Disclaimer: If ye know of Harry Potter, then ye know I don't own it- I'm male. Seemplz.

GOBLIN TURF

"…Just consider this when you open that letter: No matter what, you need to focus on defeating Voldemort. Don't forget that you can live." With that piece of advice in mind, Harry gently broke the aged wax.

The letter, obviously written many years ago, was crumbling at the edges. The ink had faded slightly, reminding Harry of the tattoo he needed research. The letter read (translated from the Old English):

To whom it may concern,

This is a Notice of Inheritance for the descendant of one Charlus Potter. Inheritance depends upon receipt and use of the Potter War Chest. The Inheritor must present themselves to the Head of Gringotts Goblin Bank (any Branch) and state the Inheritance Reference Number (#0000049). The Inheritor must also be prepared to prove Inheritance. If the Inheritor is underage, this Notice will be delayed until recognised as 'of age' by the standing government.

May your gold run ever freely,

Magnok the Money-Grabber,

Head of Gringotts Goblin Bank, Great Britain, Ireland and Scotland,

986 AD – 1066 AD

Harry looked up from the missive, and frowned. He thought that, by the amount of modern guns in the… War Chest? That Charlus Potter was a somewhat recent ancestor. And yet, this was definitely a millennia old. He filed the thought away until later. He had an inheritance to collect. The envelope held a small slip of parchment stating the password for the portkey to work.

"Jacques, I'm probably going to do some shopping, OK? So I'll probably be all day. I need some good clothes. And somewhere to store my weapons where I can actually reach them. Is that Ok, sir? I can probably be back in time to properly introduce myself to your family?"

Jacques just shook his head, and gestured to the portkey. "Have fun, Harry. I'm off to breakfast."

Severus Snape woke from an uneasy sleep. The last thing he remembered was uttering his mindscape reset passphrase. His mind felt fuzzy, almost synonymous with the after-effects of possession. Severus picked himself up off the floor, groaning as he did so. Tucking his hair behind his ears, he felt an astonishing amount of grease and oil. What the hell? Had he forgotten to dread his hair, now that it was long enough?

His surroundings made themselves known. Potions room. Hogwarts. What had happened to him?

Oh.

Possession. Mindscape reset.

SHIT.

Severus Snape delved into his mindscape, searching for the events of the past who-knew-how-many-years. Detentions. Health and Safety flouted. Innumerable points taken from the other Houses. The Cultivating of Junior Death Eaters. What had he done? Who had done this?

Out of nowhere, swam an image of Albus Dumbledore with his wand pointed at his forehead. Sev remembered. That was… a year after graduation. The day after his heartfelt apologies and changing of ways had finally been registered by Lily.

"NO! No no no! NOO! What did he do? DUMBLEDORE!"

Severus Snape recalled the half-prophecy he'd relayed to Lord Voldemort.

Lily was dead. James was dead.

Harry took the portkey to Gringotts. Unlike the one he took a year ago to the Quidditch World Cup, this one merely sucked him through space into the Portkey Arrivals Room in Gringotts. He knew he was in Gringotts due to the sheer amount of goblins pointing spears at his face.

"Whoa, whoa! I come in peace! ƆƈƎƋŸŤƊ!" The last word, spoken in Gobbledegook, gave the goblins pause. One goblin, armed with a nasty-looking spear and garbed in brutish golden armour stepped forwards slightly.

"You speak our tongue? How have you come to know this tongue? How did you acquire a portkey to this place?!"

"Hey! I was sent a letter about my inheritance! And I learnt Gobbledegook from a book!" The lead goblin pulled up his spear and marched past Harry to the wall behind. On it was an arrivals board, showing the latest arrivals. The board showed Harry's portkey number on it. Number 0000001. The goblin slowly turned around, and looked at Harry through very wide eyes. It turns out that goblins don't have completely black eyes, after all.

"My Lord, I was not aware that that portkey still existed! If I had but known- Men! Stand down! Honour guard formation!" The goblins leapt to action, not even milling around in panic- two lines, one on either side of the door formed out of the crowd. Every goblin held a different style of spear, and wore different styles of armour. They must forge their own… Harry thought, thinking about the possibilities of using goblin forges to forge new weapons from the metal he had collected. He wondered if he could make more of it, actually. Anyway.

"My Lord, if you would care to follow me, I will lead you to the Head of Gringotts immediately!" Harry frowned. Goblins weren't usually this subservient. Harry followed the goblin, until he decided to ask why.

"Why are you being this subservient? What have I done to earn your respect?"

