Be Selfish
Chapter 16
"A Basilisk?" Antonin asked, nothing in his voice sounded incredulous or furious. The strain he was putting the chair through though, caused it to actually creak in the strain of Antonin's strength. The silence made it so that the 'squeaking' sound, if it could be termed that, was very loud in the room. The cavernous of it did not help matters.
Of course, he had entirely forgotten the basilisk venom on the list of injuries Harry had sustained. It was healed by phoenix tears, but if he recalled the date correctly, Harry was only twelve.
King Ragnarök did not even blink or protest at having little time at his question. A sixty-foot basilisk…he wanted to know where it was! One hadn't been seen in at least a century. There were so many potions that used basilisks' parts. The money though, it was a fortune all on its own. If it was Harry's legally, he would become one of their biggest clients' hands down. He'd have more than any other of their customers. He was suddenly so grateful for his curiosity in this case…and the fact they'd been more than courteous where it came to the young Lording. The power that boy had in his fingertips and he was still yet a boy.
Harry nodded completely indifferent – or seemingly so – to their reactions.
Antonin's eyes were darkening in a rage that he wanted to let loose, particularly at Dumbledore. Who he just knew would be behind Harry's interaction with a Basilisk. Although, he just didn't understand how, just where on earth had the boy had come across a basilisk? "Just where and when did you end up interacting with a Basilisk at the age of twelve?"
The goblin scribe inhaled sharply, but made no other sound. Continuing to write everything that was being said in the meeting. Doing it in short hand Gobbledegook. It would be translated to both Russian and English by the scribe before it was handed in.
The goblin king remained silent, watching the interaction in cold calculation. He suspected that Duke Dolohov would get answers far quicker than he. Although, not much of the basilisk would be of use, regretfully after such a long time. However, a twelve-year-old killing a basilisk was no small feat. The reverential undertone in the meeting was amplified. He was just…so much more than they'd realised.
It wasn't just their duty to help him now, no.
It was their honour.
Harry's forehead wrinkled in confusion, it wasn't a secret, so how on earth did people not know? Then again, Antonin had spent over a decade in Azkaban prison. It's not the best place for one's mental health. "Well, during my second year at Hogwarts people were being petrified. Although, looking back they were extremely lucky. There was always something in-between the basilisk and the wizard or witch. Whether it be a camera, a mirror or even a ghost."
Ragnarök arched a brow it's beady eyes gleaming again. He scribbled down yet more incriminating information on the old wizard Dumbledore. Oh, the goblin brethren in the UK absolutely abhorred the gentle 'dictator'. They'd rather a ruthless upfront one, that didn't pretend to be something he wasn't.
"Of course, a single glance from a basilisk is enough to kill." The goblin nodded, understanding the young but extremely powerful wizard. "Can you write the names of the Wixen who were petrified?" sliding over a piece of blank parchment, and a self-inking quill.
Harry nodded, "It wasn't long before I was hearing threats of people being ripped and torn and killed." He continued as he wrote down the names of the people who had been petrified and roughly when, starting of course, with Colin Creevy, his age and the time he'd spent petrified.
Antonin straightened his spine, a frown splaying across his face. There had been nothing in the newspapers, the Dark Lord didn't seem to know anything about this, nobody spoke of anything like a Basilisk killing people for Merlin's sake.
"Took me months upon months before I realized I wasn't hearing a person speak, but rather a basilisk, one that was roaming about Hogwarts through the pipes." Harry confessed sheepishly, "I wish it was the only threat that year." A half-hearted grumble.
"Meaning?" Ragnarök requested, exasperated, what else could be wrong or worse than a basilisk? He wasn't sure he wanted to know for Hecate's sake.
"I had a house-elf use a hovering charm to try to get me expelled from Hogwarts. When that failed, he thought barring me from Kings Cross Station would work, so I couldn't get through the barrier to the train. When that failed, he decided he'd sent a damn Bludger after me during a quidditch game. Broke my arm in multiple locations. As if that wasn't bad enough, Lockhart had been there, and he removed all the bones in my arm and hand." It had been very painful and frankly? Honestly the weirdest of experiences he had in his years.
"How peculiar," Antonin murmured, it was very strange behaviour for a House-elf. "It could only be doing the bidding of its Lord or Lady Master."
"No, it was trying to save me from his 'Evil and bad Master' turns out he belonged to the Malfoy's." Harry shook his head, a devious smirk unknowingly crossing his features when he thought on what he'd done. "The look on Malfoy's face when I managed to free Dobby is one, I'll always treasure." His green eyes were positively glowing with malevolent glee.
The goblin king, made a gesture with his index finger, demanding the goblin guard to come to him. Once he did so, he leaned over, and spoke in their native language, demanding that he push back his meetings. He wasn't going to miss this for anything. He was busy yes, but he wanted this meeting over and wanted to find out more about the basilisk too. Although if Potter kept deviating, he might end up shrieking in outrage, it felt dismissive and it wasn't a feeling he was used to.
