A/U. Long time, no time. This idea has been running through my head for a while now and I just had to put it into pixels. Hope you enjoy.
Vernon Dursley paused in the mudroom before leaving the house. He took a look at himself in the mirror and adjusted the straining belt trying to contain his polo shirt clad stomach. I still got it, heh. He wasn't a church going man, hadn't been back aside from the odd funeral since practically his baptism. His mother was bothered about that, but Vernon Dursley hadn't given it a second thought. He was a man of business, not a man of the cloth. A good Sunday morning to Vernon was a chance to mow and weed the front lawn, and perhaps escape to a local pub before Petunia got down his back about organizing his closet. He liked how things were quite as they were, thank you very much.
He opened the door, and took a deep breath of the early morning London air. Not the clean country air you'd get when on holiday, but not too bad today. Things are already looking up. As he strode forward with an eye toward a particularly shaggy section of lawn, mustn't let that continue, that immigrant chap Arun from down the street, decent bloke once you get a beer or three in him, will never let me hear the end of it, his foot slipped on an envelope casually strewn upon the stepping stone walkway that led to the street. Mail, on a Sunday?
It was a large thick envelope with some heft to it. Inside was a folder, made of the nice material. Hmm, a broad smile crossed his face and a satisfied flush crept up his cheeks, in Grunnings, we'd only use this stuff when we needed to impress someone. I guess I'm a VIP now. Look at that Mum. A large overwrought gold symbol adorned the folder with bold letters beneath reading Gringotts Bank UK. Intrigued, Vernon made a hasty retreat to his small porch and settled his weight into a lawn chair. The chair squealed indignantly but otherwise held. Astonishing how much past the recommended maximum capacity these chairs actually can handle.
Gringotts, I never heard of them before. They seem to have been around a while. What exactly do they need for me? A finely typed letter on crisp stationary greeted him when the folder was opened.
To Mr. Vernon J. Dursley,
Mr. E. G. Higgins has been selected as your personal liaison with Gringotts bank. He will be in charge of managing account number 5298401 on your behalf.
The account has been labeled as a special use account. Funds are to be directly transferred at the beginning of each month until July 1997 AD.
Our Client, Prof. A.P.W.B Dumbledore, has referred you to our firm for proper assistance in rendering the transference of all owed funds and to render full accounting and payment of contributions.
In view whereof, formal request is hereby made upon you to contact us. Otherwise, our client, A.P.W.B. Dumbledore will be required to issue the transference to next of kin.
Sincerely,
E. G. Higgins AAMS AEP AFA CEP CPWA RBP WMS
Senior Vice President Gringotts South
Further enclosed was a stack of financial records, indicating that a trust fund had been opened up on behalf of the Potter orphan, and as the guardian, Vernon was the sole beneficiary of the funds dedicated towards remuneration for the guardianship.
It would have all seemed rather fishy, but Vernon recently had a conversation with his wife where she had assured him that her sister had made financial arrangements that would make it worthwhile for them to continue to take care of the boy. Vernon had been insistent that if proper arrangements were not in place, he was not going to give the boy handouts taken from his hard earned money. He didn't work himself to the bone climbing the corporate ladder in Grunnings just so all the promotion money would go towards feeding an extra mouth. A man is entitled to the fruits of his labor. And, hell, the kid would be much better suited with people of his kind, or at least an orphanage. That's why orphanages exist, and after all, if they didn't take in the available orphans, then why should hard working guys like him be guilt tripped into giving charity to support these places. As he perused the financial papers with some more depth, he was pleased with what he was seeing. Unlike his feared horrendous outcome where those barbarians try to pay them off with trinkets pulled out of hats, this seemed to be a solid, sturdy financial arrangement. This is the kind of thing that Vernon cut his teeth on working in the business world.
He was especially chuffed that his account seemed to be of high enough priority that a vice president was assigned to his account. Vernon didn't think that it was the genuine vice president of the firm. He had been dealing in the business district long enough to know that inflation wasn't just for money, it was for titles as well. Still, a senior vice president meant that this Higgins fellow was capable of throwing some weight around in the firm. Well, I guess I have to head Uptown sometime this week now. I'll give them a call on Monday and make a time for a meeting.
Vernon paused in the entryway before he left the house. He looked in the mirror and sucked in his stomach, I still got it, heh. One minor adjustment to his striped necktie (in his university colors naturally) and he was ready to go. Petunia had told him to wear a dark matching cardigan beneath his business suit. "It makes you look more distinguished", she had said. Vernon hadn't been sure about that, but he was very sure it was not worth a fight.
He stepped out and gave a careful glance at Arun the neighbors lawn. Looking a little shabby around the edges, he internally chortled. One last careful check to make sure he had his pager and all necessary documents and Vernon was pulling out of the driveway.
Traffic was bad, but not enough to raise anyone's blood pressure. Even Vernon's hypertension was held at bay. Perhaps patience is just to be expected with a big payday on the way.
