Freak of Nature
I don't own Harry Potter, nor do I make any money off of this work, period.
AN: Well, posted a chapter last night, and this one should be posted the evening after, so I hope people enjoy. I'm going to keep up a regular pace on writing these if I can, but you have to understand that I work a ton, so time is precious and my wife comes first before writing and reading. Sacrilege to some, I know, but that's how "I roll" to use the lingo of my surroundings in California. Thanks for all those who left reviews, the detailed and the short.
AN2: A response to some review's I've received (I try and respond individually to every person who leaves a review*). I have to honestly state that the Harry at the beginning of this book greatly disturbed me to write, but I thought it was more fitting based on the state of his upbringing. I've always thought that Tom Riddle's reaction to abuse was more realistic than the JK Harry Potter reaction of "why can't we all just get along?" Not to say that every abused adolescent should become a sociopath, but based on my experience with assisting with psych care and children's homes, abused children often show a disconnect with how "polite society" is supposed to act. I won't say a lot more as I hate standing on soap boxes, but if a child was raised like an animal then I think they would act like an animal until they were taught or experienced otherwise; hence the Harry in this story. When I said "Dark Harry" in the summary of this story, I really meant "Dark" Harry, not grey, not cloudy, but DARK. He will remain decidedly dark until he can be tempered by good experiences, but I never expect him to suddenly become the bastion of the views of the "Light," nor will he ever drift past "grey." Yes he's a hero, but he's more the anti-hero/hero type. Anyway, that's my two cents and on with the story!
[parsel]
/creepy crawly critters/
{Primal Beast Language}
Chapter 8: England! Home, Ptttt!
When it's three o'clock in New York, it's still 1938 in London. ~ Bette Midler
The wizarding world was decidedly behind the times when it came to everyday life and a view of the world. This makes sense when you figure out that most wizards live a longer time than muggles/mundane humans. The disparity in beliefs by different age groups is often vast in the Muggle world. Muggles commonly age twenty years and don't understand the latest generation, so it is no surprise that wizards who often live greater than 100 years are very out of date on the social and political niceties of the modern day. So it was that when Mutwa and Harry traveled to the wizarding enclave of Cape Town South Africa in 1991, they entered apartheid conditions, where anybody not Afrikaans or "White" was treated as a second class citizen at best.
The Boers, or Dutch settlers, who had been among the first Europeans to settle the Cape of South Africa believed that God had christened them the rulers over the indigenous peoples of their new home. In a battle that saw nary the loss of a white settler, but allowed them to slaughter thousands of the black indigenous Africans, they believed in a sort of manifest destiny and blessing to rule the land. The wizards who had come with them, some of them who were only second or third generation from the original colonists, still held this belief. Mutwa and Harry were not amused…
Upon apparating into the Goochelkunst, "Magic", District of Cape Town, Harry and Mutwa were immediately spat at and jibed by a passing white father and his son, dressed in white, red and blue robes that seemed to be patterned after the Union Jack flag.
*Pttttt* The father spat at Mutwa, "Go back to the bush you spear chucker! You're not allowed or wanted here!" The man said with an ugly sneer as he launched a globule of snot and spit to splatter on Mutwa's foot.
Mutwa glared down at the shorter and decidedly pudgy bald man. Quickly raising his hand at the elbow and making a thrusting and grabbing gesture, a snaky root burst out of the cobblestone street under the offending man's robes. Just as the wrist thick vine punched the man in the family jewels, Mutwa clenched his fist and yanked his hand down, as if throwing it to the ground. The vine, imitating Mutwa's gesture, ripped through the disgusting bigot's underclothes and took a tight thorny grip around the man's "wee-willy," only to pull said man back into the ground by its thorny grip on the bigot's "man bits."
SPLAT! The bigot was thrust hard into the solid cobblestone street, anchored to the ground by the thorns purchase on his "bait and tackle." Only the sound of a groan could be heard from the bigot as it appeared that his nose had been broken during the stunning blow.
"Hey! You can't do that Jou bliksem!" The son yelled, pulling out his wand to curse Mutwa and Harry. Twisting his wand the son yelled, "Crusiiiiii-eeeeeeeeeeEEEEEE!"
What Harry recognized as the torture curse was interrupted as Harry glared at the boy and a bolt of lightning flashed out of the clear blue sky, hitting the boy in the ass and flinging him over the heads of Mutwa and Harry… only to impact the wall behind the apparation point with a decidedly dull thud and a release of brown and yellow bodily fluids. The boy hit the ground and twitched from the electrical discharge that was slowly dissipating from his body. He would probably live, but lightning burns from the inside out, so he would have a reminder of the lesson that Harry taught him.
Grimly looking at the two bigots, Mutwa turned to Harry and stated, "Do not become like dem cub. Remember da lesson about da species, ya learned with the monkeys, learn from dis also." Harry nodded back with a mirrored grim look.
Stepping over the figures on the ground, Mutwa and Harry walked out into the crowd that wandered the alley. The Goochelkunst District had a smattering of different feels to it, just as South Africa and Cape Town had been a melting pot of colonizing powers. Tea shops and robe shops, apothecaries, broom and magic carpet shops were all crammed together with meat pie stands and sausage and chilled wine merchants,tastes of India were mixed throughout the common European fare. A shop of Magical animals saw Harry giving it a glare as he passed, seeing all of the animals in their cages, and the apothecary filled with slaughtered animal bits would have burned down if Harry's look could have killed. The people of the street were a mix, some in bush gear, some with animal skins as the few black African's walked the streets, and yet other individuals traipsed about in more "refined" robes as proper colonial foreign nationals were oft to do.