Antonin barked out a laugh, that was something he'd need to see. "I'd pay to see that memory." He confessed, the Malfoy's of late were pathetic whiney brats. Lucius less so, but Draco was young still. He didn't see Harry whining to hell and back so perhaps there was no saving Draco.
"Do you have a pensive?" Harry asked.
"Just so happens I do," Antonin said amused, wondering if Lucius would ever live it down knowing his 'brethren' had seen him defeated by a twelve-year-old Gryffindor.
"Then I'll show you," he agreed, puffing up proudly, and Harry did have to admit it was one of his greatest accomplishments along with performing the Patronus Charm.
The goblin cleared his throat, it sounded guttural and wheezy. The sound that a human would make as it breathed it's last. He stared expectantly at the wizards, a slight impatient twitch the only give away that he was beginning to unravel at the seams.
"Okay, where was I?" Harry murmured, sounding genuinely lost.
"Hearing voices…" the goblin all but gritted out. He did lament with the two wizards, "It truly is a shame that such information wasn't shared, the basilisk would have made any wizard very wealthy indeed."
"How wealthy?" Harry perked up at that.
"A multibillionaire," Ragnarök explained, a disgruntled look on his face. If they'd helped, they could have ended up a share of that multibillions.
"I'm not sure why you're making that face…" Harry said utterly confused, honestly, goblins were the oddest.
"It has been four to five years now, Lord Potter, the carcass is likely almost fossilised." Ragnarök explained, exaggerating a lot when it came to that pronouncement. "The eyes, the skin, the venom are worth unprecedented amounts of money since it's been so long since one was known about."
"Truth, basilisk skin is highly sought after, it can stop even the killing curse. They're made into vests, there are only two in existence now, but nobody knows who has them. Nobody is stupid enough to brag about such items, it's worth more than anyone's fortune." Antonin explained, there was one in a museum, tightly controlled and lowered into an impenetrable fortress of a vault when it's not on display. It was on loan from an anonymous donor, which was expected, again, no names were safest.
"Oh, well it won't be deteriorated like that," Harry said, vehemently. "The chamber it has spells on it, even the shed skin is still whole and all over the chamber, even where it's been wet."
"Preservation charms?" the goblin breathed; eyes wide in astonishment. The guards were caught by surprise, almost having their spears slip out of their suddenly nerveless fingers.
"Not the eyes though, they were pecked at by Fawkes, who came to help me, I ultimately used the sword of Gryffindor and thrust it through its mouth and up through its skull." Harry explained.
He made it sound like it was something people did every day. It was one of the most dangerous beasts to roam the earth. It took dozens of people to kill something like that. Just like it took dozens of people to subdue a Dragon.
"I swear you have Felix Felicis running through your veins," Antonin commented, still not prepared for any of this, despite seeing it on the paperwork for the ailments Harry had gone through all his life.
"It's just lucky that Fawkes was there, otherwise I would have died," Harry said sombrely, "When I shoved the sword up, one of its fangs sunk into my upper arm."
"Your luck is astounding; I am not sure there has been anyone survive a basilisk bite in magical history. Phoenix tears are notoriously difficult to procure." Ragnarök stated, this human was a warrior of the next level. He would be revered, remembered, never forgotten, up there with the likes of Merlin himself and the founders.
If the Dolohov and Potter line merged? Their child would be gloriously powerful, perhaps more so than their parents. Their fortune? Would be staggering.
"Does Lord Potter have the rights to it, or does it belong to the school?" One of the goblin guards shrewdly asked, it was beyond his knowledge he was afraid.
"Nothing supersedes the rights of conquest," Antonin replied, "Not even the location, residence or persons that were there at the moment of death." In other words, the one that actually killed the beast, gets the reward. Unless, they collectively agreed but this wasn't the case here with Harry.
"In other words, there's not a damn thing Dumbledore can do to stop the goblins entering Hogwarts and coming out with the Basilisk carcass?" Harry said with vindictive pleasure, "Please, please, please see it done during the feast so everyone sees it."
The goblin in turn smiled, you could count every single tooth in its maw. "It would be our pleasure." And there was nothing pleasant about the way he spoke at all.
Harry snorted out a sound of amusement.
"So, it's safe to say you felt very unsafe at Hogwarts that year?" the goblin's fingers dug into the table, as he got back to his task at hand.
"When I heard Hogwarts might close, yes," Harry declared bluntly, "Hogwarts was the only home I really ever knew, and I knew if I ended up with the Dursley's again…I wouldn't survive to return for another year. Their hatred of me doubled when I found out I was a wizard and begun training to use my powers."
Sure, he could say he was worried when Hermione was petrified. However, he knew there was help in the process for those who had been petrified. Knowing that she would be fine, after the shock of seeing her like that wore off.
