Rambling and Dribbles: A dribble that I hope some enjoy.
-oOo-
Working Title: Switzerland or Bust-oOo-
Premise:Premise: Harry is tired of being Fate's and an ungrateful Britian's chew toy. Not to mention manipulative wankers, a Minister trying to find scapegoats to hold onto his job and goblins only looking to make a galleon.
This is a 'Harry get's out of England' story. I seem to be writing many of these dribbles lately.
-oOo-
Chapter 1-oOo-
August 4, 1995Little Whinging, Surrey, England
Harry got onto the muggle bus. It was heading towards the train station and London.
It was a short fifteen-minute ride, then he had to wait. As he waited, he took out the small book on German he had picked up at the beginning of summer. In primary he had taken three years of German, only because it got him away from Dudley, who had taken French. Harry had found he enjoyed speaking a language his relatives didn't understand and wanted to go to Germany one day, figuring it would be far enough away his relatives would never bother him again.
In the last four years at Hogwarts, he had found that his skills had fallen off, so he had snuck out to a small bookstore in town shortly after getting back for the summer and had gotten a few books. The primer in his hands was one of the more useful ones, especially given its smaller size easily fit into a pocket.
Looking up as a train arrived on the platform, he waited where he was while looking around. It was still the morning rush, so many commuters got on the train, but only a few got off. He was trying to see who got off, then he gave a small smile to see a familiar head of bushy hair.
"Hermione!" he called out as the crowd thinned.
She turned to him. Once she caught sight of him, she smiled and waived. He moved to her as she rushed to his side. "Oh, Harry! How are you?" she asked as she wrapped her arms around him.
"Doing better," he told her. Having been able to send muggle post back and forth, and sneak a few phone calls, had helped him cope. He wrapped his arms around her after a moment.
"I've been so worried about you," she told him.
"I'm alright," he whispered as he rested his check against her head. Someone cleared their throat. He looked up to see a woman that looked like a much older Hermione. He went to remove himself, but Hermione didn't let him go. He extended a hand. "Good morning, misses Granger."
The woman gave him a small smile and took his hand. Harry had properly introduced himself to her parents at the end of the year before they had left Kingscross. "Good morning, Harry. Hermione, are you going to hug him all day?"
Hermione pulled back. He found it cute that her cheeks were slightly flush. "I just haven't seen him in a bit, and you know what happened at the end of the year."
"I know what you told me," her mother said cryptically. "Are you ready for the meeting?"
"I am. I have everything in my pocket." Harry taped the jacket he was wearing. Inside his pocket was a small pouch with an expansion charm that Sirius had been able to send him.
The woman nodded. When the next train arrived, they got back on and he listened happily to Hermione as she talked about their trip to Greece. Someday soon he would travel. He was hoping it would be very soon. Harry wanted away from the insane witches and wizards of Britain. He also didn't want to give the Dark Wanker another chance at killing him. This last time in June, and the fallout afterwards, was enough for him to want to leave.
When they got out in London at Kingscross Station, they went towards the underground instead of the outside. If they had gone outside, it would have been a short fifteen-minute walk to the Leaky Cauldron. After a short ride, they got out at Bakers Street Station and followed the directions that Mrs Granger had written on a paper to a muggle building in an upper-class neighbourhood. The white cross on a red shield on the building was the only indication that they were stepping into another country's sovereign territory on British soil.
They had chosen this country because it was not particularly friendly to Britain, its laws encouraged magicals and mundanes to coexist and the Ministry of Magic reported directly to the muggle government, which was why the ambassadors for both the muggle and magical world were in the same building.
Inside the lobby of the five-story building, Harry saw two guards and a receptionist behind a large polished counter. "Hello. May I help you?" the dark hair woman asked in an accented voice.
"Yes. I am Doctor Emmaline Granger. I have an appointment with Mister Wiescroft at ten," Mrs Granger said.
The woman looked down at an appointment book. "Doctor Granger. Yes, I see you here. Who do you have with you today?"
"My daughter, Hermione Granger, and her friend, Harry Potter," she said.
The woman behind the desk nodded and went to write their names down. Harry noticed one of the guards give him another look. He didn't miss the man's eyes going towards his forehead. Harry held in his sigh. Even outside of Britain he was famous.
"Please take these badges. You need to put them on so everyone can see you are visitors. If you want to go sit over there, I'll let Mister Wiescroft know you are here. It should only be a few minutes," the woman told them congenially.
"Thank you," Mrs Granger said.
The couches weren't exactly comfortable, but Harry didn't want to be comfortable. He was starting to get nervous about what they were doing. He had wanted to do this on his own, but had been told he needed a guardian to see the Ambassador or his staff. Hermione had managed to convince her mother to help.
His leg was bouncing as they waited. Hermione put her hand on his leg. The pleasant jolt that went up it had him stop. "It will be alright, Harry. Everything will work out," she tried to soothe him.
Harry gave an uncertain smile. "What if they don't help?"
"They will," she said back softly.
Her mother watched them, certain more than ever of her daughter's feelings for the boy. Not that there was much doubt after four years of her writing home about Harry Potter, and less frequently their other friend, that Weasley boy.
After waiting ten minutes, a tall, older man with blond hair and light blue eyes came out. He was followed by two guards. They all stood up as the man approached them. "Doctor Granger?"
"Yes," she said, holding her hand out to take the one the man was holding out for her.
"A pleasure to meet you, doctor. I'm Ambassador Wilhelm Weiscroft. I'm told you are accompanied by some others today?" the man said, looking towards him and Hermione.
"I am, Ambassador Weiscroft. This is my daughter, Hermione, and her friend, Harry Potter."
The man's eyes darted towards his head quickly, then he was acting like there was nothing out of the ordinary. "If you would, we can head towards my office."