Walking past all of this, Harry and Mutwa prowled towards the branch of Gringotts at the end of the block, Mutwa making small passing comments to Harry.
"First boy, we will need ta get ya some money and den an outfit. Ya loincloth won't do for ya in Britian, ya will need to blend in. Remember, da path of the hunter is to stalk his prey, and ya would stand out like an elephant in da room if ya didn't change ya look." Mutwa explained.
"Alright Mutwa, I've never really done any shopping before as my relatives didn't think I needed anything like that, so you will have to show me what to do. As for money, what do they use here?" Harry questioned.
"It is da Galleon, da Sickle and da Knut. Der are 17 Sickles in a Galleon, 29 Knuts in a Sickle, or 493 Knuts in a Galleon. Da wizards don't make much logical sense, but ya will get used to it." Mutwa explained with a smirk, Harry chuckled along with him in agreement as a women walked by with a stuffed vulture on her head.
"Listen closely cub," Mutwa said, pulling the conversation back to their original goal of proceeding to Gringotts, "Da goblins are not human, so don't treat dem like humans. Dey know honor, but some of dem are also thieves, only trust dem as much as you can make dem. Dey honor the warrior spirit, and if dey threaten you, stick up for ya self, but also don't insult dem without reason. Ya hear me cub?" Mutwa said, focusing ahead as they reached the steps of the bank. Harry silently nodded in agreement.
The cobbles of the street seemed to meet giant quartz blocks that had been hardened by magic and formed the peach colored goblin bank. The building was etched with volcanic rock, native to the area, and seemed to almost emerge out of the cobblestones of the magic district. Entering through the doors, the two ignored the warning to thieves above the threshold and proceeded between the two goblin guards at the door. The two witchdoctors prowled into the building, the goblin guard's twitching as the gait of the two "wizards" screamed predator to their goblin instincts. Mutwa and Harry proceeded across the hard stone tiled floor and across the large, yet not huge, entry chamber of the bank.
Proceeding towards a teller's booth who was weighing gems and examining them under a jeweler's glass while at the same time polishing gold bars with jewelers rouge. Harry let Mutwa do the talking and decided to learn from example.
"Goblin, we need yer services." Mutwa said politely in his deep bass voice.
"Go away wizard! Can't ya see I'm busy?" The goblin said without actually looking up from his work, "Go to one of the other tellers and I'm sure they can get you to your vault."
Undaunted by the goblin's rude nature, Mutwa merely lifted the huge uncut diamond out of his belt pouch and dropped it on one of the sides of the scale the goblin was using, causing the other side to shoot into the air; spilling gems, weights and galleons across the goblin's desk.
Sputtering, the goblin turned to look up at Mutwa and curse him out, only to be caught speechless by the sight of the giant diamond sitting on his gem scale.
"Ahem, perhaps I was a bit hasty. What are you trying to do with this gem?" The goblin said, greed clearly shining through his eyes as he examined probably the largest diamond he had ever seen.
Mutwa clearly stated, unfazed by the goblin's actions or demeanor, "We wish to sell it for galleons so da boy can make some purchases."
"I'm sure we can give you a few galleons for this small gem," The goblin stated with a closed mouth smile, clearly seeing Mutwa and Harry as some back-country bumpkins who he could cheat
Harry and Mutwa smiled back at the Goblin, but with full sharp teeth clearly gleaming from their faces. Harry gleamed his Cheshire cat smile that threatened to touch his ears. It was then that the Goblin knew that he could be in very big trouble.
"You wouldn't be trying to cheat us would you?" Harry asked with a very polite voice that didn't meet his eyes or show in his smile.
"Ya don't know who I am or what I can do Goblin." Mutwa stated, a predatory gleam shining through his look, "I come to ya with honorable intent, how do you choose to answer?" Mutwa said, as the fingernails on his hands by his side started to lengthen and grow sharp. The eyes of the goblin guards in the room swung to focus on Harry and Mutwa, they shifted their halberds and spears and questioned whether it was worth it to get involved or let the Goblin who had obviously insulted the two men be torn apart. Instincts about the two warred with their job as they deliberated in their minds what to do.
The choice of interfering or not was taken out of their hands when the goblin raised both of his hand in defeat with a decided "gulp" and an apology, "No, I'm terribly sorry, I didn't know who you were. Please forgive me as I'm so used to dealing with those bigots who normally come in here and demand my attention no matter what I am trying to do." The goblin stated, head hunching down, shoulders slouched and eyes averted as one predator would do to another larger predator or alpha of a pack. The goblins were instinctual beings, leading a warlike and hierarchical society that had greater semblance to an extended pack than to human societies. The Goblin bank teller realized that these were not your every day wizards that were before him, but were decidedly predatory beings that were higher on the food chain than he was. The Goblin thought to himself, sure the guards may get to his desk to fight the two beings, but he would most likely be food by then. After all, all goblins knew that the vanquished were eaten, it was only the stupid wizards and humans that wasted a good kill.
"Good" Mutwa clearly said, immediately seeming to melt back into a purely human form without any distinctive characteristics. The smiles melted off of both Harry and Mutwa's faces as they stonily faced the goblin.
With a slight sigh of relief, the Goblin teller immediately began to add weights to the other side of the scale, efficiently going about the business of appraising the uncut stone. The goblin guards around the room relaxed and returned their scanning about the room as the tension at the teller's booth eased substantially.