"Personally, I wonder at all my professor's intelligence, when a second year, Muggle-born student was able to figure out what was happening." Harry sneered, "Yet the best and brightest of their known careers couldn't work out what it was? They couldn't even figure it out six decades ago! The idiots thought a Acromantula was petrifying people and had Rubeus Hagrid arrested and expelled. I fear for the wizarding world, I truly do, I understand why so many Muggle-born's actually return home to the muggle world. At least there the entire government isn't filled with people lining their own pockets instead of actually doing their jobs." Sure, there will be a great many of them but not all of them. The Ministry was filled with people who just didn't care. The few who want to make change…well, they can't really despite all their best efforts.
Antonin felt a flare of annoyance suffuse him, gravely insulted by the defamation being called into question on their world. He couldn't help but wonder a little numbly, if their practices truly were driving off the so called 'Muggle-born's' off. He was in no way accepting of the government's practices himself. The back and forth between the muggle world was a high-risk exposure move. Yet he couldn't help but ponder the words in a way he wouldn't have accepted from anyone else.
"The singular fact that the blasted bird knew exactly where to go, Dumbledore must have known someone was in danger and sent him." Antonin managed to say through gritted teeth. "Instead of doing the right thing and going himself. I can't say I am surprised, Dumbledore does like sending children to do grown wizards' jobs."
"He sent Fawkes with the sorting hat, which is where the sword fell on my head. Apparently, the sword will come to those with a great need for it." Harry informed them, not surprised that Dumbledore had sent him when he could have gone down himself. "It's like Dumbledore wanted us to fight each other all the time. Like he's testing me, trying to build me into some sort of hero." It was fundamentally not something he wanted, he wanted to be a healer, he knew that now. Helping those people? It was the best he'd ever felt. It was in those moments he just knew.
Antonin froze, "You'd be right." Dumbledore had allowed all the attempts on Harry's life to ensure that the Horcrux was rid of. He definitely knew about Harry's status, and had done so likely from the moment Harry became one. If he died, oh well, one less horcrux to deal with. If he lived it proved the prophecy was legitimate.
Harry narrowed his eyes, gaze shewed as he stared at Antonin. He realized the wizard knew something, knew something he didn't. He also realized by the way he was sitting that he wasn't going to talk about it, not here anyway. Probably the last place he should speak about it. This memory was going to be replayed to the ministry of magic potentially. If the information could be used to see to Dumbledore's arrest.
"Can you tell us everything that happened?" the goblin king requested.
"I'd rather give you the memory, basics have already been given. Lockhart tried to Obliviate Ron and I, it backfired. It caused a cave in. I went on to find Ginny who had gone down there, she was being possessed by Voldemort. I managed to stop Voldemort and destroy the diary with the help of a sword, sorting hat and Fawkes. Fawkes took all of us back up top, landed right in Dumbledore's office." Harry's face tightened in displeasure, recalling the look on Dumbledore's face. He'd been rather smug, eyes twinkling. "He was rather delighted to see us, but only for a second, you'd barely notice it, then he was concerned." Sighing softly, Harry carded his hand through his hair, he was so tired actually he just wanted to go home.
He failed to realize he'd begun thinking of Antonin's house as home. The one place where he felt truly safe, the place where he'd never been harmed. Not by anything.
"Very well," the goblin agreed, giving him a side-glance cautiously curious. The child must still be traumatised by what happened in this case. Not talking about it was a good indicator that the trauma still caused him pain. He wondered if there were any other memories that he would find himself reluctant to discuss but would offer up memories of. "Memories do not lie, unlike testimonies."
"Too bad I didn't know that before my trial." Harry grumbled; he'd been too terrified of being expelled he'd turned to mush. Then they hadn't even let him get in a word edgewise, and then proceeded to completely walk all over him. Dumbledore had made everything so much worse.
"Then you should have opened books and read," Antonin declared sternly, there was no excuse for ignorance. In his view, it spoke of laziness and incompetence that one doesn't know information required for all walks of life.
Harry cringed, yeah, he was right, but it had been drummed into him from a young age. It was difficult to get over a lifetime of conditioning. "When I went to muggle school, my aunt and uncle used to go mental if I did better than Dudley. Considering he's a bloody idiot, it wasn't easy. I deliberately did terribly at school in all subjects. It was better for me that way, I wasn't hurt so much."
"How long do you believe Dumbledore was aware of what was going on during your second year?" the goblin pushed, trying to see if he could get further information on Dumbledore.
"Forget my second year, he knew who originally opened the damn chamber and did nothing. He likes to use Legilimens on his students." Harry scoffed, rubbing his head, "But unfortunately, I don't have any real proof that he knew."
"Don't be disheartened, I did not expect it, Albus Dumbledore has been doing this for a very long time, Lord Potter. It admittedly only takes one incident to have the house of cards falling down…we have been waiting very patiently for people to realise he isn't the white hat he likes to pretend to be and with veritable proof to back them up. Over half a century waiting...we had given up hope."
