The Great Goblin Rebellion October 1991

What triggered a goblin rebellion in October 1991? Harry Potter's introduction to magical Britain goes differently, and Hagrid's trip to the secret vault…well, the cart gets tipped off the track completely.

FINALLY! We explore what happened to Quirrell-Riddle and also watch the goblins encounter more roadblocks from Wizards and the Ministry.

Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling, the creative lady who shared her wizard and his life with the world. She's kind enough to allow others to play on her beach for a while.

&& CHANGE SCENE &&

On 6 August 1991, Harry began training with Andrew in basic defence spells, ideas, and shields. The Cursebreaker asked, "Do you remember what I told you to do that night we saw the burglar escaping the bank?"

"You told me to squat and make a small target."

"Yes, and I still do that when I'm in a fight," Andrew said as he turned his left side away from Harry, his right side facing the boy with his wand pointed at the pupil for only a moment. "I turn to the side, making me a smaller target."

"And lets you do stuff with your left hand they don't see," Harry added. Andrew grinned and nodded. "Very good, Mr Potter!"

Harry practised turning left and keeping his left arm hidden. Andrew talked about learning to place his feet properly and encouraged Harry to accept the offer of some dance lessons from the goblins. He explained, "The first thing that Professor Flitwick will do at Hogwarts and demand you show him a five-minute dance routine."

"Why five minutes?"

Nodding, Andrew said, "He'll want you fit enough to last five minutes. My experience with wizards here in Britain is that they're lazy. Well…they don't have any common sense and they're lazy. If you can last three minutes in a duel with them, you'll win because they'll be exhausted."

Harry spent equal amounts of time working with his wand and with wandless magic. At the end of the training session, he stepped close to Andrew and asked to get a close look at his guardian's wand.

"Mr Potter, you never ask to examine another wizard or witch's wand," Andrew said sternly. "An Auror can take your wand to examine for recent spells, but they have to return it immediately or place it in an evidence bag where no one else can touch it."

"I remember, and I just want to look at the ends," Harry replied. Bemused Poppins allowed the boy to look closely at the wand. He was pleased when the Boy-Who-Lived announced, "Your wand is just a dowel…there's not a core in the wand."

With an expression of fake horror, Andrew confessed, "You found me out! You know one of my deepest, darkest secrets! Please don't tell the world!"

"Have you ever used a wand?"

"Only briefly when I was five years old," Andrew confessed. "My older brother came home from school and he let me hold it for a minute. My mother was displeased but my father understood the lesson immediately – a wand might allow you to focus your magic today but it will limit your magic tomorrow…after someone takes away your wand."

So why do you have a dowel… stick in your hand when you're casting spells?

Andrew sat on a bench and said, "I'll tell you if you promise to really think about what I say."

Harry nodded and the Cursebreaker continued, "First, every wizard and witch in Magical Britain must use a wand to cast the simplest spells. Like Dumbledore, a few can cast wandless charms to freshen their breath, make someone else drowsy, or like a fire under a potion cauldron."

"So here, everyone expects you to have a wand."

"They would completely ignore me if I didn't have a wand in my hand, which can be bad because they think I'm defenceless and just attack. Or it can be good, and they don't see me as a threat until my bombardment spell throws them into the stone wall behind them."

"Does it take more magic to do wandless magic?"

"I think so but I'm not certain because you're the first wizard in Magical Britain who has asked about it. "

"Should I…" Harry began to ask but then fell silent, debating internally.

Andrew nodded. "You have to think about it. Stuffy can find you a holly branch that looks just like the wand in your hand. And once you can cast a spell without a wand, the power is magnified when you have a wand."

Harry asked, "Isn't there a spell where you can summon another wizard's wand from their hand?"

"Yes, Expelliarmus."

"If I have a stick in my hand and cast wandless magic, will the spell take the wand or pull on my hand?"

"The dowel is pulled because your opponent expects the wooden stick to fly from your hand. Remember, magic is about intent."

"Stuffy says 'intentionals. Magic is intentionals'," replied Harry with a smile on his face.

"So, what's your idea?" asked the Cursebreaker.

"What if the dowel I use is a weapon – like an arrow – that will stab my opponent? If he reaches out his hand to grab the wand flying toward him and it explodes or cuts off his hand, he'll be disabled."

Andrew looked green for a moment and said, "That's a great idea but I'm surprised you thought it so soon. From my personal experience, I advise you not to use it until you're in a real fight. Don't use it in any training with Professor Flitwick, it will offend his duelling sensibilities."

Andrew escorted Harry to a meeting with Ironstream, where Andromeda and Ted Tonks were in attendance. The four humans were talking with the goblin when Sowsbreath joined them.

"There you are Mr Potter!" Sowsbreath said. "I've been planning to speak to you all day."

"Hello, Vault Manager Sowsbreath. Let's see…may your enemies run in fear when they hear your name."