They were led into a room just off the lobby. When it closed, Harry felt even more nervous when they were enclosed in a room with a window and doors on either side. "I am sorry about this, but we do not allow wands, other weapons or magical artefacts into the embassy. If you would, please put everything on the table. I assure you that you will get everything back in the way it was received."
Hermione and him looked a little nervous. "What about the Statute of Secrecy?" Hermione questions, looking at the guards.
"Everyone that works for my office is either a squib or a full wizard, Miss Granger. We know who you are, Mister Potter. I must admit I am surprised. I had thought this might just be a meeting about a muggle-born looking for information on Switzerland and potentially going to school there. We get a few every year," Ambassador Weiscroft said.
"I don't like being without my wand," Harry said.
"I understand, but we do have security protocols. I will give you my oath, if you need," the man offered.
Harry shook his head. "No. I don't like oaths," Harry said, having learned about them in the last year and what they had cost him in his life.
It was ten minutes later that they sat in a fancifully decorated office with tea, coffee and small snacks. The pile of parchments, papers, his passport and a pouch of galleons were on the table before him. "Now that we are settled, what is this meeting about?"
"I'm sorry for the deception, ambassador, but Harry said he couldn't get an appointment without a parent or guardian present," Mrs Granger said.
"And I take it you are his guardian?"
"No," Harry said. The man looked towards him. "I was emancipated in the magical world because of my forced participation in the Triwizard Tournament last year. The receptionist didn't believe me when I tried to make an appointment a few weeks ago. Misses Granger, I'm sorry, Doctor Granger, helped me to make one."
The man nodded his head. "I assume you have proof of this in that pile of paper?"
"Yes sir," Harry said, pushing it all towards him. "Hermione found that I can ask for asylum. I would like to get out of Britain and take all my wealth with me. I also have another matter I want to talk about, but need a promise that you won't do anything if you choose not to help."
The man's brow rose up. "I can certainly talk to you about your request for asylum, but I can't make any promises, magical or otherwise. Do you formally seek asylum in Switzerland?"
Harry frowned and looked to Hermione. "If you can get asylum, then you can see about the other issues later."
Reluctantly nodding, Harry turned back to Ambassador Weiscroft. "I formally seek asylum in Switzerland."
The man nodded. "And you, Doctor Granger, do you and your daughter ask for the same?"
"We do not. If Harry is granted asylum, Hermione has already applied and been accepted to Grenobles. My husband and I have not made the decision if we will be moving to Switzerland or not," she said.
"I always thought Grenobles was better than the three largest schools in Europe," the ambassador said. "My wife and I sent our three there and I will have a granddaughter starting this fall. Before I approve anything, you do know what it means to ask for asylum?"
Harry nodded. "It means I am asking you to protect me from the British Ministry. I understand that I will be a ward of the muggle state until I turn seventeen. I tried to apply to Grenobles, but was rejected because the goblins wouldn't verify I am emancipated because my regent forbid them any communications outside the country."
The man nodded. "How is it you have a regent but are emancipated? I thought it was British law that any emancipated minor could become head of their house?"
Harry tried not to show his annoyance, but it didn't work. He gave a small huff. "Before I found out I was emancipated, the Chief Warlock petitioned the Wizengamot to have my estate put into a receivership until I was twenty-one and then the Chief Warlock became my regent. The goblins say I can't take up my Head of House, even though their treaties say I should be able too."
The man looked at him for a few. "What do you want by asking for asylum?"
"I want out. I don't want to be where most of my classmates and professors think I'm a cheater, liar and glory hound. I want to find out what my parents' will says. I want all my funds and stuff out of the country so I can't have anymore stolen from me. Most of all, I don't want to be manipulated, hunted or almost killed every year in school," Harry resolutely said.
The man sat back in his chair. "I feel there is more to your story than what the papers and books say. Don't look so upset, Mister Potter. I heard about you wanting to make an appointment and did some research if you managed to do so. Are there details of your financial holdings and the Wizengamot rulings in this pile?"
The ambassador sat up and started to look through the pile.
"We couldn't get the Wizengamot ruling, but we do have the copies of the paperwork given to the goblins, all of Harry's account statements, the items believed missing, his emancipation papers, the application for asylum, an application for Grenobles, an application to open an account with the gnomes and all his muggle paperwork we could find," Hermione said.
The man gave her an interested look. "We, Miss Granger?"
Hermione's cheeks flushed a little again. "Harry asked for help after he got a notice from Gringotts last November. We think he wasn't supposed to get it, but the owl found him while we were in Hogwarts before the first task. I helped him get everything I could after researching what was needed."
Harry grinned. "Hermione is the smartest witch of her age."
"I can see. You must be proud, Doctor Granger," the man complimented.
"More than you know," Mrs Granger replied.
The man gave her a toothy smile. "Having a few children and grandchildren of my own, I can guess. If you can just give me a few minutes?"
Harry's leg started to bounce again as they waited for the man to go through the pile. Hermione put her hand on his leg again to stop him. Again, a pleasant thrill shot through him. His hand moved to be over hers. She took the tips of his fingers into hers as his palm lay over the top of her hand.
After a few minutes, the man looked back up at them. "This all looks to be in order. You are prepared for your government to be upset about this? And your regent may press to have to extradited back?"
Harry snorted. "They are pretty upset with me right now and Hermione said you don't have any extradite treaties on the magical side."
The man inclined his head with a small smile. "Miss Granger would be correct. As for your ministry, I have seen your Daily Prophet and have heard from Minister Fudge. It sounded like you made a mess of the end of the tournament and there are rumours you were involved in the deaths of those six purebloods in Little Hangelton, though I don't understand how if you were supposed to be at Hogwarts," the man said.
Harry frowned. "Do I have asylum?"
The man regarded Harry for a few, before he nodded. "It is not our policy at the Swiss Ministry to reject those that need our help. Would you tell me what really happened before we go any further?"