Antonin conceded that with a tilt of his head, it wasn't just the goblins or the neutral parties, but the dark side too. It was just unfortunate that Dumbledore had a big following. His worshipers were thick as two short wands spelled together. It made him practically untouchable.
It spoke of Harry's fraught mental state that he believed nobody would care about his personal problems. The abuse and how blasé Dumbledore was regarding it and everything else. He was foolish for believing they had nothing, but time will prove Harry wrong. Perhaps then he'd begin believing he was worth something. It made Antonin's stomach twist; it was hardly any wonder his grandparents had taken to the boy so quickly.
Birds of a feather flock together and all that.
"Ironically enough, it's how I gained my medal for special services to the school. When he said Tom Riddle and I were alike…Dumbledore really was just enforcing the idea that we are." Harry shrugged indifferently, and he'd fallen for it.
Antonin's lips curled repulsively at the thought of Dumbledore. He wondered just how safe Harry would be returning to Dumbledore. Everything he heard indicted Dumbledore wanted the boy dead. It was absolutely terrifying that he didn't remove it, or make any attempts to do so. Just believed he was right and went on the path he thought was best.
"Did you ever tell Dumbledore you had no desire to return home?" the goblin king asked, changing the subject a little, he needed all information possible.
"To the Dursley residence, yes, I told him." Harry said, "I even told him I'd stay with Hagrid and clean the castle to earn my keep, that I'd do anything that the Dursley's hated me. He just patted me on the head and told me that all families have their disagreements. He wouldn't let me get a word in edgewise after that…like he didn't want me to get the words out in his presence. I gave up asking after that." Sighing resignedly, rubbing his jaw tiredly. He didn't want to talk about this anymore, he was tired, weighed down, exhausted, whatever you want to call it, he was probably it.
"You never told anybody?" the goblin pounced on that piece of information. "Does that include your friends?"
"Well, my friends knew the Dursley's didn't care, I never told them how bad it was. However, before my second year, Ron and the twins, came to 'save' me with their fathers enchanted car. They uh, pulled the bars that had been put on my windows to prevent owls getting in or out and my getting out full stop, and we fled to the burrow."
"Twins, this would be Fredrick Fabian Weasley and George Gideon Weasley?" Ragnarök questioned dutifully.
Harry rose his brows at their middle names, he knew those names. They'd been mentioned only the once. Fabian and Gideon Weasley were order members, Mrs. Weasley's brothers, they'd died taking down ten Death Eaters with them. "That would be them, yes."
The goblin immediately wrote briefly on another stack of paperwork, with a list of names. Harry noticed that Hermione and Ron's names were on the list and if he wasn't wrong Arabella Figg too, bloody hell. Just what were they planning on doing? Questioning them?
"They won't give you information on Dumbledore," Harry murmured tiredly, his eyes pinched, "They blindly follow him regardless of what's happening." Figg had gone along blindly with Dumbledore despite the obvious signs of abuse.
"Not on purpose, no," the goblin said with a grin, the goblins weren't stupid. They knew how best to question someone, whether they admired them or not. He added Dobby the House-elf to the list as well.
Harry inclined his head in respect of their expertise.
"Continue, Lord Potter, tell us all you can," the goblin encouraged him.
The more Harry spoke, the greater the weight that lifted from his shoulders. The terror of revealing all this, seem to have disappeared at their reactions. Proof that he needn't have been so afraid. That he wasn't a fault, that regardless of his powers, he was just a child entitled to feel safe. That if he'd just gone to someone else, trusted someone else all would have been right in his world.
He explained his past with Ripper, Marge Dursley's dog. His history with her, how she got a room in the household and he hadn't despite only coming once a year. How she definitely knew how they were treating him, and approved and actually told them to be worse to him. Admittedly she did think he was an incurable criminal to be fair, still did after the magic he cast on Marge.
It was very, very difficult to keep the smug smirk off his face describing that. Even Antonin had to admit he was impressed with the boys' acting abilities. Then again, he wouldn't have survived the Dursley's if he didn't know how to play people.
"We never actually told Ron about what we did that night," Harry offhandedly remarked, as he told them about the night he used the time-turner to get Buckbeak and his innocent godfather to safety.
"Unfortunately, we can't get him for the dementors," Ragnarök grumbled, but nonetheless seemed very pleased with how the case looked thus far. "However, we can get him for perverting the courts of justice, sending children to save an animal set for execution…and a criminal, oh, yes. It has no bearing on it that Lord Black was innocent. This is the second-best criminal charges yet." Nothing beats out child abuse, and that one wasn't one to be best pleased about.
"I actually feel slightly bad for him," Harry told Antonin with a look on his face, "I shouldn't feel guilty, should I?" it had been his godfather he was helping after all, right? He was the one that did it though, could this come back and bite him on the ass?
