Disclaimer: I do not own anything in this story that is recognisable from the Harry Potter books, movies, etc. Everything else however (eg. story plot, original characters, etc.) stems from my own imagination and belongs to me. No copyright infringement is intended and I am not profiting financially from this story in any way.
AN: Edited on 30th March 2008.
Chapter 2 – Visiting with Goblins
Sun, 18/9/2005
"…rry…ha…arry…ake…up…"
Splash!
"Ahhhh!"
With a scream and a muffled curse Harry eyes flew open and he jolted to full wakefulness. Seeing the attacker looming above him he acted on instincts finely honed through years of war.
"Stupefy, Expelliarmus, Incarcerous!"
In one second flat his opponent was unconscious, unarmed and restrained. Taking a moment to spell himself dry, he began examining his surroundings, determined to ensure that there were no other opponents nearby. Looking about he found himself in a familiar open field; the field from the portal. Although he could see no other enemies about he was worried to notice that Neville was also nowhere to be found.
Having sufficiently assessed the situation he clamped down on his worry over his friend's fate and focussed on solving the problem. His best bet was to question his prisoner. Wand extended defensively he nudged the man with his foot and rolled him over. Then he burst out laughing.
It was Neville.
After several moments he managed to regain enough control to speak again.
"Rennervate," he waved his wand over the man and he awoke.
"What- I- you-" his friend stuttered before glaring, "I can't believe you did that."
"Well, you did attack me."
"I dropped a bucket of water on you! That hardly qualifies as an 'attack'."
"Cold water."
"Fine, a bucket of cold water."
"Why did you do that anyway?"
"Well you weren't waking up."
"Did you try casting a 'Rennervate'?"
"Well, no. But it's not my fault," he said defensively, voice rising in pitch, "I woke up to find it was morning, so we'd both been unconscious for hours. Then you weren't waking. I panicked and you know how I get when I panic. I become impulsive," a sad look crossed his face and he added quietly, "Luna always used to say so."
"She did, didn't she," Harry agreed just as quietly before adopting a more cheery tone of voice, not wanting his friend to be sad "Well I'll forgive you this once, even though I'm not entirely convinced you didn't just do it for your own twisted amusement."
Neville gave him a knowing look that said he knew what he was up to but smiled thankfully all the same. As the moment passed he began wriggling uncomfortably. He looked down then back up pointedly, drawing Harry's attention to the fact that he was still bound.
"A little help?"
"Right, sorry. Evanesco."
With the incantation the ropes disappeared. Reaching a hand down Harry helped his brother to his feet and the two began looking about curiously.
"Any idea where we are Harry?"
"Evan."
"Sorry, Evan. I'll try not to forget again."
"No problem Leander…" Harry paused and screwed up his nose, "Do you know I never stopped to consider what a mouthful that would be."
"Could be worse."
"Still, I think I'll have to shorten it like I used to with Neville."
"You do know I never particularly liked being called Nev," it wasn't really a question.
"Sure you did Lea."
A sigh, "You're impossible."
"Yeah, but you love me anyway," he grinned cheekily before remembering the original question, "As to where we are, I have no clue. At least we've not succumbed to the 0.017 percent," he added brightly.
"The what?"
"Remember the letter said there was a 0.017 percent chance of us ending up in a world our bodies couldn't survive."
"Oh," realisation dawned, "I remember. Well, that's something to be thankful for I suppose."
"Yep. Plus, we avoided the 0.031 and the 0.004 as well."
"Remind me again what those were."
"Erasing our souls from existence and destroying the fabric of time respectively."
"Ah. Well that's also rather nice," he smiled wryly.
Harry smiled back and they stayed that way for a moment, in companionable silence before Neville interrupted it.
"Moment over?"
"Oh yeah."
"Down to business then."
"Right. I think the first thing we need to do is go to Gringotts."
"Assuming there is a Gringotts here," the elder twin interjected.
"Yes, well. The letter said this world should be similar to ours with only minor differences. So, I'm going to go ahead and assume that Gringotts is still there."
"Makes sense."