He shared another look with Hermione. Her mother was looking encouragingly at them. After giving a sigh, Harry started, "The Triwizard cup was a portkey. It was supposed to take whoever grabbed it first to the stage. Instead, I wound up in a graveyard. If you have a pensive, I can show you…"
-oOo-
Later that day…London, England
Sirius sat at the table of the dingy kitchen. A glass swirled a clear, smoking liquid as he lazily spun a glass at the tips of his fingers. The people around him were talking about mundane stuff like what their jobs were like, how their children were doing, or what was going on at the Ministry or around the wizarding world.
There was a dissatisfied look on his face as he listened in.
That was all he could do, was listen to what other people did to live. Since that night Pettigrew had betrayed them all, he hadn't lived. He had been a prisoner for nearly twelve years, on the run for the last two and a half and with no prospect of ever really living again. The worst of it was that he had a godson that seemed to be just as constrained as he was and he couldn't do anything about it.
Taking the tumbler to his lips, he sipped at the harsh liquid in the glass. This was a good vintage of fire whiskey. His father always did have good taste in alcohol and he had been surprised to find the wine cellar still stocked with old vintages and hard alcohol. Though he had to admit, he had had made a dent in the stock over the last month and a half. What else did he have to do except sip at the rot gut liquor?
He made his face go blank as a man with greasy hair and an equally sour expression as Sirius sat next to him. "I see you already have a good handle on your day," the man snarked.
"It's better than cleaning the shite off my nose. Tell me, Snivellus, do you enjoy the smell or the taste more?" Sirius retorted.
The man snarled. "If I had all day to just think up insults, I might come up with better. As it is, I have much to do."
Sirius snorted. It was a low blow the man always brought up that he was stuck in this house. "You're insulting enough. You wouldn't need all day to think up more."
The man sneered at him. He looked ready to respond when the grand poomba of the meeting swept into the room. The grey bearded man moved towards the head of the table. It was a spot his father never would have let anyone else take, but Sirius didn't want it. He didn't want to be heir to a disgraced and almost extinct house. What the name Black stood for now was nothing to be proud of.
Everyone silenced as the bearded wanker's presence could be felt. Sirius stopped swirling the liquor to see the high dudgeon the man was in. Something had happened and everyone could tell. The dower expression on Kingsley face and the concern on Dora's had him looking at them curiously as they followed Dumbledore in. His eyes narrowed to see Fletcher sneak in. Only Kingsley would meet his eyes.
Dumbledore took up before the chair. "I have some rather disturbing news and a problem."
"Albus, what happened? I heard there was something that had Amelia Bones storming through the ministry," Arthur asked.
The man cast his eyes down for a moment, looking rather sad. Sirius regarded the man with dispassionate eyes. At one time he would have bought the act, but after he had made Harry compete in that farce last year, and that he kept saying his hands were tied to get him a trial, Sirius didn't buy it anymore. "I'm sad to say that two dementors found Harry's house today. His cousin Dudley and Uncle Vernon were kissed. We are still looking for his aunt."
There were exclamations of disbelief, cries of fear and a Sirius that looked at the man angrily. "And what of my godson?" he asked as things quieted down when Dumbledore held up his hands for quiet.
"That is the problem. We don't know. Unfortunately, the DMLE has gotten involved and found the rogue dementors. They are currently looking for both Harry and his aunt. I can only assume they went off together before this tragedy occurred. I would like to organize a search by the Order. We must find him before the Death Eaters do," Dumbledore told them.
Sirius couldn't stop the dog like growl in his throat. "Who was watching him today?"
"I don't think we need to worry about that. Finding Harry is most important at this time," Dumbledore said.
"Fletcher. When we arrived we found him passed out in the bushes," Dora said angrily.
"Now, Nymphadora…" Dumbledore started.
"I'll kill you if he's dead," Sirius yelled as he suddenly leapt out of his chair and launched himself across the table at the man. He didn't even think of pulling his wand as his magic propelled him forward. Mundungus tried to get away, his chair falling over and leaving him splayed out on the floor. Only a stunner stopped Sirius from trying to kill the man…
When he woke, it was to find Remus at his bedside. He was holding out a vile with a purple potion. "Drink."
"I'm not taking any calming draft. Where's Harry?" he asked. He sat up fast and groaned as the world spun.
"Yeah, what I thought," the werewolf said.
"I didn't have that much today," Sirius complained.
"That bottle was mostly full this morning," Remus replied.
Sirius winced. "Do you have to yell?"
"I'm not yelling, Padfoot. Drink."
"What is it?"
"Sober up potion with a pain relief."
With a grunt, Sirius took it and threw his head back, downing the potion in one go. "Bloody hell! It tastes like Snivellus's shorts."
Remus rose an eyebrow. "Do I want to know?"
"Sod off," Sirius retorted.
Remus quirked a small grin before growing serious. "Are you better?"
Sirius rubbed his eyes. "Yeah."
"Good. I talked with Kingsley. Harry wasn't home when the dementors attacked. I don't know where he is, but they found Petunia," Remus told him.
Sirius looked up. "Was Harry with her? I didn't get the impression they liked him much."
Remus shook his head. "No. Her car crashed about a mile away from the house. It looks like she had gone into town to shop. The dementors must have found her and kissed her before they found the house."
Sirius put a hand to his head. The potion was working, but the headache was suddenly sharp enough to have his right eye twitch. It passed within seconds before he started to feel better. "Where's Harry?"
"I don't know, Padfoot. I went up to his room and found these under his floorboard," Remus said, handing a stack of letters to Sirius. "Moody must have missed them when they did a sweep of the house earlier because Harry had lined the space with lead."
"Knew he had some Marauder blood in him." Sirius took them. It was a stack of muggle envelopes with stamps and muggle paper inside of them. They were all from Hermione to Harry. "Love notes?"
"Not really, but I think they do like each other. I haven't told anyone else, but Harry was supposed to meet her today," Remus told him.