Antonin grunted his amusement, "No." he succinctly put. "He could have called an emergency Wizengamot meeting, which would have had your godfather proven innocent before the next sunrise."
Harry glanced at the goblins, seeking their council, they merely nodded. "Dumbledore's power is immense. Not only does he have control at Hogwarts, but he is chief warlock within the Wizengamot, and the supreme Mugwump in the ICW…"
Harry laughed, "I still can't get over the fact they use the word Mugwump. It means someone that's independent from political parties!" Harry had spluttered, almost incoherent with the idea when he first realized it. The ICW was created the international statute of wizarding secrecy. Dumbledore was in no capacity 'independent' he was entirely with the 'light' parties.
"The irony is not lost on us." Ragnarök answered wryly. Technically Dumbledore shouldn't have all those titles, but the wizarding world didn't seem to care and had done what it pleased. Not one wizard should have so much power.
It wasn't muggles that coined that absolute power corrupts absolutely. It's very unlikely that Dumbledore had any morals left, they'd have diminished within a decade of his defeat of Gellert Grindelwald.
"Then do as you will," Harry stated, his shoulders and back straight, any lingering guilt or feeling sorry disappeared with the new realization. Of course, he'd already suspected it (knew it) but to have it confirmed without a shadow of a doubt? Didn't hurt just made him feel tired and resigned really.
"A fully fledged Patronus, it's damn near impossible for most adult Wixen." The guard goblin muttered to its partner, almost agog over the revelation, "He's the next coming of Merlin mark my words." To them it wasn't the best accomplishment, but it spoke of power unsurpassed. They doubted even Dumbledore could have accomplished a fully-fledged Patronus at thirteen. They had a new powerful wizard with political clout on the up and up.
"I wonder if Dumbledore intended this," a look of great amusement on the goblin guards face. Despite his appearance of 'nonchalance' his eyes were glued to the entrance – the only one at that – to ensure the goblin kings safety.
"Doubtful," came the dubious reply. Who would want a follower that was more powerful than them? Not the likes of Dumbledore anyway, the Dark Lord Voldemort might, he was surrounded by some very powerful wizards who could potentially give him a run for his money. Duke Dolohov included.
Antonin silently agreed with them, if one didn't know the truth you would think Dumbledore was grooming Harry to take his place as the leader of the light fraction. Both politically and in the war. No, Harry being powerful was definitely not in Dumbledore's plans.
He was supposed to be the one to entice the boy away from Dumbledore at least. The save at least one misguided soul away from the war. To turn Harry Potter neutral. It turned out it was him learning new information every single day thus far.
Needless to say, the Dark Lord was in for a hell of a surprise when he returned to Britain.
"Would you give us permission to speak to your mind healer? To get a professional view of how these incidents affected you?" Ragnarök asked, quill poised, ready to write down the name of his healer.
Harry stiffened, swallowing thickly, "I've never seen a mind healer."
Ragnarök blinked, it's beady eyes broadcasted disbelief before it became entirely blank once more. "Forgive me if I'm wrong, Lord Potter, but you saw a school friend and fellow champion die when you were just fourteen. Nobody thought for a moment to send you to a grief councillor?" which was a mind healer.
"I don't consider that the worst thing I've been through, but again, no, I've never been to see anyone. Be it a mind healer or grief councillor. Each time something happens I am shipped back to the Dursley's to be worked like a House-elf…with my best friends listening to Dumbledore and not writing to me that summer."
Antonin inhaled at the sheer cruelty of it. "And Black?" the unspoken question understood, did the boys so called Godfather not write either? It turned his stomach, regardless of what side, the boy had been fourteen, and he'd been ignored? In a lot of ways Dumbledore was worse than the Dark Lord.
Harry's gaze remained on the table; his teeth gritting caused all of them to inwardly cringe at the sound. He shook his head, no, he hadn't written either. It wasn't entirely his fault though, up until the moment he died, he still hadn't received any help to recover from Azkaban. If he had, then everything would be vastly different Harry would bet. He missed Sirius, or the idea of him, of what could have been and the possibility of getting out of the Dursleys.
Which naturally, was something Dumbledore didn't want.
The goblin set the quill aside, none of the ink within budging a bit. Its teeth were gnashing together, revealing his own feelings on what Dumbledore had done. Another thing to get him on, it was bad enough he failed his duty as Lord Potters' magical guardian in nearly every respect. To not get him a mind healer given what he's been through? The Wizengamot were likely to seethe in silent rage over the fact they couldn't do anything. They'd want to give the punishment but luckily for them, they'd been hired and the fact money was stolen allowed them to charge him with everything they could throw at him.
There was no redeeming Dumbledore.
"Was there any way Dumbledore could have had me removed as a Triwizard participant as my magical guardian?" Harry asked, leaning forward, trusting that they would know the answer.
Surprisingly Ragnarök, the goblin king, glanced to his right, seeking answers from the goblin that would know best.