"I rather thought so. So what say we Apparate to the courtyard behind the Leaky Cauldron and go from there?"
"Sounds like a plan."
"Alright, meet you there."
One pop echoed across the field followed shortly after by another as the two men disappeared.
..ooOOoo..
With two soft pops first one then the other Franklin brother Apparated into existence in a small dingy courtyard. Both were tense, automatically prepared in case they encountered trouble. Seeing the area was empty but for them they each relaxed, though only slightly. Raising his wand, the smaller of the two tapped out a sequence on the bricks before stepping back as they began rearranging themselves to form the archway into Diagon Alley.
Once the bricks had settled they both stepped hesitantly through the archway, staring about in wonder. It had been so long since the Alley was destroyed in their home dimension but here- here it was fully intact, looking just as they once remembered it.
It had been longer still since people had braved the Alley as incautiously as those they now witnessed. Years of war with Voldemort had lent the wizarding world of their home an atmosphere of fear and danger. Wizards and witches would do their business quickly, walking about with heads down and wands firmly grasped. Children were kept safely at home and no one ever talked to strangers.
But not so here; here it was like Harry's first time in Diagon Alley all over again. It was all hustle and bustle and yelling and laughter. Children ran about dodging between adults' feet and everyone greeted stranger and friend alike with openness. It was wonderful.
It wasn't until he heard Neville sniffle and turned to see the tears tracking down his cheeks that he realised that he too was crying. Hastily wiping them away he nudged his companion affectionately and gave a wavering smile.
"Best buck up and wipe away those tears before passers-by notice and start giving us odd looks," to which Neville made a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh.
"Right, best not to draw attention and all that," he said, wiping his eyes and regaining control of himself.
"That and you look like a pansy."
That comment earned him a more genuine laugh and the two finally stepped forward out into the crowd. As they made their way through the throng, they let their guards down a little for once, enjoying the cheerful atmosphere and drinking in the sight of the Alley as it once was.
They passed the cauldron shop and apothecary, before getting momentarily sidetracked when they reached Quality Quidditch Supplies. Neville had walked a whole ten steps before realising Harry was no longer with him. He then had to retrace his footsteps and drag his drooling companion away from a window display of what appeared to be the sequel to the Firebolt.
After that they continued on past familiar stores. Eeylops Own Emporium was there, as was Flourish & Blotts and Madam Malkin's. Harry even recognised the once familiar face of Florean Fortescue serving a sundae at his ice-cream parlour.
Finally however they rounded the corner and spied the looming white columns of Gringotts up ahead and hurried their pace. They both nodded politely to the guard-Goblin as they passed the bronze doors who managed to sneer somewhat less in response. They then passed through the engraved silver doors and entered the dimly lit hall.
In their home world the Goblins had declared firm neutrality in the raging conflict. Voldemort's dissatisfaction with their response had required them to call upon a vast amount of Goblin-magics to ward their bank against the actions of those who would disregard their unwillingness to take sides. Said magics had ensured that Gringotts remained almost unaffected by the surrounding destruction, and so it was that this bank was for the most part the same as the one they had left behind. The main differences being that here there were more tellers, fewer guards and more customers.
The two brothers joined the rather short queue for new accounts, awaiting their turn. The sight of a familiar Goblin across the hall caught Harry's attention and he turned to his friend with a questioning look.
"So, I only know a little about how this works, but we'll need to have a manager or something right?"
"Definitely, given the size of our account. Most pure-bloods tend not to trust Goblins too much though so they usually oversee a lot of it themselves. But, unless they want to do so full-time, there's really too much work for them alone. Besides, it's a bit of a status symbol having a Gringotts account manger; a sign that you have enough gold for the Goblins to have a personal interest in you."
"Hmm," he nodded in understanding, still eying the Goblin across the hall thoughtfully.
"Why the question? And what are you staring at?"
"Well I wasn't sure if it was just a thing for the old pure-blood families."
"Having an account manager?"
"Yeah."
"Not, it's mostly to do with wealth. Gran used to drill this kind of stuff into me when I was younger for when we had meetings with our manager Krogen. She'd constantly be telling me that money doesn't manage itself. Back to my question though, that still doesn't explain what you're staring at."