The Goblin teller marked down a few calculations, and then looked up at the two men before him. "Gentlemen, and I only say that because I don't know how to refer to you," the Goblin stated, "As the chief jewel appraiser for Gringotts South Africa and the magical company of De Beers, I am ready to offer you 40,000,000 Galleons or 200,000,000 pounds. Please understand, I am not trying to cheat you, the largest diamond to date is valued at slightly more than what I am offering and we need to make some sort of a profit. Do we have a deal?" The goblin questioned honestly.
Mutwa and Harry looked at each other for a second. Mutwa's left eyebrow raised slightly, and Harry twitched his head to the left ever so briefly, and then Harry nudged his head as if he was referencing leaving through the door of the bank. Mutwa silently nodded and turned back to the goblin.
"For forty million Galleons, a tailor, and a portkey to Gringotts Great Britian, then yes." Mutwa said with a stone still face, not twitching a muscle as to give away any of his inner thoughts. Harry in turn focused back on the Goblin teller.
"Hem, you do understand that international portkeys are supposed to be controlled by the ministry and could be illegal, correct?" the Goblin hedged in reply.
Mutwa merely smiled without showing any teeth.
"Excellent!" The Goblin teller exclaimed, "Profit and I get to poke those bigoted wizards in the eye! A wonderful day! The tailor will be called and will meet you in the private room that I will guide you too." The Goblin explained while reaching under his desk where a purse held the correct amount of Galleons, magically shrunk so that it could actually be carried. "Here is your money, and let me guide you to where the tailor is waiting." The Goblin teller stated, handing the pouch across the counter to where Harry grabbed it, then leading the two men behind his booth and back to a private meeting room where a tailor had already set up his mirror, clothe samples, and equipment. "After you have finished getting your clothing made, you can see me at the booth for your portkey which will take you to our British brethren in London." The Goblin explained, and then left Harry and Mutwa in the care of the tailor.
The tailoring went quickly. Wanting to blend in with the upper echelons of power in Great Britain, yet not stand out too much from the every day crowd, Mutwa and the tailor guided Harry to dress in functional but well made clothing; though the tailor did have a rather more "flamboyant" view of the clothing than Mutwa or Harry did. Charcoal grey dragon-hide pants, harvested from deceased dragons in the catacombs of Gringotts, were topped by a black acromantula silk shirt and a long flowing black cape of the same material, all without any sort of adornment. The outfit was finished off by a simple belt and boots made of the same dragon-hide material, but dyed black by the tailor. Harry's already short haircut, given to him by Scorpius Black, made Harry appear to be just another young Caucasian wizard; all be it one with a bit of money to his name and a musculature that showed none of the baby fat that a wizard his actual age would show. Little did Harry know, but he cut the perfect picture of what the "Famous Boy-Who-Lived" was supposed to look like as portrayed in all of the "adventure" books that were circulating around the wizarding world. Sun bronzed, buffed, with flashing hard green eyes, his human aspects appeared to be the dream for every subscriber to witch-weekly.
"How do I look?" Harry questioned Mutwa as he turned this way and that to look at his reflection in the mirror.
"Like a wizard." Mutwa said in his deep voice with a small smile.
Growling slightly and frowning at Mutwa, Harry turned around to face his mentor, seeing the small smile on the witchdoctor's face and knowing that Mutwa was teasing him in that slight way of his.
"Well, that should do it, the bill is 500 galleons for the whole ensemble." The tailor said with a little bounce and an emphasis on the "s" sounds in his statement. Harry paid the man and then focused back on Mutwa.
Mutwa nudged his head in the direction of the door, and Harry followed his mentor out the door and back to the entry of the bank and the Goblin Teller's booth.
Taking the portkey from the Goblin, who handed Harry a piece of paper with the activation word on it, Harry focused on his mentor to see if he had any parting words.
Looking down at Harry from his great height, Mutwa didn't leave Harry waiting, "Ya have done well cub, ya have grown up and now are ready to start da journey dat da GoGo has set for ya. Ya are no longer a cub, ya are a full member of da pack now, and it is time for ya to go out and start ya own pack, lead ya own life, guide ya own pack members." Mutwa explained. A breeze seemed to blow through the doors of the bank, issuing in the smells of the veldt and the dry hot breeze of the grasses of the savannas. Mutwa's head bent to the side, and Harry thought he almost heard a voice issuing in on the wind.
"Dat was da GoGo Harry. She said for me to do something for ya. Give me ya hand in greeting." Mutwa explained.
With that, Harry and Mutwa grasped forearms as if performing a handshake from olden days. Yet as they gripped each other's arms, Mutwa did something with his nails and Harry felt a stab, and then a searing sensation as a brief sharp pain transferred to his forearm. Harry was briefly covered in an aura of white light, which then absorbed into him and disappeared. Releasing their clasped hands, Harry turned over his right arm and saw on his forearm the symbol of a cat's paw, marked in black with claw marks that seemed to be drawing blood but were in fact some sort of tattoo or brand, fully healed.
Looking up at Mutwa in a bit of shock, Harry asked, "What is this?"
To which Mutwa replied with a smile, "It's ya emancipation Harry. Ya are now an adult in the eyes of da GoGo, and as Magic is part of da GoGo, da magical world will see ya as an adult. Take care, because ya will be treated as an adult, both da good and da bad." Mutwa said, smiling proudly down at his apprentice. "Ya know what ya need to know ta be da witchdoctor, ya know da knowledge. It will just take time for ya ta come into ya full power and experience to teach ya how to fully commune with da GoGo." The witchdoctor explained. "Now it is time for ya to go Harry, good luck, and may da GoGo bless ya." Mutwa said, as he took a step back from Harry.