The goblin scribe stood up, "Under the old rules, you would have been able to be removed immediately."
Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously, "Old rules?" it couldn't have been something Voldemort done, he had no power except a few Death Eaters willing to risk all for him, only due to the fact they had no other choice, both were supposed to be dead after all.
"There were new rules put forth in the October meeting of the ICW where the Triwizard Tournament was concerned." The scribe explained. "Which was just two days before the unveiling of the contestants, champions were picked."
"What exactly did Dumbledore change?" Antonin asked, leaning forward in interest.
"That the participants picked by the goblet must complete all tasks, if they are physically able. Should they decline after putting forth their name, their magic would be taken as punishment."
Harry huffed in annoyance, truly not surprised. "Nice way to twist it to make sure I was forced to participate. I was picked by the goblet, regardless of my age, and did have to complete. What surprises me is that he actually put it forward, and didn't have someone else do it for him." After all a law like that would make him very unpopular. If anyone thought to look.
"The ICW might 'respect' him and follow his lead upon occasion, they aren't how shall I put it? Sitting with their head firmly lodged up his rectum. He wouldn't have been able to get anyone from the ICW to put forth a law suggestion on his behalf. Especially not an ambiguous and incompetent law like that."
"It's likely that was the point," Harry sighed, rubbing his temples, "He knew something was happening he just didn't know what. I wrote to my godfather about the weird dreams I was having. Dreams in which I was seeing through Voldemort or Nagini's eyes." He still felt betrayed by that, he'd confided in his godfather only for everything he wrote or said to end up parroted to Dumbledore. He wondered if that was when Dumbledore decided that Sirius had outlived his usefulness. Was he pissed that Harry wasn't coming to him but confiding in his godfather? Harry mentally shoved that thought back, he didn't dare think about it. If he went down that path there would be no getting off it.
"He knew of this connection?" Ragnarök questioned, "Perhaps that's the reason for the lack of mind healer, he wouldn't want anyone else to know about it."
"He knew," Harry sighed tiredly, wishing they'd hurry it up now, it was fun to begin with, but he was feeling mentally drained which was highly unusual. It was usually physically drained but with his mind running a mile a minute preventing any peace in his mind.
"Another point of him," the goblin almost cackled gleefully, but remained as stalwart as possible. They were getting to finally bring Dumbledore to justice after all the wrong he'd done their world.
"I'm staying for another half an hour then I'm returning home." Harry stated, his weariness displayed prominently on his tired features.
Ragnarök looked like he wanted to protest, but he realized it would do no good. He also acknowledged he only had forty-five minutes himself without more meetings being cancelled. It was extremely rude to cancel meetings, especially when time was money. "Very well, shall we return tomorrow morning at eight?" came the immediate suggestion.
Harry merely nodded, he was always awake early, too used to being up early for class or worse, doing everything for the Dursley's over the summer holidays. In fact, he actually got to sleep in a bit here and he loved it.
"Did you have any interactions with Dumbledore upon your return to school? Any sign he was concerned for your wellbeing after discovering these alarming dreams you've been subject to?"
"No," Harry said bluntly, "First time he spoke to me was when he asked me calmly if I had put my name in the goblet of fire. Worst thing was, the Headmasters of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang told their students what they were facing for the first task, if it weren't for Hagrid I wouldn't have known. Although, that was likely on Dumbledore's suggestion. I'm not sure Hagrid knows how to defecate without the headmaster's permission."
That last statement had the goblins faces twisting in their attempting to prevent themselves from laughing. They knew wizards would see this memory, and thus consorted themselves in the proper manner for representing the goblin nation.
Antonin wasn't quite so reserved; his booming laugh was echoing in the cavernous room.
"Can I ask, did you understand anything the dragon said as a Parselmouth?" one of the goblin guards couldn't help but ask. Glancing down at the floor with one look from the goblin king at his audacity.
"No, Dragons don't speak Parseltongue at least it made no effort to do so with me." Harry answered the goblin's curiosity, "So far, all I've spoken to is a Basilisk and the odd snake, if Dragons are any way closely related to serpentine creatures…it's not close enough." He didn't speak down to the goblin, he was frank and respectful. Then again, Harry had always been respectful to every sentient being unless it was trying to kill him. Such as the basilisk.
Harry did wonder why he had been asked, as far as he knew there were many, many wizards that could speak Parseltongue according to Antonin. A few years ago, he wouldn't have blinked at the question, stupidly believing that he and Voldemort were the only ones left. He hadn't trusted Antonin though, he'd actually read into it, a branch of the family had left the UK to USA and actually created IIvermorny. "If you have any questions, feel free to write, I should get your letters now." He no longer had a ward redirecting his mail.
"You were mentioned in the newspapers a lot that year, did you give permission for the articles to be written?" the goblin enquired, the other champions were legally adults, and could have information about them written. Harry Potter was believed to be underage.