"Well I remember when I first found out my account extended beyond my trust vault."
"And you found out that Dumbledore had had his fingers in your finances. My ears are still ringing after all these years just remembering your reaction."
"It was justified," he interrupted his staring to give the man beside him a righteous glare.
"No arguments here," he raised his hands defensively.
"Good. Anyway it turns out he was bribing my account manager."
"I do know all this already."
"Quiet, I'm getting to the point. So, he was bribing my account manager so I had to get help from another Goblin. The Goblin that was helping me was called Griphook. I think he was so helpful straight away because I recognised him as the one who took me to my vault the first time I came here."
"And you remembered him by sight? How? They all seem the same to me."
"Really? He seemed to respect the fact that I'd taken notice to actually recognise him, but I honestly couldn't understand why someone wouldn't."
"Trust me on this. Most wizards or witches wouldn't. At least not one they hadn't seen before quite a number of times."
"Another example of the wizarding world's prejudice," he frowned in disgust.
"I don't think that's it," at the sceptical eyebrow raised in his direction he amended, "Okay; maybe it is a big part of it. But I reckon I'm an open minded sort myself."
"We have counted two house elves as family in our time."
"Exactly. And despite that, I honestly still have trouble telling Goblins apart. It must just be one of those random skills you have. Like flying and duelling and Monopoly," he grinned at the snort that comment generated, "I do hate that game."
"Fred and George used to love it though."
"Pair of joke business entrepreneurs that they were, how could they not?" they shared a smile, "Back to the point though, you've still not answered my question."
"Question? Oh, what I was staring at? Well I ended up replacing Dumbledore's little Goblin puppet and making Griphook my manager, as I've no doubt told you-"
"You have," a pause, "Fine, fine, I'll stop interrupting."
"Thank you," he sniffed and they both took a step forward as the woman at the counter finished her business and the man in front of them stepped up to the teller, "What I was staring at was a Goblin across the hall. I thought he might be Griphook but I can't tell from this far away."
"So that's what got you thinking about account managers."
"Yeah. Plus I was thinking I might see if I can make him my account manager here as well."
"Really?"
"Well he was always very helpful, not to mention honest and to the point. At least the other version of him was – I'm assuming this Griphook would be similar. And, from the few times I met with him, and the account information he showed me, he had my fortune growing by leaps and bounds, even during the war. That's good right?"
"Yes Evan," he said condescendingly, obviously amused by his friend's ignorance of money management, "That's very good."
"I'm going to pretend you weren't just being patronising."
"Appreciated."
"I'm so sure," he rolled his eyes, "What about you? Is there a particular Goblin you want to manage your gold?"
He thought on it for a moment, "Not that I can think of."
"What about your old one? Krogen you said?" to which Neville wrinkled his nose in distaste.
"Nasty, crotchety old creature. Reminded me of that insane elf of yours."
"From the latter sentence I might have assumed you meant Dobby but given the former and the fact that we both actually loved him I'm guessing you mean Kreacher."
"Yeah, and he treated Gran like Kreacher treated Mrs Black's portrait. He was the picture of courtesy whenever she was around but when she wasn't he was horrible."
"Right, so not Krogen," a sly look crossed his face, "How about your friend Grellnick?"
He gave a laugh as he dodged the shove aimed his way. Before they could carry on any further a pointedly cleared throat drew their attention to the fact that the man in front of them had obviously already finished and gone on his way. Composing themselves somewhat, they stepped up to the disapproving and impatient looking Goblin.
"State your business," he said in an imperious tone.
"We're here to open new accounts," Neville explained, only to get an annoyed sigh and eye roll in return.
"Well this is the new accounts queue, so I would hope so," he said snarkily.
At Neville's embarrassed look, Harry stepped forward to take over.
"That Goblin over there," he pointed across the hall, "Is he called Griphook?"
The Goblin behind the teller gave him a strange look before turning to see the being in question, who had just returned from escorting a man to his vault.
"Yes, I believe so," he said finally.