Harry was strangely choked up at Mutwa's statement. He couldn't really remember what it felt like to hug or want to hug another being, let alone have some positive physical connection, but for some strange reason he felt like he wanted to hug Mutwa for his blessing and for all his training. But still, he didn't know what to do, he hadn't learned that lesson yet and it didn't seem like Mutwa was to be the guide for that side of his life as Harry had to go. Looking up at Mutwa, the man that had originally literally scared Harry out of a tree, the man who had trained him ruthlessly and shoved so much knowledge into Harry's head that he was physically hurting most of the time, but also the Man who had shared some sort of caring for Harry and had treated him as an equal. It was a lesson to ponder on for now, Harry thought.
Looking up at Mutwa, Harry gave him a simple, "Thank you Mutwa, for everything."
With that, Harry took a step back from Mutwa, and uttered the activation word for the portkey, "Begin."
Harry Potter disappeared in a swirl; he was on his way to the beginning of the next stage of his life.
Goblins are a voracious species, devouring the spoils of war, devouring their enemies, and devouring the economy in the pursuit of the profits they could acquire; whether through business or guile. A military society, the Goblins were ranked and given jobs based on their power, whether that be political, military, or monetary. The treaties with the wizards irked them. They had been defeated by the wizards in the last war, and just like the house elves (if to a lesser extent) were made to be subservient to the wizards in many ways. This subservience was like hot pokers shoved under the cuticles of their claws, as the goblins were all about dominance, and hated being locked into the position that they were. Thus it was that the goblins stole from the wizards as much as they could. Yes the Goblins left the money in the wizard's vault, but wherever they could, they made sure to tax or levy a hell of a lot of fees on the wizards so that they could get their comeuppance some way or another. Management of the banks was often handled by the most powerful Clans of the goblins, those that could outfight and devour the other goblins, thus giving the controlling Clan the best chance of directly levying fines against Wizards and "sticking it to the Man" in the only real method available.
The average wizard didn't really have an idea of how the goblins worked and figured that the fines, fees, and surcharges were just a normal way of doing business. However some goblins took an even a more direct approach in their quest for greed and decided to actual embezzle money from their client accounts; especially the accounts that didn't have an "active" approach to monitoring what the balance was. Such was the inevitable showdown between the newly emancipated Harry Potter, known Heir to the House of Potter and of the line of the House of Black, and Gutwrot, the current Goblin administrator to Harry's account and a "friend" of self appointed Magical Guardian Albus Dumbledore.
As Harry Potter spun into the foyer of the Gringotts London Branch, he didn't understand the fine balance of power that existed among the London goblin Clans. The Firewater Clan, ruled by director Ragnok was in a constant struggle for absolute control of the bank branch with the Blackrock Clan, currently run by Gutwrot. Whereas Ragnok was in control of most of the older accounts and was of greater military might and strength than Gutwrot, the machinations of Albus Dumbledore, and surprisingly Lucius Malfoy, had put Gutwrot in control of the Potter, Black, and Malfoy fortunes; thus creating a tie in the balance of power within the bank as Gutwrot held control of the most lucrative accounts in the wizarding world.
Spinning to land on the balls of his feet, Harry's portkey disguised his "illegal" international arrival by landing him in the Bank's floo entrance. Exiting the fireplace, Harry pulled up the hood of his black silk cloak and proceeded to an open bank teller.
"I'd like to speak to the holder of my accounts please." Harry said, remembering Mutwa's lesson on dealing with Goblins, don't treat them like Humans, don't back down, and don't insult them if you don't have to.
"Hmmmph," the goblin said, "Do you have your key?" The short figure asked, peering down from the Goblin's stool.
"No," Harry replied, "Is that a problem?" He asked, keeping patient.
"Bloody wizards," the goblin mumbled in a voice that would have been unheard except for Harry's extreme hearing "Give me your hand human and we will see if we have any accounts for you and who will be managing them." Picking up a small dagger the goblin gestured for Harry's hand, who following directions, extended his hand palm up.
Making a small cut on the tip of Harry's finger, which the goblin noted healed quicker than the healing spells on the knife were supposed to do so, the goblin wiped a bit of the blood on a stone on his desk and then read the piece of paper that popped into view before the diminutive creature.
The goblin's eyes went large for a moment, and then its complexion went grayish black as the goblin's face flushed with the black blood that the goblins carried in their veins. Mumbling an excuse, the goblin quickly hurried to a guard behind the booth and got into an argument that started to take on some degree of urgency and volume; all spoken in Gobbledegook. Several tellers around the guard and the Goblin who had been helping Harry looked stunned by the conversation, and one teller ran off into the bowels of the bank while the arguing goblin teller's back was turned.
Waving for Harry to follow, the Goblin guard issued Harry to follow him into the labyrinth of office halls that spanned the upper floors of the Goblin bank. Walking through the stone and metal hallways, Harry was finally lead to a pair of giant black stone doors, with knobbed black-rock handles that jutted from the door. Two goblin guards in black armor opened the door and Harry walked in to the surprisingly messy office.
