed to calm his body, and force his mind to stop playing tricks on him, when he opened his eyes again.
"I'm fine, now, Mister Hellington, don't worry." He let go of his magic, and took another deep breath. He would be fine, he told himself.
The older man sighed in relief, and looked at the now perfectly composed young man beside him. He really was a carbon copy of James at that age; it wasn't a fable. It was almost scary to see the same confidence, the same stubborn determination. He had a feeling that his life was about to get a good bit more interesting, now that he would get his hands on the Potter estate once more.
…
A few minutes later, the clerk came back and said, making an inviting gesture towards the door, "Elder Ragnok is ready for you, sirs. You may go in."
Harry gave himself a short moment to collect his thoughts, before getting up and entering the office.
They were ushered into a spacious meeting room, with a centre table that could hold four, maybe five people comfortably. From a side door entered a respectable looking Goblin, much taller than any Harry had met to day. His eyes, of a dark brown speckled with gold held a barely hidden intelligence, and Harry wondered how wizards could have ever catalogued those people as simple creatures.
Ragnok greeted them with a slight bow, which they answered in tandem, and then motioned towards the table, where they all took sits.
"Greetings, young Potter, Mister Hellington. It is a pleasure to meet you. I was afraid that, due to recent events, you would be unable to attend today's appointment." He paused, for a second, as if giving Harry the opportunity to speak, and then continued, in his grave, melodious voice - completely different from that of the common Goblins.
"I have asked you to come here today so that we can at least begin to settle the matters of both the Potter and the Black estate. I was grieved to discover, at your emancipation, that there were a number of irregularities on both accounts. Gringotts has always prided itself on its reliability. I am decided to discover who was responsible for those blatant disregards for our customers' wishes as well as for our institution's rules and regulations. Meanwhile, I hope that, together, we might correct some of those wrongs."
Harry smiled pleasantly and said, "I'm glad to notice that we have the same goals, Mister Ragnok."
"Very well, let us move forward then. Your late godfather, Sirius Black, sealed a will a few weeks before his untimely demise. His wishes were quite clear, and he took steps to ensure that they would be followed. It is my regret to inform you that those wishes weren't followed."
Harry's head snapped up, he had been perusing the first document of the pile in front of him, a copy of Sirius' will, and fighting the urge to break down and cry.
"What do you mean, they weren't followed?" Harry's eyes flashed. "I was under the impression that only my family estate presented any irregularities."
Ragnok's voice had taken a sorrowful tone now.
"I was under this impression too, until I ordered that the documents for this meeting be assembled. It would seem that, when dealing with Mister Black's estate, his perfectly legal and approved will was dismissed, and all his assets transferred to another account."
Here, Harry's attorney felt he had to intervene, "I trust that Gringotts is already taking steps to correct this mistake?"
"Of course, Mister Hellington. As soon as I became aware of the problem I took steps to ensure that it was being corrected." He paused, looking apologetic, before clearing his throat and continuing.
"Mister Black, other than a few donations and a trust fund to be set that will cater for the education of a small number of Hogwarts students providing them with a scholarship of sorts, has left his whole fortune and estate to you, Mister Potter."
Harry gulped, and felt his hands starting to shake. He didn't want the money, but he knew, from what was written in the document before him, that the next in line of succession was Narcissa Black Malfoy, and the last thing he wanted was for the Malfoys to have even more money, and to get a hand on everything that had once been Sirius.
"If you are willing to accept this will, then all you have to do is sign the next two documents on your pile. I assure you that I will personally deal with any further problems that might arise, and I assure you that the culprits of the deception will be punished. You have my word." Ragnok's voice had taken a deadly voice near the end. Goblins had always prized their trustworthiness; it was a great offence to have taken that from them.
Harry scrawled his name at the bottom of both documents after a silent nod from his attorney. He handed the goblin the documents, with a quiet word of thanks.
"Now, Mister Potter, Mister Hellington, would you please take notice of the last couple paragraphs of Sirius Black's will."