Ironstream and Sowsbreath laughed when they heard the greeting but didn't bare their teeth in anger. The Potter vault manager withdrew a plain-looking bag from a pocket and presented it to the boy. "Mr Potter, this is a bottomless money bag that's connected to your school vault. There are several important features about the bag to remember – only you can reach inside and withdraw galleons, the money that wizards use. If you need British Pounds, just ask for them."

"That's brilliant!" Harry exclaimed.

"Another feature is the bag will provide a credit card – that plastic card that Poppins used to buy your clothing the other day. Just return the card to the bag after making a purchase."

"What about when he travels to the USA to visit my grandmother someday?"

Harry grinned at the idea of travelling to another country someday. Sowsbreath explained, "If you are in a different country, the bag will change to the local currency. The credit card works in every country in their currency without problems."

Ironstream frowned. He asked, "How is it that Heir Potter gets such a thing? Why doesn't he have such a thing as Heir Black?"

Andromeda Tonks said, "First, you have to agree that Harry Potter is actually Harry Potter-Black."

The door of Ironstream's office was thrown open a second time, but rather than another goblin, this time, the person charging inside was a witch in elegant but blood-streaked robes. She stepped into the office, followed by a boy who gazed into the distance as if he were in shock. The boy had white hair and was just a few centimetres taller than Harry. The witch ignored the humans for a moment and declared, "Goblin, you must help me get out of Britain! Now!"

Then she took a second to look at the humans, locked eyes with Andromeda, snarled and obviously fought with herself not to draw her wand and attack. Narcissa Malfoy hissed, "What is SHE doing here? She's not a member of the Black family!"

&& CHANGE SCENE && Malfoy

Her morning promised to be boring. There wasn't an excuse to stroll through Diagon Alley. New fashions would not be delivered again until after the children were at Hogwarts. Lucius would find something – or someone – to entertain him for the Autumn, and she would escape her husband to shop in Paris, Florence, Rome or Vienna, the centres of good pureblood society.

'I will miss Draco, but he is eleven and must begin building his magical core and knowledge,' she knew.

She moved silently through Malfoy Manor, a renamed country house of the Black family she'd brought into her marriage with Lucius. There were four family portraits from the Malfoys and a dozen from her family hanging on the walls of the manor. Approaching her husband's office, she heard voices and paused to listen carefully.

'Lucius said nothing about visitors this morning.' She listened carefully and then froze.

"My Lord…you're back…you've returned to…to lead us," Lucius stammered.

The voice that replied was shallow and filled with pain. "I am not fully back, Lucius. I need your help to restore my body, and it must be today."

"How can I help…my lord?"

"I have obtained the Philosopher's Stone – snatched it from the hands of the goblins, the ministry and Dumbledore. My life will be restored by the elixir, and we shall have unlimited amounts of gold to buy loyalty and power. But Mulciber needs two things from you to accomplish my resurrection with the stone,"

'Flamel's stone? How in Merlin's name did this person get Flamel's magical stone?' Narcissa wondered as she cast a spell to identify the persons in Lucius's study – her husband was there with their son, Draco, a Thomas Mulciber, and a confusing reading – Quintus Quirrell merged with some unknown Thomas Riddle.

"Anything, my lord…anything," Lucius responded.

The feeble voice said, "Excellent. First, we need the book I left in your care. My greatest treasure."

"I have it secure in this safe, my lord," Lucius replied, and Narcissa heard her husband pull on a painting to reveal a hidden safe, very muggle but secure. She imagined Lucius bringing out this 'book' and handing it to the voice.

"My diary! My magic and my soul," the feeble voice said.

'Does he sound stronger suddenly?' Narcissa wondered. She didn't dare move yet but, in her mind, she imagined each person's position in the room. Draco was behind his father, who stood behind his desk. The feeble voice stood directly in front of the desk, facing Lucius. The other Death Eater, Mulciber, stood slightly behind the voice but remained silent.

"There is a ritual that Mulciber must conduct this afternoon. This body was fatally wounded and bleeds out. Nothing can stop the bleeding, and Quirrell will die shortly. With this treasure of my magic and soul, I can possess your son's form to give me a new body. Then, I shall rise and conquer Magical Britain."

Hesitating, Lucius asked, "My son?"

'Draco? No!' Narcissa declared.

"You can seed your wife with another child, and this boy's immature magical core is perfect to allow me to mould him to be the vessel I need," the voice said.

"But, my lord, my son is precious to me and my wife."

"And is not the life of your lord precious?" asked the voice. "Besides, you will be the father of the Dark Lord Reborn Draconis. You will rule all of Magical Britain for me as regent while I deal with Ireland and then begin the conquest of the continent. France and the Lowlands will fall easily to my new powers."

Lucius imagined how to tell Narcissa in such a way that she would believe in the honour of providing the vessel for the Dark Lord's return. The feeble voice, noticeably stronger since he held onto the diary, again promised, "Unlimited gold Lucius! Just imagine the mountain of gold…perhaps the entire manor can be converted to gold."

Narcissa listened as her husband was convinced. What hurt most was Draco begging, "Father…please don't let me…"

And Lucius replied, "Silence, Draco."

End Chapter