Piles of parchment lay everywhere, completely dwarfing Harry let alone a goblin. Strewn piles of collapsed documents, thrown about scrolls, stacks of documents and books literally hid the walls of the office that may have been opulent at one time but now was more reminiscent of a pigsty playing the part of an accountant's office. Half eaten and rotted food sat on plates which took up their places on chairs, and behind the desk was a sleeping goblin wearing a black business suit stained by food juices; the shoulder of the sleeping goblin looked to be connected to his open mouth by a long streamer of drool as the goblin slept fitfully. One of the guards walked over behind the desk and then whispered in the sleeping goblin's ear, startling the sleeping figure awake.
"What! What? I thought I said I wasn't to be disturbed unless a senior client came in?" The goblin groused to the guard.
"You did Clan-chief, but a senior client has come in." The guard stated, pointing his hand across the messy office and towards the cloak covered figure of Harry.
"Oh, right then, well what do you want wizard?" The goblin stated.
Harry, trying to stay polite in front of such hostility answered, "I am Harry Potter, and I would like to get the full balances of my accounts and talk to the manager of my holdings." With that said, Harry removed his hood, showing his signature black hair and somewhat faded but still distinct lightning-bolt scar.
Gutwrot was agog, he was stunned, Dumbledore had promised him that he would have complete control of the Potter accounts and that the Potter heir would not have knowledge of any vault besides his trust account. Yet here was the Potter boy asking to see his full account balance, a request that had to be honored according to the treaties. Sweating a bit, Gutwrot answered, "I am Gutwrot, leader of the Blackrock Clan and the manager of your holdings. As for your account, Boy, you are not allowed to see them due to the fact that you are a minor! Get your magical guardian to request a balance if you want one." The goblin said nastily, hoping to intimidate Harry and waving him to leave his office.
"Oh, is that how it is going to be," Harry thought to himself. Not put off in the least bit, Harry took a step further into the office, gliding a bit closer and giving the two guards a bit of a hint that something was not normal about this wizarding child.
"I am trying to be polite, but I am not a minor and if you are my manager than I want to know my account balance." Harry said, turning over arm and baring his forearm so that Gutwrot and the two guards could see the mark of GoGo on his arm and that he was magically emancipated.
Absolutely stunned, Gutwrot tried to bluff and stutter his way out of trouble, if the Potter boy saw the balances of the Potter accounts then he would know that Gutwrot had been subsidizing the Blackrock Clan's treasury with stolen money. "Now see here boy, I don't really care if you are the Potter heir, Albus Dumbledore gave me control of your accounts and told me that I had complete control of your accounts, and there is nothing you can do about it! Guards take this child out of here!" Gutwrot stated, signaling the two guards to bracket Harry and start in towards him.
Harry was pissed off at his treatment by the Goblin, but the real steamer was when Gutwrot mentioned Albus Dumbledore and another manipulation by the old man who had sentenced him to hell that was the Dursleys house. If nothing else, that one statement sealed Gutwrot's fate as food.
The only warning that the goblins had that Harry was not going to leave peacefully was when Harry's green eyes seemed to flash and turn into cat slits, however this didn't help the guards as he was staring at Gutwrot. As the two guards approached Harry's sides, His hands whipped out spearing straight into the throats of the guards to Harry's right and left, and then almost quicker than the eye could see returning to his sides. The only sign that Harry had done anything was that both guards stopped, gurgled, and then collapsed to the floor, black blood pouring onto the scrolls and papers littering Gutwrot's floor. Before Harry could leap over the table at Gutwrot, the doors to the office blasted open.
BOOM! The two black doors flew open and a troop of goblins marched-in in full armor. "Halt! What is going on here?" The lead goblin demanded, wearing a tiny blood and burgundy red suit. Seeing the two dying goblins and the irate young man and startled goblin he turned to focus on Gutwrot.
Gutwrot answered, "This boy came into my office threatened me and killed my guards!" He said with a snarl.
"Liar!" Harry snarled, starting to walk forward but stopping as the goblin guards clenched their weapons tighter. Taking a deep breath he focused on the new Goblin who was wearing the red suit, "This waste of life is a liar! I am Harry Potter and I simply asked for my full account balances when he insulted me and put his guards after me to throw me out. On top of that, if what he told me is true, and if what my parents spirits told me is true, then this piece of shite is a thief!"
This stunned the new goblins. As creatures of honor, lies and insults were taken very seriously, not to mention thievery; well, getting caught as a thief was serious, not necessarily being a thief.
Gutwrot started to complain but was immediately silenced by a wave of the red clad goblin's hand. "Mr. Potter, this is a very serious complaint. As the Director of Gringotts, I, Director Ragnok, Clan Chief of the Firewater Clan asks if you are challenging Gutwrot's statement as a lie and his ability to manage your accounts?"
"You bloody better believe I mean it, this liar has no purpose being my bank manager!" Harry growled in answer to Ragnok, his eyes glowing an eerie green.
Ragnok looked grim, he understood the deeper ramifications of this situation. Turning to Gutwrot he stated, "The challenge has been cast, how do you answer and how will it be considered?"
Gutwrot's eyes gleamed, here was an opportunity that he couldn't pass up. He knew that since Harry had challenged him under goblin law that the loser would be devoured by the winner, that meant that any of Harry's wealth would immediately be Gutwrot's if/when he beat the child. "The actions against the guards must have been a fluke," Gutwrot thought to himself, "no wizarding child could stand up to a battle tested Goblin warrior." A smirk growing on his face for all to see.
"I accept the challenge, and the contest shall be in physical combat to the death!" Gutwrot stated, getting the chance to gut a wizard was every goblin's dream; yet seldom were they given the chance.