"Great, I'd like him to be my account manager."
"Mine too," at Harry's questioning look Neville just shrugged, "Well you recommended him and I can't think of anyone else."
"His too then."
"And can I assume you are both wealthy enough to qualify for a manager?" he seemed to have a sour look on his face.
"Yes, definitely," he said confidently, thinking of his piles of gold and the Goblin's face twisted.
"Fine," he snarled, "Griphook!"
As they waited for Griphook to make his way to then Harry leaned over and whispered into his friend's ear.
"Did he just snarl at me?"
"I believe so, but you can't really blame him."
"Why?"
"Well he probably hoped that we wouldn't know any Goblins personally and he could appoint himself our account managers. It's considered quite an honour."
"Oh, yes. Gri-" he glanced at the teller who was trying to overhear their conversation before whispering again, "The other Griphook told me that being appointed to the Potter fortune was considered a rather large promotion."
"It would be, the Potter fortune is one of the bigger ones."
They both silenced as Griphook reached the other Goblin who leaned down from his stool to speak to him. After a few moments his eyebrow rose and he looked towards the two humans. Having delivered his message the teller summarily dismissed all three of them with a haughty wave of his long-fingered hand and proceeded to ignore them.
Griphook approached the brothers looking each of them over. They smiled and nodded politely at him and he nodded indicating they follow him.
"This way sirs."
They were then led out of the hall and down a corridor from which they took a number of turns before being led into a nondescript office with a desk and comfortable chairs for guests. The brothers each took seats as Griphook went around behind the desk and clambered up onto the wingback chair settled behind it.
"Well," he said finally, hands clasped before him, "I believe you already know I am called Griphook."
"Yes," taking this for an introduction Harry responded in kind, "And my name is Evan Franklin. This is my brother," there was a moment of silence before he looked pointedly at his brother.
"Oh, Sorry. Leander Franklin, pleasure to meet you," Neville finally introduced himself, remembering his manners.
"Might I inquire as to why sirs requested me by name?"
"You probably wouldn't remember but we've met a few times and you seemed very competent and very honest," this was only a half-truth since it was a different Griphook he had met, but the green-eyed brother figured it was the best explanation he could give.
"I see," he sat up straighter, obviously satisfied with the matter-of-fact tone in which the compliments were delivered, "Now I understand you wish to create new accounts. You are aware the in order to qualify for a part time account manager your assets must tally at least five hundred thousand Galleons whereas for a full time account manager your worth must be one million Galleons, minimum?"
The Goblin looked toward Harry for confirmation, correctly assuming him to be the leader of the two. Harry however was well aware that Neville, having grown up as a wealthy pure-blood, was better suited to take control in certain situations. This was one of them.
"We both definitely qualify for the full time option," he said to the pleasure of their prospective account manager, "But other than that, so far as banking goes, you're better off asking Lea here," he indicated his brother who nodded in understanding.
Confident in this subject, Neville and Griphook soon got into a detailed and rousing debate about interest rates and vault keeping fees and a dozen other things that went completely over Harry's head. He sat back and half listened to the two, contemplating what they should do next.
Two things struck him as the most obvious. Firstly they would need somewhere to live. The second was that they would need to do some research into the history of this world to find out any obvious differences. One should always be as prepared as possible after all.
"Done!"
At Griphook's exclamation he focussed back on the two others to see them shaking hands, both obviously quite happy with the results of their conversation, whatever they may have been. Harry trusted that Neville was best equipped to deal with their finances so he didn't bother asking.
"So what now?" he asked his smiling brother.
"I assume we have to fill in some paperwork and then deposit our gold and such."
He looked to the Goblin at that who nodded and proceeded to tap a certain pattern on his desk. Then he pressed a small gold button in the very centre of the desk – which Harry had not noticed previously – and a 'ding' sounded as a draw shot open out the side of the desk. Neville stepped forward as though this were perfectly normal – which it most likely was – and withdrew a stack of parchment before closing the drawer.
"Okay, what's all that for?" he asked in confusion as his brother proceeded to separate the stack into two piles.