Harry, who had been satisfied with skimming the document before, read the end more carefully, All my other earthly goods, titles and assets are to be bequest to my godson, Harry James Potter, as my primary heir. Furthermore, in the instance of my death, it is my wish that no new guardian be appointed to my charge, but that he be emancipated in all instances of the law, whether it be under Goblin, Wizarding or Muggle jurisdiction. Those are my last wishes, and all means are to be used to ensure that they are put in practice.
"As I explained to you in my first letter, Mister Potter, for all intents and purposes falling under Goblin jurisdiction you are legally an adult. The Wizengamot, however, has not accepted Mister Black's emancipation, so you are still legally a minor in the wizarding world. This causes us a number of problems when dealing with the estate seeing as - "
"Why wasn't I informed of this decision?" Interrupted Harry harshly.
Ragnok looked surprised for a moment, and then asked cautiously, "You weren't informed of the Wizengamot's ruling?"
"No, I was not. Excuse my abruptness; this took me by surprise, Mister Ragnok. How does this affect my control over my estate? Is there any way to go against the ruling?"
"I believe that Mister Hellington is better equipped to deal with this problem than myself." The elder said, shooting John a questioning look.
"Indeed. I'll take care of the bureaucracy as soon as we leave, Harry, and file for an appeal. I have a feeling this was Dumbledore's doing: rumour has it that the two of you are slightly at odds."
"You could say that," growled Harry.
"What are the practical implications of this, Mister Ragnok?" asked Hellington trying to placate the underlying tension in the room.
"For everything that concerns Gringotts, there are no consequences. Your family vault will open for you, and you can dispose of the things that are stored in any or all of your vaults as you please. For assets and titles, I'm afraid, you could encounter some difficulty, since they are all tied to wizarding laws and regulations, since the vast majority of them are in wizarding territory."
"Brilliant." Harry said, glowering at the room in general.
"Don't worry, Harry, we'll work something out. I'm sure I can unearth some long forgotten wizard law that will solve this issue. I'm well known for this."
"Okay, thanks. So, if I wanted to visit my family vault, I would still be able to do so?"
"Of course, Mister Potter. If you want to, I can have a clerk accompany you there after we are finished with this meeting."
"I would appreciate that, thank you." Harry said, grateful that at least this was working out properly.
"Very well. Would you sign those documents, please? They allow you to take possession of your family estate, even if you'll have to wait till you become a legal adult before you can make any changes, sell any property, and so on and so forth."
After signing the new pile of documents and handing them to the Elder Goblin, Harry looked at the other man questioningly. Was this all it would take to solve the legal mumbo-jumbo?
"That finalises our legal matters. Copies of all the documents, as well of all titles and other assets have been made for you and your attorney Mister Potter, and will be available to you as you depart. I believe, however, that we have a number of other matters to discuss."
"Yes. I want to understand what happened to my family's estate after my parent's death. I trust you have discovered why control over it was passed on to Dumbledore?" Harry asked, trying not to sound accusing, or too demanding.
The respectable Goblin made a sound that seemed to be a sigh of disappointment.
"I'm afraid that there was little light shed over this matter since we last spoke. After your parents demise, you were too young to take control over what was legally yours. The next logical choice would be to lock your vaults and give a passing power over the estate to your guardian. Unfortunately your guardian was also unavailable, and your relatives were all Muggles, unable to guard a magical estate. For some reason that is still not clear to me at this time, control was given to Albus Dumbledore: a powerful and influential wizard, certainly, but who wasn't mentioned either in your parents' or godparent wills. It has been in his hands for the last fifteen years."
Hellington cut in at this time, "At the time I was the steward for the Potter estate. I didn't even have the chance to prepare the estate for its long dormant state. I hope that any problems that should arise from this will be swiftly resolved, with as little complication for my client as possible. If things work out properly, we will be willing to overlook the blatant disregard to my client's right and his family's wishes."