"You heard the goblin, the challenge has been made and accepted." Ragnok stated, fearing what would happen if the Blackrock Clan gained all of the wealth from the Potter accounts, "Harry, this will be a physical battle only, you may use any weapons you have, but no casting magic will be allowed, is that understood?" Harry glared at the goblins and nodded. The guards with Ragnok parted down the hallway out of the office, and Harry Gutwrot and Ragnok were escorted down to the challenge grounds in the deepest parts of the goblin caverns.
The challenge grounds cavern was high domed with natural rock formations jutting from the ceiling and a sandy battle field in the middle. The entire place was made of mud-brown stone and particle, with stone stands lining each wall. Seating was divided by Clan with the Firewater Clan on one side and the Blackrock Clan on the opposite wall, the sandy fighting grounds stretched a good two hundred square feet between the two stands. Both of the wall of stands were full of thousands of goblins from the rival Clans jeering at the other stands. The whole place was lit by giant flaming vats of pitch that heated the room to a sweat inducing temperature and issued up a black smoke that seemed to be absorbed by the stone of the ceiling, not obstructing the view of the spectators.
The rumor of the battle must have spread quickly because the sight of the full stands and the read battle grounds are that greeted Harry as he and the goblins from Gutwrot's office reached the challenge grounds . Upon entering the chamber both sides of the stands went quiet, only for the Blackrock Clan stands to erupt in cheering and an audible groan was heard from the Firewater Clan. All of the goblins eyes were focused on the two challengers, and there wasn't a single goblin in either stands that thought Harry had a chance against Clan Chief Gutwrot.
Gutwrot immediately began to strut about and riled his Clan to make greater noise in the light of his future "victory." He marched over to his Clan and was immediately helped to divest his clothes and put on his armor.
Harry in turn walked over toward the base of the Firewater Clan and to Ragnok's seat, where he simply removed his boots and his black cloak; leaving him barefoot and clad in a black silk shirt and dragon hide pants. "Here, would you mind watching this for me while I deal with the thief?" Harry asked Ragnok politely, causing Ragnok to silently take the cloak with wide eyes. Looking at Harry, he could see that the human child was muscular, but since he had no weapons on hand, nor armor, there really was no hope for the boy. At least the cloak was nice and Ragnok thought he might be able to get some money for it after the battle. He also made a mental note that they would have to keep the death of the "Boy-Who-Lived" a secret from the wizarding world; but since the wizarding world never really knew where Dumbledore had stashed the lad, then there shouldn't really be a problem.
Walking out onto the sand, Harry shook out his limbs and cracked his neck to the left, and then the right, and waited for Gutwrot to stop grand-standing.
Turning to face Harry, Gutwrot wore the armor of the Blackrock Clan Chiefs. Made from magical Ebony, the obsidian colored metal after which the muggles had named the black wood, the armor seemed to swallow the light. Gutwrot also went barefoot, yet wore greaves that covered the tops of his feet, a breastplate, helmet, and shoulder pads, leaving both arms free to wield his Goblin silver battle-axe and his clawed toes poking out from under his greaves.
Sauntering towards Harry, Gutwrot taunted, loud enough for the goblins in the stands to hear, "You might as well stand there boy, you can't hurt me with this armor on, you can't use your your wizard magic in here as all non-Gringotts magic is blocked at this moment, and I have the only weapons here. " The goblin said with an evil smile, "I'll make it fast, and start the dining, would hate to leave all of that lovely gold sitting around for much longer!" Gutwrot cackled menacingly as he walked up towards the unmoving boy.
Rearing back over his shoulder, Gutwrot figured he would take advantage of the unmoving target, and then whipped his axe around his body; attempting to bisect Harry at the middle… Only to completely miss and spin in a circle from the missed blow.
Stumbling back a step at the weight of the blow that missed, Gutwrot was struck by the silence as he turned around to look at Harry.
There Harry was, bent at the knees but otherwise completely parallel to the ground, his toes somehow digging into the floor of the battle ground. Then, as if hinging like a trap door opening into a room, Harry stood straight up at the knees and smiled a toothy grin at Gutwrot. "That all you got?" Harry jibed.
Infuriated, Gutwrot swung at Harry! Then swung again! Over and over, first from the left, and then from the right, then for Harry's leg's, then for Harry's middle, then trying to cut him in half from his head to his groin Gutwrot took the axe in a huge overhand swing and tried to bisect Harry.
Slithering out of the way like a snake, Harry dodged, and dodged, Jumped only as high as he needed to, only to land and then slither his middle section out of the way of the blow as if he had no ribcage and gravity had no effect on him. Then to add insult to injury, Harry merely stepped back to avoid Gutwrot's blow that attempted to cleave him in two, palm slapping Gutwrot on the forehead as the Goblin again missed and ended up burying the blade of his axe in the floor of the arena.
The slap held surprising strength that knocked Gutwrot's head back and caused him to stumble a couple feet backwards, leaving the axe still imbedded in the floor. Shaking his head to clear the imaginary hippogriffs that seemed to be circling in his vision, he looked up just in time for Harry to tell him, "My Turn." Before seeing Harry pull back his fist and swing it in a haymaker towards Gutwrot's face.
POOOOWWW!