The relief that went through Sirius had him grin. "So, he is shagging her," he said rather proudly.
Remus rolled his eyes. "Will you listen, you mangy mutt!"
"Who are you calling mangy, you shaggy wolf," Sirius retorted.
Remus slapped his palm off Sirius's forehead. Sirius winced and put a hand to his head. The pain relief dulled the pain, but it was still there. "That hurt, you bloody twat."
"Then shut up and I won't do it again. Harry was meeting Hermione and her mother. They had an appointment at the Swiss Embassy in London. They talked about how to get hold of you if he was given asylum and how to get you there," Remus informed him.
Sirius blinked a few times. "He ran?"
"He is looking for asylum. He's still hurt and confused after what happened at the end of the Triwizard. He killed a few people, Padfoot. He stopped the resurrection ritual, but still had to face off against a half-formed horror. He told Hermione he wants out, from what I can find in those letters. She's brilliant. Maybe even more so than Lily. She's the one that suggested lining the hiding spot with lead as it absorbs magic almost as well as cold iron. He's not running. He's trying to find a safe haven and Hermione is helping him," Remus told him.
Sirius shut his eyes. It was something that James had started to hint at before that night. He was worried about Lily and Harry. Sirius thought it stupid to run. Remus had said it was a sensible move. "Ok, so he went to the Swiss Embassy. He didn't come back?"
"Obviously. I think he left those behind so you could know what happened to him," Remus said.
Sirius looked at his best mate. "What do you mean?"
"He took everything else of importance to him. The cloak, the map, his wand, his money pouch, his broom and a few other things, but left everything else behind. All his books, trunk, notes, clothes, Hedwig's cage. He wasn't planning on coming back, but you can tell he cares about you in those letters. If I was you, I would find my way to him," Remus said. "Hermione sent him that one letter you sent to her. He knows that Dumbledore was keeping anyone else from contacting him. If their plans work, you can be freed."
Sirius looked stupidly at his friend. "But leave England?"
"Can you tell me this house isn't killing you? You'll be with Harry if everything works out."
"But I'll be in prison if it doesn't."
"Since when does a Marauder care about the consequences?" Remus enquired.
After a moment, the mischievous gleam that Sirius had as a younger man came back to his eyes. "I need to escape."
-oOo-
August 10, 1995London, England
It was a Thursday. Rotgut knew it was a Thursday as his nest mate had packed him cave bat skewers with mushrooms and tomatoes. She always made those on Wednesday evenings as that was when the fresh deliveries of surface vegetables were made to the deep caverns where the miners and crafts goblins worked.
Today he had been drafted to go to the upper levels. There was a big kerfuffle happening on the upper tiers that had his foreman nervous and many others feeling the unease amongst the ones that had come to the deep dark to retrieve extra help.
When they arrived in a three-cart train behind two other trains, they were ordered to get out. "Don't pocket anything that isn't yours and make sure every knut makes it to the cart," the large foreman barked at them.
He noticed that a few of the goblins in the nice surface suits were bloodied and made to work like the labourers. He shared a grin with the goblin next to him. Those up here had worked their way out of the mines, or had family that worked in the more profitable jobs in the surface vaults and bank. One of the foremen cracked his whip at the banker. The goblin winced, then snarled at the foreman.
"Don't snarl at me, traitor," the foreman growled with malice.
Rotgut looked at his companion, who gave a toothy grin. This could be an opportunity to get a more comfortable situation.
"I am no traitor," the banker goblin snarled.
"You sold secrets of clients," the foreman angrily said, then his whip was whistling through the air and the banker hissed as he fell to his knees. "You are a traitor and thief."
A few around them hissed. To be called thief was a deathly insult.
"Move along," their foreman ordered.
Rotgut moved into the vault. It was one of the largest vaults he had seen. A dozen goblins were filling bags, crating up artefacts and calling out figures or items to three account managers recording everything in thick tomes. Rotgut was put in line with the crew moving the bags to the carts. He was wondering why they didn't use extension bags or vault portkeys to move the hoard to another vault or branch. He got his answer when he walked out of the vault and to the cart train at the front of the line.
He couldn't keep the sneer off his face when he saw four of the small things. They all had long white beards, rounded cheeks, brightly coloured costumes and held themselves as though they were far superior to any goblin. Outside of wizards, the blighters where their largest competition and known to be corruptors of magic and craftsmanship with their automatons and inventions.
Gnomes!
Any self-respecting goblin hated gnomes.
The little men, about three feet tall, were overlooking the goblins piling the coins and artefacts onto the carts.
"How much longer?" one of the stinky gnomes asked in the sacred tongue of his kind.
The bankers standing with them looked very displeased. "It takes time to do this without magic. Maybe another five hours to clear out all the vaults."
Rotgut's eyes grew a little wide. He thought there was maybe two hours of work left in the vault he had seen. How much more did they have to clear out?
"My clients are paying a premium to get this done as soon as possible," the gnome said. Rotgut watched the thing pull out a golden watch and look at it. "Our ship is cleared to leave at six o'clock tonight and it's already ten-forty-two. It will take us an hour to load the ship."
"If they allowed us to take the automatons, we could be done by now," one of the other gnomes said.
The banker dealing with the blighters snarled. "Those monstrosities will never be allowed down here."
The first gnome looked to be frowning under his beard. "If we are late, we will enact the penalty clauses."
This time the banker bared his teeth as he spoke through them. "This will be done on time, gnome."
"Rotgut, what's going on? This is the Potter vault," Bonegnasher asked in a whisper from behind him.
Almost every goblin knew of the top ten vault holders in Gringotts. He hadn't noticed the name as he went in the door. He had been enjoying the whipping the disgraced banker had been getting. "I don't know."
It was almost two hours before the last of the contents of the vault was carried out. Rotgut had one end of a large crate as Bonegnasher had the other end.