"This is the paperwork I was talking about."
"Indeed," Griphook interjected, "First I need some personal information for our records."
He then went on to ask the two of them a few basic questions such as their full names and date of birth. They had decided to keep their original birthdays – Neville on the 30th of July and Harry on the 31st – since it was still conceivable for twins to be born a day apart. Eventually Griphook had finished making the additions to the paperwork and pushed the piles back towards them.
"If you could look over the contracts and sign at the appropriate places."
"Here," Neville handed Harry one of the piles, "It's mostly the same as mine. I'll double check my copy; you just sign at the red marks on yours."
"Where do I get a-"
"Quills sirs," Griphook smoothly interrupted with a smirk.
Harry accepted the quills with a roll of his eyes placing his brother's down next to him. Neville had by this stage read through a quarter of his pile so he assumed it would be alright to start signing. As he found the first red mark he abruptly broke out in curses.
"What? What's wrong," Neville asked worriedly.
"I believe your brother was unaware blood quills are used for magically binding contracts," the perversely amused Goblin chuckled.
"No, I knew," he said defensively, avoiding eye contact with the other two, "I just- forgot. Caught me by surprise is all. This isn't funny," he told still amused Goblin.
"Actually," his brother disagreed, unapologetically, "It kinda is."
"Traitor," he pouted and proceeded to ignore them both in an obvious manner.
As the sound of his companions' amusement dimmed he continued signing at the red marks, eyes flicking briefly over the details as he did so. Upon reaching the halfway mark he looked over to make sure Neville had read over and approved up to that point, only to find that he had finished and was starting to add his own signatures. They worked together in silence for some minutes and finished signing the contracts at about the same time.
"Done," he sighed, placing his quill on the table.
"Me too."
As Griphook leaned forward to look over their paperwork Harry became aware of a dull throbbing of his hand. He looked down to see the copy of his signature carved into the back of it. Pulling out his wand he healed the cut and cleaned up the blood left over.
"Episkey, Tergeo."
"Good idea," said Neville, "Now where did I put my wand?"
As Neville began searching through his pockets Harry stared in amusement at the wand that had, at some time during his discussions with Griphook, been placed neatly on the desk before him. Under normal circumstances he would let him search for a little longer, but the previously mentioned Goblin seemed to be getting impatient. Knowing nothing good could come of such a thing he coughed loudly, drawing the searching wizard's attention.
"This what your looking for?" he smirked, picking up the wand.
"Thanks," Neville said, blushing in embarrassment as he accepted the wand, "Episkey, Tergeo."
"Well," Griphook interrupted brusquely, "All seems to be in order. I'll just file this paperwork."
With that he began tapping another pattern on his desk – different to the last time – before pressing the gold button once again. A 'ding' sounded and another draw shot open, this time from the opposite side of the desk. Griphook clambered down from his chair and deposited the two signed contracts in the draw, shutting it firmly. There was a brief pause before another 'ding' sounded out and both Neville and the Goblin nodded in satisfaction.
"All is in order. Your accounts have been approved and filed. Now, if sirs would follow me we shall take a trip to your vaults."
Griphook then lead the way from the office, leaving his two clients scurrying to catch up. As they came abreast of him he looked them both over carefully.
"You do have your gold with you?" he said in a tone that indicated it was to the benefit of their health that they did.
"O-of course," Neville squeaked nervously.
"Shrunken trunks," Harry clarified and Griphook nodded in satisfaction.
A few minutes later the three of them were ensconced in a cart, speeding through the labyrinth of tunnels beneath Gringotts. The trip seemed to take a lot longer than Harry recalled from whenever he came to withdraw money from his trust vault. There also seemed to pass a far greater number of dragons and other such beasts. It reminded him quite a bit of the few times he had travelled to the Potter family vault. Upon reflection that made sense since all the old pure-blood families were known to hold high security vaults and he recalled skimming briefly over the security details in the contract; Neville had chosen one of the higher security options for their fortunes.
Finally the cart slowed down before coming to a rough stop. Griphook climbed out of the cart, the other two following.