Harry's blow picked Gutwrot clear up off his feet and sent him flying for a good fifty feet before he landed and rolled and skipped across the ground all the way back to the Blackrock stands. The blow had been so hard that the magical bindings on the ebony armor had literally disintegrated, blasted apart by the force Harry put into the single punch. Fortunately for Gutwrot, the armor had mostly stayed with his body and had taken most of the blow as the force of the blow to the back-plate had creased the magically strengthened goblin armor where it had impacted against the stands and squashed an unlucky Blackrock goblin.
Now it was the Firewater Clan who was screaming for blood and the Blackrocks who were crying foul. Pushing the mangled helmet off and clearing the remnants of the ancient armor, Gutwrot shook his head to clear the fuzz between his ears and attempted to focus on the other side of the battle field where the black blurry shape that was Harry Potter began to come back into focus.
Harry was methodically unbuttoning his shirt, as he really didn't want to damage it in what was about to happen. Turning to face a sharp toothed smiling Ragnok, Harry asked, "Would you mind holding this also, I'll be back in a moment." Only to receive a giant grin in return from Ragnok who saw the luck of his Clan turning with the tide of the battle. Turning from Ragnok, bare-chested and absolutely chiseled with muscle, Harry Potter started to slowly prowl across the sandy field towards Gutwrot.
"What? What are you?" Gutwrot stuttered out while Harry was still more than halfway across the field; all the time attempting to get legs to stop shaking and his ears to stop ringing.
"Witchdoctor." Was the only reply Harry said, loud enough for everybody to hear and giving Gutwrot only time enough for his eyes to get big before Harry seemed to disappear from where he had stood.
Now, it was Harry's turn, and he was about to begin his journey of revenge on all those who had manipulated or taken advantage of him. All that was unnatural and did not belong fit into his category of what needed to be destroyed, and those who harmed him were foremost on that list.
Disappearing from the middle of the field, Harry traveled the distance to Gutwrot faster than the eye could follow, grabbed Gutwrot by the throat, pulled him up into the air and over his shoulder, and then one handed body-slammed Gutwrot into the ground behind him so that Gutwrot's flailing limbs and torso bounced fifteen feet back into the air.
*Thump!*" AAAAAAAAHHHHH!" were the sounds that Gutwrot made as his breath was forced out of his body and no doubt several ribs were broken by the pounding and the subsequent launching into the air.
Harry hadn't been taught any real fighting style besides the instinctual style of the giant cat, but he did remember peaking out of his locked cupboard and watching his cousin Dudley playing a fighting game about a tournament of some sort.
Leaping up into the air at great speed, fist leading, Harry impacted his fist with the now falling chin of Gutwrot, launching said goblin head first into the ceiling some three hundred feet above the cavern floor.
Landing back on the balls of his feet and stopping to stand up straight, the entire audience was silenced in awe as they watched the trajectory of Gutwrot's body. A sympathetic "OOOOOHHHHFFFF" was heard from the crowd as Gutwrot first impacted with the hard stone roof, and then plummet to the ground where he stopped with a shuddering *Thump* and didn't move.
Harry, looked up at the silent Blackrocks, and then over at Ragnok, who simply said, "Finish it." Walking towards the goblin laying in the middle of the arena Harry could see the eyes moving widely, the mouth moving, but Gutwrot was apparently paralyzed from a broken neck and couldn't get the air to speak.
"This could have been done differently," Harry stated as he walked towards the downed goblin, "You could have helped me and I would have helped you and your people, but no, you had to go and lie to me. You had to go and steal from me! But most of all, YOU HAD TO GO AND WORK FOR ALBUS DUMBLEDORE AGAINST ME!" Harry yelled out in rage at the end.
Reaching down to the paralyzed Goblin, he grabbed Gutwrot by the throat and brought him up to his face. "There are only two types in this world, predators, and prey, and you are prey." Harry said, emphasizing his statement by placing his hand on the top of Gutwrot's head, digging in his claws, and pulling Gutwrot's head off of his body; spraying black blood into the air and over Harry's arm and torso.
The goblins in the audience were stunned by Harry's final actions, until suddenly the Firewater Clan started to hoot and yell and cheer Harry on. Only for Harry to hear the Blackrock's cry out from behind him "Cheater!" and "Foul!" as they poured out of the stands with daggers and axes, charging onto the field in an attempt to avenge their Clan head.
"Oh no you don't!" Harry stated as he whipped around and embraced the spirit of the Nundu, transforming into an adult sized Nundu the size of a house. Harry briefly noted the difference in size than he used to be and realized that the blessing and emancipation from Mutwa and the GoGo must have had some blessings attached to it.
The cries for revenge by the Blackrock Clan turned into screams of terror and agony as Harry in his Nundu form was suddenly in their midst.
Harry's jaws would bite between two to four goblins in half in a single chomp, claws the size of scythes split goblin bodies, decapitated or de-limbed the masses of Blackrocks like at atomic bomb in a feedlot; absolutely destroying everything in its path and turning the previously raging goblins into a smear of black blood that coated everything in the room. The shear speed, there was no animal in the world, magical or mundane, that could keep up with the speed of a raging Nundu.