"No, but I wouldn't mind her being sued for anything you can get her with." Harry sighed; it was tedious having articles written about him by Skeeter.
"We'd be very happy to open a case on one Rita Skeeter if you wish." The goblin answered.
"First port of call should be whether she's registered herself as the beetle Animagus she is." Harry said, vindictively, well, she couldn't honestly think he wouldn't bite back at some point?
The goblin king, Ragnarök found himself increasingly impressed. He liked this wizard immensely; he was getting revenge on everyone who had wronged him. He glanced briefly at Antonin wondering if he was the catalyst or if he was just one of the many adventures the Lord Potter was on.
He would do anything the young Lord asked, and he would make sure the goblins respected this wizard. Not just for bringing down Voldemort, or Dumbledore but everything else he'd accomplished at such a young age. Although, the simple fact he could bring Dumbledore down was enough to cause more respect than Lord Potter would likely know what to do with. No, that wasn't true, the fact he spoke to them with nothing but respect would be the bringer of most respect.
"If we need more information, I will ensure the goblin owls you," Ragnarök declared, "Now let's get back to the questions at hand…"
They had only twenty-five minutes left after all.
Those twenty-five minutes were used wisely, as question after question was asked regarding his fourth year at Hogwarts and his experiences. The goblins did not believe everything they read, especially not in the Ministry run newspaper they had a very different name for the Daily Prophet which Harry frankly agreed with.
Their curiosity regarding the brother wands and how they reacted truly reared their curiosity. Goblins were indeed very curious and intelligent creatures, they had to be keeping the economy steady despite the three wars that had vastly affected it.
"They knew everything as they were emerging from the wands these ghosts? As if they were watching in real time?" Ragnarök questioned, his dark eyes alight with wonder. Asking the questions only after he had the memories, he couldn't wait to watch some of them.
"Well, Frank did say, 'so he was a real wizard is he,' and then proceeded to tell me he, Voldemort, had killed him. Which I already knew, since he was the one, I saw Voldemort kill in the vision." Harry told them after a few thoughtful seconds thinking about it. "My parents didn't miss a beat before telling me to hold on, they weren't surprised I wasn't a baby or anything of the sor—" before Harry could finish there was an almighty bang before another goblin appeared in the doorway looking distressed.
The guards rose their spears midway before lowering them immediately. The spears thumping as the hit the floor as the guards relaxed. "Ragnok?" Ragnarök questioned, before he was hovering protectively speaking rapidly in gobbledegook.
The ensuring conversation went way over Antonin and Harry's heads.
They did understand only two words of the conversation. Only because during the last bit of their conversation they used the term, Lord Potter.
Then all the goblins were looking at Harry who blanched.
"What?" he asked defensively, stepping back warily. Suspicious of the looks he was gleaning from the goblins. Even worse that they continued to speak in a language he fundamentally didn't understand. He didn't dare remove his wand lest they think he was about to attack them and he was misreading the situation.
His instincts were warring within him, it looked like they were discussing him and about to do something. Yet on the other hand, he had seen their faces, they didn't look like they were about to unleash hell on him. Especially the one that entered, they looked…well, desperate for the lack of better words.
"Lord Potter, do you have any experience with your natural healer abilities?" the goblin king enquired, his gaze intent upon Harry.
Harry licked his lips, sidling closer to Antonin, glancing up at him briefly. Antonin's arms on his shoulders gave him further confidence, "I do." And it was true, he had helped many people in a single day until he was beyond exhausted. He wasn't sure what on earth the goblins could want from him though. He'd never felt better in his life.
"Follow me," the goblin king, and his guard was already attempting to get between Antonin and Harry.
"I'm not going without Antonin," Harry declared sternly, not even his gaze was apologetic. Showing that he was very serious and wasn't about to give in.
"He's still under Parley," Antonin warned, fingers twitching as if fighting the urge to go for his wand at the threat. 'Under his protection' went unsaid but perfectly understood. They were all of them warriors.
Ragnarök stood for a brief moment, but a look at the other goblin – that would turn out to be his wife – he conceded to both of them being allowed in the hallowed halls of their healer rooms.
In that room there was a tiny baby goblin. It wasn't the prettiest of things, but the cries tugged at his heartstrings. "What's wrong with…the young one?" not wishing to call the creature a baby just in case it wasn't anymore.
"Can't you tell?" it came out as a challenge.
"Are you healthy?" Harry asked the goblin that had barged into the room.
Utterly perplexed and a little lost at the conversation, as her child cried utterly breathless. "Yes," it was her child that was ill, why was he asking about her? Irritation flushed through her; she just wanted her child to be well.
"I'm going to touch you here," gesturing towards his shoulder, before touching hers, eyes closed.
"What is he doing?" Ragnarök asked, while the goblin healers scowled and remained in the corner looking as if there were a horrid smell under their nose.