"Very good. Get this top side and begin the transport. Edelshine, go with the cargo," the gnome with the watch ordered.
"Will do, boss," a younger gnome said.
Their foreman growled as they placed the wooden box on the cart. "The blighters don't trust us."
"Can you trust anyone that loves a machine more than a woman?" Rotgut asked.
His foreman snorted. "Too right. Back to the cart. We have two more vaults to empty."
"Where is all this going?" Bonegnasher asked.
Their foreman snarled. "Switzerland."
The disgraced banker was forced to sit next to them. The disgusting goblin was moaning and sitting gingerly so its torn open shirt and back didn't rest on the seat. The smell of fresh blood was causing his own instincts to rise.
"We are going to enjoy your flesh in the arena," a goblin behind them said.
The banker sat up, growling. "I only ever served the Potter accounts faithfully. It was my gerg that stole everything. I'll gut him before I die."
"I hear the king wants to gut you himself," another said.
The banker bared his teeth. "I will defend my honour, swine."
Rotgut didn't hesitate. He drew his knife and slipped it between the ribs of the goblin next to him. To let even an assistant, a gerg, that you were responsible for steal was a sin against their kind. The banker goblin gave a gurgling sound as it tried to dislodge the knife his side. Rotgut reached over and yanked the keys off its neck. He growled a challenge to anyone else around him. He had seen the opportunity and took it.
When the banker goblin stopped moving, Rotgut flipped the restraint latch and then pushed the dead body off the cart. "Anyone want to challenge me?"
No one moved to stop him.
When the cart stopped before a dragon, he knew they were before the top four secure vaults in the building. He got off, making a show of putting the keys over his neck. The foreman saw it and didn't say a word as Rotgut walked over to the other bankers. They looked at him, then the keys around his neck, before nodding.
Rotgut could tell that two of the four master keys wouldn't work after this day, but the other two accounts would get him top side, which was a whole different fight than the pits he was used too.
-oOo-
Chapter 2-oOo-
August 11, 1995Wiltshire, England
A photographer had caught the giant mugglish contraption as it had glided over Diagon Alley. Its shadow cast the alley and surrounding area into an unnatural darkness for late afternoon. She couldn't help but think that it looked like a giant cigars that Lucius used to enjoy so much. She hated the stink of those things, and hated seeing the unnatural thing that had invaded their world.
Looking down at the article, she let a slight crinkle to her mouth show her distaste of the thing.
-o-
Daily Prophet
GNOMES INVADE DIAGON ALLEY!
By Roger Wilco
Rumours had started to circulate around Diagon Alley that gnomes had been seen at Gringotts early in the day. This was odd in the sense that gnomes don't usually visit in England, having been driven out by Wizengamot legislation in the mid-1800's when they attempted to challenge the goblins for the banking sector. For those that may remember, that led to the Goblin Insurrection of 1852. Thus, it was even more shocking when the gnomes where found to be inside Gringotts.
Crowds gathered as the giant thing approached Diagon Alley. A few Muggleborn were heard calling it an air plimpy. It seemed to be in violation of the Statute of Secrecy and several ministry laws, causing senior ministry officials and a contingent of Aurors to appear.
An argument broke out between the gnomes and the ministry officials, which only ended when gnomish automatons descended from the air plimpy. This almost started a fight until the ministry officials had the Aurors stand down. It would appear that the ICW has approved the gnomes to operate all the devises as they have been heavily enchanted to prevent muggles from seeing anything.
While all this was happening, it was almost missed that goblins had started to move vast amounts of crates and money backs into the alley. As some gnomes piloted the automatons to gather the piles, others guarded the steps of the bank, not allowing anyone in or out. Whispers and speculations were heard all about the alley as it was obvious that a large amount of wealth was being removed from the bank and taken by the gnomes. Given the large piles, it can only be speculated that many vaults were emptied. And given the reaction of the hostile goblins, they were not pleased by the transaction.
The Daily Prophet does not yet know what occurred, but the staff is determined to find out. It cannot be healthy for our economy to loose so much wealth at one time, not to mention who it is effecting…
-o-
Narcissa disliked the goblins. Seeing the mugglish things the gnomes used was even worse. She would need to talk to her friends in the Wizengamot about supporting more legislation to keep those filthy things from their world. The ICW can't overrule sovereign rule.
As she looked at the other pictures showing the automatons and some of the wealth being transferred, she stopped at a picture on the inside cover. Looking at the picture, she felt something niggling at the back of her mind. A memory from when she was young bubbled up as she saw a glass case with a set of armour and weapons. It was a set of armour adorned in furs and leather. The fur was rather distinctive. In her mind, the black and white picture became an orangey umber with black spots ringed by white. A spear about four feet long with a large dark metal head was to left side and a long, oval shaped shield with feathers on the top was to the right of the armour. Across the chest was a rod, wrapped in leather strips and with feathers dangling from one end.
She blinked a few times, knowing she had seen that before.
Trying to think back, she had a vague memory of happier times. Times when she was innocent. Times before Bellatrix had started to succumb to the Black madness that affected many of them. A time when she had three sisters. It was a time when her bigger sister, Andromeda, would let her sleep with her when Narcissa was young and had nightmares. It was a time before her beloved sister had become a blood traitor and broken their mother's heart. It was a time when the three of them were laughing as they played hide-and-seek in a large house…
It came to her.
She knew that set of armour.
She knew that rod was a magical focus for the tribal person that had once wielded it.
She could remember her grandfather telling her a tale of an expedition led by him to capture a diamond mine from some savages and how it had helped the Black family's fortune.
Her mouth went dry.
She knew which vault had been emptied.
She looked through the other pictures and the article. Given the amount of bags, crates and other items that the gnomes had put into their air plimpy, she had the unsettling feeling that any vault associated with the Blacks had been emptied.
As her shock wore off, anger grew.