Gringotts was a large imposing building decorated in a neoclassic Greco- Roman style. Pillars and carved murals and things. Not something Vernon cared for. It was located in an upscale part of the business district that he didn't recognize even though he often was in this section of town for work. He handed the valet his keys and strode confidently into the bank lobby. A stout clerk with a gravelly voice intercepted him immediately by the door. "Ah yes, we've been expecting you. Mr. Higgins will be with you shortly," and ushered him off. He was speedily led down a long hallway plus or minus a few twists and turns and finally placed in a large corner office bedecked out in all sorts of imposing business paraphernalia.
The door soon swung open and a very short man with wavy salt and pepper hair that curled over the tips of his ears confidently walked in. He was clad in a very expensive looking navy pinstriped suit and exuded a very professional persona.He extended in his hand in greeting to Vernon and then sat down and after a few perfunctory greetings, in a quick, matter-of-fact tone, Edward G. Higgins laid out the specific financial details of the arrangement.
"I trust that will be satisfactory?" he asked in that confusing half statement-half question tone the English often affect.
Vernon responded affirmatively. Higgins leaned back in his chair and squinting his eyes, as if he was sizing up the man on the other side of the desk.
"Mr. Dursley," he said in a clipped tone, "this arrangement is to last for nearly twenty years. I fully intend on being in the business for all those years, so we will have much to do with each other."
"Until now, we've just discussed the what. Now let's discuss us. I am your financial advisor. I was appointed by the barrister representing Professor Albus Dumbledore. He was in charge of arranging the myriad details from the will of the Potters and that means his word is final. There will be no changing of the arrangement unless in the case of death wherein the client, that's you, will be handed off to my successor."
"All of that is to say, given the reality that we will be spending many years in this arrangement, we ought to get to know each other. You seem a man of business and I like that. We can accomplish tremendous things with the right sense of vision and cooperation."
Vernon nodded. Sensible man, this Higgins. He explained his current position in Grunnings, perhaps exaggerating just a bit to impress. Something about the name Dumbledore was nibbling at him while he was speaking.
"Tell me, why is it that you consort with those people?" Higgins raised an eyebrow. Vernon continued.
"I'm not a fool, you know. This professor fellow ran a school. That's the special one my sister-in-law attended. I know with who I am dealing! What is your place in all this?" The animus was quite clear from his tone.
Higgins relaxed his shoulders, tapped his fingers on the desk and stood up. He walked over to the large window overlooking the city and stared down at the street.
"I'm glad to see you are fully aware of the dynamic," he responded, his words emerging as sharp staccato pulses. There was a noted emphasis on the word fully. "My bank offers a particular service to those people, although we do not consider ourselves to be of that world. We live in a world of business and have found it most lucrative. One has to hold his nose at times. Let me clarify further."
Higgins turned around and mumbled something unintelligible. The view from the window faded and was replaced with a dull simulated glow. Vernon looked around and noticed that Higgins' face, which had prior to this looked like a generic Englishmen, now was painted in much sharper relief. Cheekbones were in much more prominent relief and his nose extended to a sharp tip.
"I am not one of those people, the wizards," he spat. "I am a goblin and a businessman."
"These wizards don't understand the world of finance. They just come to us and expect us to make it all right for them. These barbarians still use the gold standards for heavens sake! They don't have any concept of equity financing, nor dividends. They think smallcap and largecap are just sizes for their needlessly pointy Wizarding hats! I am a very prestigious banker. I have personally managed hundreds of millions of pounds in the real world, and whenever a wizard comes knocking, I have to explain dollers and cents to him!?" In a mocking tone, he continued,
"Mrs, you know what inflation is? No, OK don't worry it's verry complex. We'll take gooood care of you don't worry. Just wait a second and the good helpful goblin will assist you. Just because we lost a war to them three hundred years ago, we still have to deal with them and their ignorance. Argh, it could drive a man insane, I tell you!"
Vernon was aghast. Dealing with dunderheads in Grunnings was dreadful enough, but this was a new level. Anyone can see that Higgins was a man of means. A man worthy of respect. Being a goblin didn't mean anything when you were controlling such vast sums of money. To not only have such shameful ignorance, but prance around as if holier than thou pulling rabbits out of hats. Why, the stupidity!
"My goodness, Edward- you don't mind?- that sounds dreadful. Why do you do this?"
"Well, once I was stuck here- tribal politics and this was determined to be the best place for me- I've been building up a plan to take advantage of the vast resources of the Wizarding world. Can you imagine a whole economy that has yet to understand Futures or Quantitative Easing? There's a fortune to be made. I just need the equity. I like you, we think the same. Perhaps we can work together some, and see if a mutually beneficial arrangement can be made?"
"Absolutely." There's nothing worse than an idiot who doesn't have an ounce of self awareness. These stuck up ignorant wizard folks need someone to show them how it's done.
Fin