"I believe he's getting acquainted with your…biology." Antonin shrewdly guessed, he had no difficulty healing anyone, whether it be an adult or child.
A look of deep offense overcame her features, "We are no different to humans!" filthy beasts that they could be, she'd never been more mortally offended.
"That's not actually true, you have more bones, not many more compared to humans, but more nonetheless." In their ears, more teeth, and longer hands and feet thus more bones even if they were small.
Antonin smirked; they clearly hadn't expected a reply.
Harry removed his hand from the goblin – later he'd learn it was the other – and touched the young goblin. His eyes slid closed again, and almost immediately, the young one's cries begun to lessen.
"There was a hole in the little one's heart," Harry murmured, as he continued to push his magic into the baby, healing what ails him entirely. "How couldn't this be fixed?" green eyes popping open unimpressed.
"There are many potions you cannot give to anyone under five." A healer nasally declared, harrumphing at the human's idiocy.
"Humans save their young by doing surgeries to close to hole in the child's heart. Thus, allowing them to live a long and perfectly healthy life." Harry refuted, ignoring the horrified blanching, "How many children are dying because they can't have potions and they don't understand there's a muggle method?" stomach queasy at the thought. "There we go, all better, hmm…" stroking the baby's cheek, he honestly didn't care if he was a goblin, everyone deserved comfort when they were hurt. He remembered wishing for it with all his heart.
"Is, is he alright?" the mother asked, speaking in English.
One of the goblin healers dashed forward, a long blunt nail on the goblin child's head, they murmured quietly under their breathe.
Harry stood back, once again right next to Antonin, the feeling of safety and security he felt with him was immeasurable. He leaned against the other wizard exhaustedly, he didn't understand why he was always so tired. Shouldn't he feel a lot of energy and have lots of magic to burn since he was healed and his magic unlocked?
"We will be back for the follow up appointment tomorrow," Antonin stated firmly, his voice reverberating around the cavernous room.
"You may use the Floo network," gesturing towards the large fireplace they could use.
Antonin had to all but carry Harry home, he was out for the count before they got out the fireplace home. He did not wake again until six o'clock the next morning.
"Did I really sleep nearly a whole day?" a bleary-eyed Harry asked, as he shuffled into the room, shivering in the cold. The house-elves hadn't had a chance to really warm the place up yet.
"You did," Antonin informed him, watching the teen shuffle towards the table in his pyjamas. He truly had no manners whatsoever. "You might want to see a special copy of the Daily Prophet." Antonin waved the newspaper in front of Harry's face.
Harry's mouth reared up into a scowl, he loathed that newspaper.
"You'll find it particularly agreeable today." Handing over not just the newspaper but a small box.
Harry blinked; he hadn't purchased anything. It wasn't his birthday either, opening the parcel, he opened it, and found difficulty breathing. Blinking rapidly, understanding what was likely on the newspaper.
Affixed to the velvet box was an Order of Merlin, 1st Class. With the name Sirius Orion Black written on it in tiny writing. Inhaling sharply, his breathing shaky, blinking away tears. He didn't even know the wizard; he didn't know why he felt this way at that very moment.
"The goblins got Sirius' innocence status known," Harry croaked out, opening the newspaper, Sirius cleared of all charges, Peter Pettigrew wanted, undesirable number one.
"They don't waste time." Antonin explained, "Time is money as they so often state. They have also afforded us asylum here; they cannot force us back otherwise they will risk a war." Considering they were already at war with the Dark Lord, it definitely isn't something they'd risk, not for Antonin anyway, but Harry? Well, they'll likely consider themselves doomed without him.
"They'll know where I am?" Harry stiffened, the thought of it alarmed him more than he realized.
"No, they could find out where you are and where you have asylum but never your address its unplottable." Like he would have taken risks with his home. He wasn't a Dolohov for nothing.
"He never got to appreciate any freedom," Harry murmured, fingers stroking down the medal before he snapped it closed. "I'll always hate them for that." and a million other things as well.
"He was never free, he was like you, a child soldier, one that Dumbledore groomed just the same as you. The Dark Lord doesn't brainwash children into his service, and when they want to join it's something they want." The Dark Lord made sure of it.
Harry blinked, mouth hanging open, "A what?" he croaked out, he'd never seen himself as such, let alone seen Sirius that way. It made a sinking feeling in his stomach.
A/N – OMG I was beginning to think this chapter would never end tell you something though, it's the longest chapter I've wrote in a while which yay! I'm pleased. I just want to write more than I'm managing right now. I sort of hate how much of my times being eaten up. I got a second-hand apple laptop just before my birthday when my other one bit the dust :D it's awesome! The birthday surprise (a lovely donation) I got, let me buy Word so I could continue writing. As always thank you all so much for your lovely reviews know I read them even if I don't answer a lot of them. I'd need to choose between writing and responding, writing will always win out. R&R please and take care everyone x