"The first ever portkey was given to our co-founder Charlus Potter to commemorate his help with founding our bank. His only wishes were for a letter to be conveyed to his heir, depending on unknown circumstances, when he appeared. Then, the man disappeared off of the face of the earth. Not a word. Owls returned, exhausted. For over one thousand years, nothing. And suddenly, you appear, sir. The heir of Gringotts' co-founder. Plus, we all know of your own exploits, my Lord. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, beaten off three times, is it now?" Harry nodded. "A basilisk, hundreds of Dementors, a troll? My Lord, not many have beaten a mountain troll at eleven years of age. You are worthy of praise, for your deeds alone. Your actions when given deference, such as now, show we are right- you may well usher in a new age for goblinkind and the other, so-called 'lesser races'. We're here, my Lord." The goblin showed Harry a small, unassuming door that looked to lead to a broom cupboard. Harry smirked, knowing this was a test in humility. Stepping forward, Harry turned the doorknob and stepped in, swiftly closing the door behind him.

Inside was normal-sized office. Not one of those massive executive-sized ones that take up a whole floor, but one with enough room to comfortably fit a medium-sized desk, two chairs on one side and a plush leather armchair on the other. On one side of the room was a small bookshelf, and on the other was an enchanted window showing a massive foundry glowing with heat. Sitting in the leather armchair behind the desk was a small, wizened goblin who looked older than even Dumbledore- and Dumbledore was approaching his one hundred and fifteenth birthday. The goblin seemed to be asleep, although Harry knew better- the pulse rate on the goblin's neck was too fast for slumber.

"Good morning, sir. I believe that I am to see you about my Inheritance?" The goblin cracked open one eye, and swiftly closed it again.

"Well, I can always take my money to the Swiss Gnomes?" Harry made an exaggerated movement of turning to leave, making sure to scrape the chair back a bit.

"Wait! Mr. Potter, I believe that you've passed our test! I merely wished to ensure your authenticity. Let us engage in the battle of business, yes?" The old goblin had straightened in his seat, and settled his hands in a steeple. Harry suddenly thought of the way in which Dumbledore sat.

"I was told to reference my Inheritance number… Number zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-four-nine?" Harry heard a pop as a folder appeared atop the bookcase to his right. He was impressed at the system, truth be told. The folder levitated over to the Head of Gringotts. He opened the folder, and withdrew a wafer-thin piece of paper. Not the usual parchment, but paper. There, through the paper, Harry could see an emblem. A Griffin stood on one side of a kite shield, and on the other, a badger. Perched atop the shield was a raven. The shield was strangely split into seven horizontal stripes. Red, Blue, Yellow, Black, Bronze, Gold. The centre stripe was runed, with the runes for protection, life and death. The old goblin set the paper down, and then spoke:

"Mr. Potter, this is a strange inheritance- it is entirely optional! If you choose to accept, well, put it like this- Magical Britain could live on your annual interest alone. The account has been deactivated since Charlus Potter's death in 1066, but has acquired the interest as a personal savings vault would. The titles come with the inheritance, as well as the properties- Mercia, Azkaban and Hogwarts. You should be aware- the Dementors of Azkaban would wish you harm if you took their territory. Mr. Potter, I must ask- how did you suddenly become this man's heir? I know he blocked off the traditional father-son inheritance."

Harry sat and thought for a second. Should I tell him how I became his heir? Or just be all mysterious? Harry thought. Although, I could do with some information from the Dementors… "Ragnok, do I look like the Harry Potter who was in the Daily Prophet every day of this last year? No, I think not. I am special, Ragnok. I am not entirely human. I have powers that people can only dream about. I have undergone intense training, just so that I can fulfil my destiny. I have need of funds to continue my training."

"I believe that the Potter family's inheritance was conveyed to you upon your eleventh birthday?"

"What? No! No I did not! I was given a trust vault, and that was all! And did you know that Dumbledore has been stealing from my personal vault for four years? Him and Mrs. Weasley have had control of my key, citing my inexperience in the wizarding world as a valid reason! Guess who decided to leave me out of it! Well, I want reparations, Ragnok! That money is everything my parents left me, AND THAT OLD GOAT HAS BEEN DIPPING HIS BALLS IN IT!" Harry quickly let fly the anger he'd kept in stock for three years fly, into the shocked face of the old goblin. He'd never been shouted at by a human before- only sneered. He could not believe that one of their vaults had been robbed by such an upstanding individual- actually, he could. Dumbledore came by once every six months to empty the vault, citing Harry's signature and wishes for more chocolates and lemon drops. The goblin snarled something in Gobbledegook.