"Vault number forty-two, vault for Mr Franklin the younger," said the Goblin.
They stood in a small recess, before a huge door, easily the size of one of those guarding the entrance to Hogwarts. The entire area was cast in shadows and Harry briefly considered fetching the lamp before their Goblin manager made a movement. With a click of his gnarled fingers two torches lit at either side of the door.
The trip down, the torches, the large door – it was all reminding Harry a great deal of The Potter family vault, not to mention the Longbottom vault from the one time he accompanied Neville to it. He had previously thought only the pure-blood families had vaults like this and he voiced the opinions aloud.
"This vault previously belonged to the Donahue family till the mid nineteenth century," Griphook explained, "The patriarch of said family at the time had a habit of gambling. Needless to say it reached the stage where he could no longer afford the upkeep of such a prestigious vault."
"I see. How come the door doesn't have the Donahue crest on it?"
"The crest is added when a family sets up the vault. I assume it's just as easily removed if they lose the vault," Neville explained and Griphook nodded in agreement.
"Now, to activate the vault it needs to be bonded to its master by name, blood and magic," their account manager began explaining to Harry.
"This isn't going to hurt is it," he asked the Goblin warily, disturbed by the toothy grin he got in return.
"Even less than a blood quill Mr Franklin," he assured him and Harry got the distinct impression he was being teased, "Firstly you must make a cut across your palm. Then, place your hand on the door and state your full name and that you lay claim to this vault."
"Okay," he said and cast a light severing charm on his left hand, "Diffindo."
"We should step back so as not to confuse the magic part of the ritual," Griphook advised Neville.
"Magic part?" he asked overhearing.
"As I said, the vault needs to be bonded to you by name, blood and magic. You call out your name; you place your blood on the door; and as for your magic, the vault will read it."
"Well get on with it then, before you bleed to death," Neville joked.
Realising that he was in fact dripping blood on the floor from the cut in his hand, he quickly stepped forwards and placed the palm in the centre the metal door. With a deep breath he spoke in a clear and confident voice.
"I, Evan Foley Franklin, do lay claim to this vault."
He watched fascinated as the blood smeared across the door seemed to be absorbed. Then, he felt gentle probes of magic extend from the vault. Instinctively, he knew what to do. For a moment, he released a pulse of his magic, lighting up the small recess and the probes paused before withdrawing.
He removed his hand and turned around to look at the other two. Neville smiled at him and came forward, taking his newly made brother's hand and withdrawing his wand.
"Episkey, Tergeo."
"Thanks," he smiled back as his now clear hand was returned.
"Well, if you will now open your vault we can deposit your gold," Griphook said in a businesslike tone, "In order to open the doors simply state your name and that you wish access to your vault."
He nodded, although he already knew this from when he accessed his Family vault. Repeating the required phrase, the door swung open to show a large, empty cavern. He took a step in before recalling that no one else could enter his vault without his permission. Remembering also how to change that fact, he turned and reached his hand across the threshold to take his brother's own.
"I, Evan Foley Franklin, do give permission to Leander Philip Franklin, to enter my vault."
The wards at the door shimmered visibly for a moment before settling and Neville entered after him. Griphook stood by the door waiting for them. Knowing what he needed to do next, he removed from his pocket the shrunken trunk his brother had given to him before the trip.
"Engorgio," he tapped it with his wand and it expanded to full size.
The trunk had two metal plates on the front. Kneeling down he reached out his hand with thumb extended, towards the leftmost one.
"Coins are in the first compartment, right?"
"Yeah, other items are in the second," Neville nodded.
Nodding back, he pressed his thumb against the plate. There was a quick sting as his finger was pricked and then a pause as it sampled his blood. Then, with a warm red glow, he felt his finger heal as the trunk gave a click and unlocked itself, enabling him to open its lid. Looking down into obviously magically-enlarged interior he was presented with a huge, hall-sized room, drowned mostly in Galleons but with a few Sickles and Knuts interspersed.
"So, how about I go down and pass the gold up to you," he suggested much to his brother amusement.
"Are you a wizard or a Muggle?" Neville asked, "Why don't you just levitate it out?"