"You have my assurance that I will make every effort to facilitate the transition." Here the Goblin seemed to hesitate for a moment, before saying, addressing solely Harry for the first time in the meeting. "I hope, Mister Potter, that what was exposed those last few weeks will not compromise any further dealings that we might have in the future."
The Goblin's tone had changed completely. It had lost its businesslike frigidness, and was now urgent, pleading almost. Harry knew, without being told, that the matter they were discussing had no longer anything to do with Galleons and vaults, and everything to do with a war being waged by the whole of the magical world. He waited for Ragnok to continue talking.
"Strange and deeply disturbing rumours have reached our ears, Mister Potter. Prophecy is a delicate art, shifty and devious. But us Goblins, we have learned by experience that it should never be overlooked."
"Believe me, Mister Ragnok, it is not being overlooked."
The Goblin's eyes opened wide, and he made a surprised sound in the back of his throat.
"It is true then?"
"I'm afraid so." Harry said, nodding.
The Goblin slowly closed his eyes, and let out a breath.
"Then darkness is once more upon us."
"Yes," was all that Harry said.
"There are no war efforts. Your people aren't prepared. Are they going to stand idly by, lambs to be slaughtered?" Ragnok asked, a disturbing light in his eyes.
"Let me worry about my people, Ragnok. I'm more interested in what yours are going to do." Harry's attitude had changed the minute the subject had. He now sat straight in his chair, and his eyes were glowing, as he had loosened his control on his magic. He wasn't a schoolboy any longer, simply the young inexperienced heir to an ancient line. He was a leader, preparing to wage war. "Should I worry about new enemies?"
The Elder didn't answer for a long time. He sat in his chair, assessing, weighting his chances at throwing his lot in with this boy.
"Would we have any guarantees, Mister Potter?"
"None that I can give you," was the honest reply.
"We are not mercenaries. If we were to join you, we would be equals. I want your word that we will no longer be considered second class citizens."
Both were staring at each other with such intensity, that they had become completely unaware of their surroundings. John simply sat, feeling that he was the only audience to an alliance that could quite possibly change history.
"I am not prejudiced. I want nothing more than equal rights for all magical beings. Of this I can assure you, if we are successful, one of my goals will be to use whatever influence I might have in this world to back up your cause."
"Others have offered me the same, Mister Potter. Why should I trust you?"
"Why shouldn't you? From my perspective, I'm your best shot. You can't even give Voldemort the benefit of the doubt, we all know he's a chauvinistic bastard." said Harry, smirking slightly.
"Your ministry is corrupt. Their forces cannot be trusted. They are the ones that have banished us from your society as outcasts." Ragnok continued, eyes glowing.
"I'm perfectly aware of that fact. If you so chose, you would be allying with me, not the ministry. This is my war to fight, not theirs."
They were silent for a long time. Finally, Ragnok broke the silence.
"This is your war… Then why have you come here today?"
"Because I can't fight it alone, Mister Ragnok. Voldemort has strong allies, dark creatures, spies infiltrated in every possible sphere of wizarding society. He might even have turned a few goblins, from what we have discussed here today. I don't believe you want to become another of his lapdogs, Mister Ragnok. You want freedom for yourself and for your people. We have similar goals, you see? I too want freedom. I want peace once and for all. As a great poet once said: He who wants peace, let him prepare for war." Harry had stood as he talked, and his whole countenance was alight with passion.
Whatever Ragnok had been searching in Harry, he must have found, because when silence fell once again in the room, he slowly nodded, and said, quietly, simply, "I believe you will one day make a great leader for our people, Mister Potter. You are correct; we do have similar goals. You may consider the Goblins as your allies. And you may consider me, Mister Potter, as a friend."
A/N: Custodium Imperium means to guard and control in common latin. I hope you enjoyed the chapter as much as I did. Truth be told, the last part of Harry's conversation with Ragnok is one of my favourite parts so far. Please tell me what you think!