Ragnok, who was about to cry out to stop the disgraceful actions of the Blackrock Clan, was absolutely stunned to silence by Harry's transformation and destruction of the rival goblin Clan. Fast calling his wits back to himself, He clapped his hands and mentally called upon the great wards of Gringotts to seal off the bloodshed from reaching him and the Firewater Clan. There was nothing he could do to save the Blackrocks as Ragnok watched stunned as the goblin created steel and blades were lucky enough to barely break the Nundu's skin, most often simply bouncing off the hardened hide that was stronger than anything he had seen before. The normal method of battle for the goblins was to hack and slash with numbers, reflecting any spells or diverting them with their magical weapons until they could get in amongst the wizards or enemies and slash them to bits. Sure the goblins had their own magic, they were great curse breakers and warders, but most of their magic was focused around tempering the earth, tools, or breaking into tombs; with the occasional curse or destructive spell on the side. But nothing could stop a Nundu the size of Harry! Harry was an absolute killing machine as he simply devoured the goblin Clan, it was like a saber-toothed tiger let loose in a room full of little white lab mice, the goblins had no where they could flee to and Harry was simply too fast and powerful to stop.
Finishing off the last of the Blackrock Clan, absolutely covered in black blood, Harry leapt towards Ragnok and the remaining goblin tribe, only to bounce off the ward that Ragnok had raised.
"Please Mr. Potter, be reasonable." Ragnok pleaded, something that nobody had seen happen between a goblin and a wizard in over a thousand years.
Harry's reply was to throw himself again at the ward wall. And then again, and again! The pounding on the ward wall shook the cavern walls and the ceiling that the ward had anchored itself to.
"Please! We weren't part of it! They were a separate Clan and we will respect your accounts and always treat you honestly!" Ragnok pleaded, as Harry swiped at the wall between him and the fearful goblin Clan, shaking the room with the power of his blows.
Harry took a step back and lowered back his ears, his baleful green eyes glowing as he HISSSSSSSSED in rage at what the goblins had put him through.
Slowly, pacing in a circle, while still looking at the goblins trapped behind the wall, Harry finally slowed down and then curled into a laying down position as if he didn't have a care in the world; an action that most cats find inherently easy to assume. Suddenly, without any real cause or reason, the image of the Nundu wavered and slowly shrank back into that of the young Mr. Potter.
Harry was seated on the ground, now clean of any blood but sitting on an absolutely mangled battlefield of blood and gore. Harry glared at Ragnok, and then he sighed, "So what now Ragnok, are we to be enemies?" Harry questioned.
Ragnok gulped, but didn't look away from Harry. One of the primary rules of nature is that you don't show predator's fear, they will only eat you for it. "No Harry," Ragnok answered, "We are not enemies. If anything, you have done me and my Clan a great service. You have won the challenge and it was only the deceit of the defeated that led to both Gutwrot's death and the eventual destruction of his Clan." Ragnok continued, becoming more settled now that Harry was sitting and didn't look like he was going to wipe out all of Goblin-kind.
"Ok, then we don't have a problem Ragnok." Harry said. "So now what?"
"Now, to the victor goes the spoils I guess. You get the possessions of all of the goblins you defeated. Normally you would get to eat them, but seeing as you've already done that…" Ragnok trailed off, pointing out over the field that appeared to be painted black. "And your claim to emancipation is acknowledged, you will be granted full access to your accounts, and when we go upstairs you can assume the lordship of House Potter and any other assets or positions you might have received. You will just need to pick a new account manager from the goblins alive, or decide if you want to remove your assets to another institute if you don't trust us." Ragnok continued, the last statement coming out with some dread as the loss of the Potter accounts would substantially injure the Gringotts London branch.
"Fine," Harry answered, standing up and walking towards Ragnok "We have a deal. You did an honest job of keeping my shirt, cloak and boots protected while I fought, so that's good enough for me to choose you as my account manager." Harry said with a shrug, coming up before Ragnok and waiting for the ward to fall.
Smiling a toothy smile, Ragnok was thrilled that the Potter fortunes would be kept in Gringotts and that it looked like he and his Clan would survive the earlier mistake of his cousin's Clan. "Excellent Mr. Potter!" Ragnok said as he clapped his hands to drop the ward. There was a second of edginess as the goblins around Ragnok waited to see if Harry would attack, but he showed them that he was a creature of his word and of honor and didn't do anything but reach for his shirt and boots.
The Firewater Clan quickly left the arena, some of them stopping to grab a leg, head, or an arm from a deceased goblin to munch on as they left; waste not want not the rule of nature went.
Ragnok stood silently while Harry clothed himself. Harry made himself presentable by buttoning up his shirt and boots, and flicked the gore out from under his nails. Then, using one of his clawed fingernails to pick a bit of gristle out from between his back jaws, Harry gave Ragnok a big smile as Ragnok had taken the moment to grab a bit of severed goblin flesh off of the top of Harry's shoe and eat it.
"This could be the beginning of a beautiful relationship Mr. Potter." Ragnok explained as the two of them headed for the exit of the cavern. "Not only do you give me complete control of the Gringotts London branch, but you also throw a feast for me and my kin!" He said with a high pitched goblin laugh, something that would make the average wizard cringe and run screaming.
Harry's smile and added laughter at the comment would also have caused the most fearless of men to wet them self, as his almost hyena type laugh echoed off the walls.
As the two left the challenge grounds, goblin and witchdoctor walking side by side, the battle grounds was left in silence. Covered in black blood, but mostly picked clean of edible body parts, the arena was plunged into darkness. As Ragnok and Harry Potter exited the room the burning fires extinguished themselves automatically, turning the room into the sterile darkness of a cave.
AN: Well? There you go, are you happy yet? ;-) Nope, didn't think so either. Next chapter should be finishing up with the Goblins, for now, and the shopping trip to the alleys, which should be fun! So if you liked it, if you thought something about it, please write a review! I always need inspiration, so more reviews equal more writing! Thanks!