"Oh," he said sheepishly before an even better idea struck him, "Or, I could do this. Wingardium Leviosa."
With a flick and them a twist of his wand, the trunk rose up and then tipped, turning over. There was then a loud crashing sound as all of a sudden, gold began raining down into the vault. They each stared for a few minutes as the gold began piling up before Neville turned to look at him. He was obviously trying to keep a straight face but the twitch at the corner of his lip gave him away.
"That works too I guess," and they both broke out into laughter.
They stood there for some time as the piles of gold grew higher and higher. Eventually a choking sound caught their attention. Griphook was standing by the door, jaw hanging and eyes bulging. He looked utterly gobsmacked. Harry frowned in worry and leaned over to his brother.
"Is he alright, do you reckon?" he asked quietly.
"He's probably just surprised at the amount of gold," Neville explained.
"Didn't he already know?"
"No, he knew we had at least one million each – to qualify for a full time Gringotts account manager – but I never mentioned exactly how much we had. That gets officially tallied after we've deposited everything."
"Ah. Well this is considerably more than that."
"True; and Goblins do like their gold."
"Larger promotion than you were expecting?" he called out cheekily to the stunned creature.
"It- there- gold-" he managed to respond.
"I think that's a yes," Neville observed dryly.
Griphook finally managed to snap himself out of his stupor and turned his attention from the ever increasing mountains of gold to the two brothers.
"I had not realised just how large your fortune was, sir. Is the other Mr Franklin's anywhere near as large as this?"
"Lea's is slightly less than mine, but not by much."
"Wonderful," their account manager looked truly delighted at the prospect.
Eventually the rain of gold slowed to a trickle. The trunk had to be shaken about a little to dislodge the few remaining coins, but soon the trunk's compartment was empty. Once that was done he closed the lid and propped it up in a corner.
The second compartment contained various items and heirlooms. However, since it might raise questions if Griphook saw items with the Potter, Black – or in Neville's case Longbottom – crests on them, they had both decided to simply leave the trunks in their vault without unpacking that compartment.
"All done. Now we just need to step back so Griphook can create a ledger," Neville said, dragging his confused brother from the vault.
"I remember there being a ledger in our old family vaults," he whispered, "But what do you mean by make?"
"Goblin-magic. Just watch."
They both observed as Griphook stood at the threshold of the vault. He began mumbling what Harry was fairly sure was Gobbledegook under his breath and waving his bony hands about in intricate patterns before his body. As he continued to chant, his hands started glowing a yellow colour. The light made patterns in the air which floated into the vault. The lights settled just inside to the left of the door and although it took him a moment, Harry realised that it was forming the shape of a lectern, topped with a book. Finally the chanting reached a crescendo, Griphook dropped his hands, and with an inaudible 'snap' a solid wooden lectern and bound parchment book appeared. Harry was suitably impressed.
"Wow."
"Yeah," Neville agreed, "I've only seen Goblin-magic a few times but it's always fairly spectacular."
"With the chanting and the waving patterns it seems more like music and dancing than spell casting."
"You will find," a voice below them surprised the two, "That many magical species do indeed use music and dance for their magic. There was a time when wizards did also."
"Really?" he was surprised and intrigued.
"Indeed."
Curious, he walked over to the ledger to read what it said. It listed number of Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts – an impressive amount of the former and a good number of the latter two also – as well as a single other entry: 'Wizard's Trunk – two compartments – contents unknown'.
Business now finished, Harry closed the door to his vault and they clambered back into the cart. Griphook seemed quite amused at their bafflement as the cart rolled but a few metres forward before stopping again.
"The unlucky Mr Donahue also happened to be heir to the Wilson fortune. Coincidentally, the Wilson family vault was number forty-three."
From there they all climbed out from the cart. The old Wilson vault was much the same as what was once the Donahue one, and Neville was soon repeating the process Harry had gone through for his own vault. A half hour or so later two brothers and one very happy Goblin shut the door on several piles of gold, and returned to the cart for the trip back to the surface.
..ooOOoo..
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