She had always accused the goblins of being greedy, stealing blighters, even though grandfather had taught her to treat them well because of the power they held guarding their wealth. Now, she felt the anger towards the gnomes stealing her family's wealth.
Getting up, she marched purposely towards Lucius's study. The fool had gotten himself killed almost two months ago and she was having a hard time unravelling all his schemes and machinations. If she and Draco were lucky, they would have enough money left to live comfortably for the rest of their lives once she won her challenge for him to get his inheritance from her family and resolved all the poor investments and business deals her late husband had made.
She had mourned Lucius at first. Narcissa had loved the fool. Then she found out what he had done with the Malfoy wealth and her dowry, and that mourning soon turned to hate for the man. How had she been so blind for all these years? She had been taken in by his suave demeanour, and his fervour to see the purebloods rule over Britain. Now she was starting to rue the day she had begged her father and grandfather to sign that betrothal.
At one time she wanted to be a pampered princess. She wanted a dozen children. She wanted a grand mansion that was always filled with people that envied her. She had gotten two of her three wishes. Draco had been a small miracle after a half-dozen Healers had helped them conceive. No one knew why Lucius was so barren since his father had sired three sons, but she had to suspect now that it had to do with that damnable mark he had taken from his Master. No one that had taken the mark had sired more than one child, many having no children at all, and she knew the Blacks were not a barren family. No, every witch she knew with Black blood in her had two or more children. She had more than a dozen cousins at one time. Now, there was only one child left from her large family, and he didn't even have the Black name.
Throwing the doors open to the study, she stopped to see a small pile of letters on the desk. Scowling, she was sure it was more of the bastard's hair brained schemes come to roost and would undoubtedly cost her more galleons. How the man had managed to keep them afloat all these years was beyond her as three out of every four deals seemed to fall apart. He must have been doing other deals on the side or working in the black market as well, but he had been so secretive she didn't know who to talk to or what was going on. It didn't help that his two biggest business partners had died that night, and most of his other associates wouldn't talk with her.
As she sat at the desk, her heart started to sink as she saw three letters with Gringotts seals on the top of the pile. Those never boded well. With the pictures in the paper, she had no doubts she would like what they said even less than normal.
Her father had always said it was better to find out the damage to be able to figure out a path forward, so she grabbed the first envelope. After looking it over, she shut her eyes for a moment to calm herself. It wasn't as bad as she had feared. Three of their properties had been bought. She had lost the rent, but made nearly twenty thousand galleons on the deal. It was part of her late husband's estate that she had been forced to sell off.
The second letter wasn't as pleasant. Two loans had been called in. With penalties because the investment was lost, she was down nearly eighteen thousand galleons. Given other news lately, being slightly ahead was a win. Just not the type she needed. Until recently, spending two thousand galleons in a month wouldn't have been a hard thing to do.
The last letter had her turning white.
The current heir of the Blacks decided to close all vaults and call in any deal that was backed by their wealth. She couldn't understand. As far as she knew, Draco was the current heir. As she read down, her hand started to shake.
"This can't be. Aunt Walburga disowned him," she acidly remarked.
She started to feel bile rise in her throat. As she had feared from the paper, the trust vault left to Draco had been dissolved and her dowry was being recalled as violations to the betrothal contract.
Through her fear, a new rage at her late husband roiled in her. "I'm going to exhume his ashes and burn them again," she said in a cold fury.
She needed to get to Gringotts to understand what all this meant. She had been relying on Draco's trust vault from her grandfather to finish paying for Hogwarts and his other expenses. If the goblins recalled her dowry, then the Malfoy vault would be nearly empty.
Her fury at her late husband had their one remaining house elf scurrying to repair the damage she left behind as she blasted the door off the hinges as she left the study and stalked towards her room. "Tilly, I am going out. Get Draco up and fed. When I get back, we need to have a talk."
"Yes, Mistress Malfoy," the small elf squeaked as it tried to get the door back on its hinges before repairing it.
-oOo-
August 12, 1995Altdorf, Switzerland
Harry stepped outside the chalet that the ministry had provided him. Once he had been given asylum, it had been a few days before they could get him a portkey out of the United Kingdoms. In that time, Sirius had been able to join him. He felt bad the man was now in a prison awaiting a trial, but Harry been able to see him a few times. The man looked much better, and the jail in Zurich was much nicer than what he heard about Azkaban. The only fact keeping Sirius sane in his new confinement was that he had a trial date set for September fifth, and he had been able to pass the regency of his house to Harry, who had used it to get both their wealth's' out of England.
Once outside, he took in a deep breath of the mountain air. The weather wasn't that much different from Scotland that first week or two they were back at school, meaning it was comfortable for him. The chalet was in a small wizarding enclave on the side of a mountain that overlooked the valley and town of Altdorf. All around him towards mountains of incredible height. He had never been around anything like it, but found he really enjoyed it.
Looking up slope, he could make out a castle at the edge of the enclave. The castle of Grenobles was much different than Hogwarts. Where Hogwarts had been a traditional Scottish castle made of grey stone, round towers, barbicans and long galleries. Hogwarts was impressive, but it hadn't been made to with stand sieges, looking more fanciful than practical. The castle of Grenobles was distinctly more German and practical in origin.
A few square towers surrounded a large central square tower. Building with slate roofs and white plastered walls dominated the centre of the outer walls and fortifications. At one time, it was the lord's castle of the valley, made to protect and protect power to muggles. Now it was the seat of the main school in Switzerland.
"Guten Morgen, Herr Potter. Heute ist ein schöner Tag," a man in a smart uniform that was more like muggle uniform with dark blue trousers, a belt with a few pouches, a baton, wand holder and an old fashion pistol. A dark-blue dyed dragon hide vest replaced what might have been a Kevlar vest.