At once, a goblin rushed into the room, spear at the ready. In rapid-fire Gobbledegook, he ordered the guard to retrieve the Potter Accounts Manager, Ribshaker. It took perhaps three minutes for the guard to return.

"Ah, Ribshaker, please, come in, come in! My appointment with Mr. Potter was just ending. Ribshaker, please, sit." The goblin's voice went ice-cold at the end. Ribshaker- the new goblin- sat down shakily. His eyes darted between Harry and the door. Very quickly, Harry walked to the door, and leaned against it. The symbolism was clear. Ribshaker was going nowhere.

"Ribshaker, it has been bought to my attention that the trust account under your control has been abused. Your thoughts?"

Ribshaker was shaking. The irony was not lost on Harry. "M- My king, I- Dumbledore- He, he-" Ragnok smiled.

"The fact that you will willingly sell him out means there really is no saving you, Ribshaker. Tell us what you know, and you will be let off most of the punishment, eh?" Ragnok suddenly hefted a giant mace onto the desk, and left it there. Right in front of Ribshaker's nose.

"My king, please-"

"NOW, Ribshaker. Or Mr. Potter gets free reign!" Harry grinned ferally as the goblin in question whipped around.

"ItookthemoneyandstoreditwiththeSwissGnomestoprotectitfromPotter'sbrashspendingandchangedtherecords!" Ribshaker expelled his guilt in one breath. Ragnok, however, was not pleased.

"You changed the records? The records that have not been touched since the founding of this bank? Do you realise what you have done?! We need to conduct audits, contract independent adjudicators to evaluate our findings- if this gets out, not even the Leprechauns would trust us with their gold!" Ragnok muttered to himself for a minute, until his eyes snapped into focus on the young goblin in front of him. The goblin had broken the highest goblin laws held up by the bank- he had both cheated a vault-owner, and changed the records. He knew what he had to do. He walked to the door, and called softy out.

"Guard, retrieve Ribshaker's mother. His sister. His daughter. Bring them here now, it is… a matter of dishonour." The old goblin hobbled back to his chair, and eased himself back into it. He looked icily at Ribshaker. The goblin was trembling in his seat.

"You know the rules, Ribshaker. The one who was affected by your misdeeds must claim the ownership of one member of your family. After mating with them. I have decided that Mr. Potter was maligned more than the entirety of Gringotts, as some small mercy to your family. I allowed you this place of trust due to your grandmother's last wishes- I knew you were not the best, but I saved you from a life of the slave at the Forges. This is how you repay me. So, this is how it will go. Mr. Potter will test each of them, and then select his preference. The other two will then be sent to work at the Forge. You will be sent with them. If they choose to kill you, so be it. The stain on your family will go no further." Harry was shocked at the justice being done before him. He didn't want anyone to be slaves! No one deserved that existence- except maybe several of the Death Eaters.

"Now, hold on! Have you asked me what I want? Huh? NO! I don't want to shag some random goblins- I've got more refined tastes, thanks! And slavery is wrong! I thought that as a so-called 'Lesser-Race' you'd be against it! You enslave your own people! You may think it 'just' but it's not! Women are as much an equal as any man, and your treatment of your women suggests that you really are barbaric! All I want is Dumbledore to be punished- he forced Ribshaker to do this- did you ask how? Did he threaten to pass new legislation, or something else? Knowing Dumbledore, we can't tell. Ragnok, you astound me in your ignorance! Get all of the details, and then pass judgment. Personally, I wonder at the speed with which he gave the answers. If you wouldn't mind, I would look into his mind and see his memories of fixing the records. Dumbledore could have adapted his memories, don't forget!" Harry stood with his back ramrod straight, still in front of the door. His arms crossed, his eyes blazing. The green irises shone in righteous anger. The muscles on Harry's arms stood out in tension as he held himself back. Having been treated as a slave by his relatives for so many years, he chafed at seeing other put through the same treatment. He could understand that some people deserved it- but as a punishment to the family of the perpetrator? No. Harry wouldn't stand for that. He stalked forwards.

Grabbing the chair Ribshaker still sat on, Harry whipped it around to face him. Gripping each armrest, Harry leant over the small goblin. He stared deep into the creature's mind, looking for his secrets.

"Legilimens!"

Well, that is the loving close I give you for the bonus chapter. Have fun in the next week!

HPatBK

SaHFF

Inspirational Music of the Week: Walk Away by The Script

Film of the Week: Treasure Planet

Book of the Week: Necropolis by Dan Abnett