"Guten Morgen," Harry replied. He had been assign an Auror bodyguard while his asylum and citizenship application was still being processed. Knowing what was after him, he was happy to have the man. "How are you today, Auror Morgan?"
"Very good, sir."
His grumbling stomach let him know he hadn't eaten breakfast yet.
The man nodded towards a building. "Are you going for breakfast again at the Liedhogan?"
"Care to join me?" Harry offered.
"I'll just wait outside," Auror Morgan replied. Harry shrugged. He had offered the three different guards he had cycling through each time, but they had all declined. That was another difference. The Aurors here were much more professional than back in Britain.
After looking around, he headed towards the inn just inside the gates of the old walled settlement that was protected by the castle above them. Even though the wizards of Switzerland were much better integrated into the muggle world, a few settlements like this allows areas of protection and places where magic could be used without fear.
As he made his way towards the inn, he noticed that a zeppelin was making its way over the lake at the far end of the valley. That had been a bit of a surprise. Every few days one of the large airships would doc at a tall metal tower just that reminded him of the Eifel Tower outside the walls of the enclave. He had watched one on the first day he had been here and could only think of the activity of an old sailing ship.
Local crafts, crops and other trade were loaded as necessities and goods required by the local populous were unloaded. The gnomes operated a fleet of the giant blimps that flew between most of the surrounding countries. If the gnomes had a presence, the ships flew there. It explained by countries like the United Kingdoms didn't have such services, as the gnomes had been essentially banished. He also found it interesting that the countries the gnomes operated that goblins often didn't. He couldn't remember Binns talking about it, but Harry was sure there was a reason. He would have to find out why at some point.
He was hoping to get a letter saying that the transfer had gone well. He had contracted with the gnomes for four vaults in their main bank in Zurick and for them to handle his investments. He had been surprised to understand he had portfolio. One in which he had instructed them to get him out of anything in Britain as soon as they could and invest where they thought appropriate. He felt the much friendlier people would manage his money well, and had offered him rates that were half that of the goblins for the same services. He hoped that was a good sign that made better returns since the gnomes didn't seem to lack for wealth. The large zeppelin approaching Altdorf was proof of that. The dozens of robots the gnomes used when it docked was also a sign of their wealth and ingenuity.
After asking for breakfast from the inn owner, Harry sat in a booth where he could watch the zeppelin dock. As he watched the gnomes open the door and drop the long gangway into the cavernous interior, he was starting to think he had taken the wrong courses. To adopt muggle technology, and create new things, with runes and branches of technomancy not available at Hogwarts had him intrigued. Auror Morgan had told him the gnomes were some of the foremost experts in technomancy, even if most of their inventions still used steam and looked more like a fanciful interpretation of what a Victorian muggle would have thought was possible. Even with that, the gnomes and other magicals around here used more modern technologies, like the television that was in the sitting room of the small chalet he was in. Once he had his approval, he was going to have to find his own place. One large enough for Sirius, and potentially Hermione, to stay at since Grenobles did not do boarding. All the students went home in the evenings and weekends, more like the muggle schools he had grown up with.
When he was done, Harry went outside to find Auror Morgan talking with an attractive woman in dress and light jacket. In her hands was a folder. "Herr Potter, this is Frau Fetsch from the Department of Law."
Harry moved to shake her hand. "Good morning, Frau Fetsch. I was told you would be by later today."
She took his hand in a weak hand shake. "Good morning, Herr Potter. I was trying to get an early start on all the paperwork that needs to be completed. Do you have anywhere we can talk in private."
"The chalet the consulate has given me is open," Harry offered.
Not long later he sat at the table in the small kitchen. Auror Morgan was standing at the doorway as the woman made a few piles of paperwork. Harry still loved magic. There was far more paper and parchment work than the thin folder could have held otherwise.
"To start with the easy stuff, this pile is your accepted petition for asylum and a residence permit for the canton of Uri. If you want to move to a different canton, then you will have to be responsible and it will reset the requirements for applying for full citizenship with a petition," the woman said.
Harry took the pile. "How long do I need to wait to apply for citizenship if I stay?"
"You can get a C permit after five years, and then apply for full citizenship," Frau Fetsch told him.
Harry looked through the documents. That was one thing Hermione had told him. He should always look at any form. She had had also told him he should get a solicitor. It was something Mrs Granger had told him as well, but he didn't know where. After making sure the information was correct as far as he could tell, he signed the documents.
"Do you have anything about my godfather?" Harry queried.
"We have assigned him a lawyer, an Herr Erouche from the public defenders. If you want to find a different attorney, you are welcome too." She searched through a pile of parchments. "Here is his information. I assume he will reach out to you soon."
Harry nodded, taking the paper.
"Next, I have your application to Grenobles. They have been unable to get a copy of your transcripts from Hogwarts. If you are amenable, the headmaster would like to schedule a series of exams and evaluations next week to determine your class level," Frau Fetsch told him.
Harry snorted. "Figures," he commented darkly.
"Excuse me?"
"Sorry, Frau Hetsch. I was afraid this might happen. If I can have the schedule, I'll do whatever is needed," Harry replied.
She nodded and handed him a few sheafs. "This is the schedule and what you are expected to be tested on."
Harry took them and gave a cursory glance. Given the way he had to learn the last few years, he didn't see any spells that caused him concern. He was worried about the Runes and Artithmancy, considering he had never taken the courses before.
Looking at the schedule, he was determined to do well. Hermione would be joining him in the week after next and if he could show her high marks on the tests, he was sure she would be proud of him.
"Is there anything else, Frau Hetsch?"
"That is most of what I had. I would like to meet again next week to see how you are doing," she answered.
Harry nodded. "Thank you. I need to find a book store to revise for this."
She gave a smile. "Auror Morgan can help you find what you need."
-oOo-
August 13, 1995London, England
"Dolores, get Creswell in here right now!" Fudge ordered. This thing with the goblins and gnomes had gone far enough and the last two days had been as bad of a headline as the one last week about the Boy-Who-Lived being missing and assumed dead by rogue dementors. He was being persecuted by the press, not to mention the daily protests in the lobby. He was desperately trying to hold onto his tenure as Minister of Magic, but was finding it hard with three major debacles in the last two months.
The pink clad woman had bags under her eyes, having put in as many hours as he had in the last few weeks. "Cornelius, I really don't think we should cave to these demands. We need to find out whose gold the gnomes stole."
Fudge moved to the window. He was spinning his bowler hat in his hands. Below he could already see the gathering protestors. Dozens were holding signs as they congregated around the Statue of Brethren. The goblin on the statue was regarding the wizard in the way a creature should. It was not threatening rebellion.
"Damn it, Dolores. The people want to know what is happening. Creswell is the Goblin Laison. Get him in here and get me Bones. I want those people out of the atrium," Fudge demanded. With a reproachful look from the woman for being used a gopher, she left his office. Cornelius turned to look out a the atrium again, his bowler hat turning faster in his hands.
Nothing had gone right since that night of the last task of the Triwizard Tournament. The boy had won the tournament after claiming there had been an unplanned addition to the task. Dumbledore was claiming Lord Thingy had come back, but Potter wasn't saying. Worse was the scene found in a graveyard in Little Hangleton by Department of Underage Magical Use. When a team had reported there after the sensors had detected a lot of magic by some unknown person, they had found a blood bath. Six dead purebloods, three others that were injured enough that two of them were still in St Mungo's, and a cracks stone cauldron that had the Unspeakables all excited. Croaker was putting in more requests for funds on a daily basis and he didn't have the power to stop whatever they were doing.
Looking for a scapegoat, he had worked with the Daily Prophet to leak that Potter had been the one responsible for the massacre and Dumbledore was a senile old man. There was no way Lord Thingy was back!
Bones had been ordered not to say anything and shut down her investigation. She had fought him. The argument had ended with her handing in her resignation. Scrimgeour was much more pliable and had issued the report that the people had been massacred, but it was unknown by whom. But instead of focusing on that, most of the voting public were focusing on the death of Diggory and Krum inside the maze.
Given that every underaged witch or wizard was at Hogwarts, except for Harry Potter that night, there could be no other that could have ambushed and killed those fine, upstanding citizens. He disregarded the education board reports that only about forty-percent of underage wizards attended the school. He also disregarded the reports that Hogwarts had severely fallen behind many ICW standards, which was why most parents either home-schooled or sent their children out of country. Dumbledore and his pureblood backers… uhm, friends… said it was the best school, so it had to be.
With all this bad news, he needed to cast the blame elsewhere, but Potter was now out of the running with him missing and his family kissed by creatures the ministry was supposed to have command over.
He was brought out of fuming by shouting outside his door. He heard Dolores and rolled his eyes. What was the woman doing this time?
Looking down, he was thankful the windows of his office blocked out sound as it looked like the protestors had started to chant something. The noise outside his office grew. When he heard a muffled explosion, he dove for his desk. It was probably a good thing he did as only a few seconds later the door to his office was thrown off its hinges. It spun through the room, made a cracking noise as it hit his solid oak desk then smashed through the magically reinforced windows. The chanting stopped as people screamed.
"Don't kill her!" someone shouted from the receiving area.
"I am the undersecretary…" Dolores's scream was cut off and receiving area grew quiet as the disturbance in the atrium was in full swing. A second later someone shouted, "Clear!"
"Clear!" a few more responded.
He moved to pear over his desk. Dolores was slumped against the door frame to his office. There was blood on her left arm. Three Aurors were approaching the clearly stunned woman with wands drawn. One of them cast another stunner as another started to summon her hand and other items off her.
Shakily he stood up. "What is the meaning of this?"
"Minister, stay down. We are unsure if the danger is over," one of the Aurors told him.
He bristled. This was beyond the pale. "I am Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic. I demand you tell me what is going on."
"Dolores Umbridge is under arrest for suspicion of murder and attempted murder."
"What… she isn't… you can't… Where is Scrimgeour!" he ordered.
The grizzled man came into view. "Morning Minister. I'll have this door and your window repaired in a few."
"Scrimgeour, what is going on! Dolores didn't do anything," he told the man.
"Get her out of here," Scrimgeour said as he stepped into the office. Ropes were now binding her. One of the Aurors levitated her.
"That is going on," he demanded once more.
Scrimgeour sat in one of the chairs before his desk. "I am making an arrest in the Potter case, like you directed me too."
Cornelius mouth moved a few times. "But Dolores! I'll just have to pardon her for whatever she did."
Scrimgeour leaned forward in his seat. "I wouldn't recommend that."
"What do you mean?" Cornelius had lost some of his key allies and couldn't afford to lose more.
"I am trying trying fend off an insurrection in the Auror office. Three aurors have handed in their resignation since you sacked Amelia last week and twenty more are threatening it. If I don't deliver some real justice, you will not have an Auror force left in a week," Scrimgeour told him.
Cornelius scoffed. "It's only twenty Aurors. Just increase the recruiting."
The look Scrimgeour gave him had Cornelius fidgeting with his hat. "Minister, do you know how many Aurors are left after the cuts to the department over the last decade?"
"Hundreds. Why bother me with these details? Release Dolores. We can't any more controversy right now," Cornelius ordered.
There was a preganant pause before Scrimgeour stood up. "If you order me to do this, Minister, I will hand in my resignation as well. For your information, in nineteen-eighty-one, when You-Know-Who was defeated, we had two-hundred and fourteen Aurors. In nineteen-eighty-four, when you implemented the first cuts, we had two-hundred and fifty-six as we were building up to our full levels. As of June of this year, there are forty-six Aurors with only three in the training program. You figure out what will happen if you lose half your force."
Cornelius mouth opened and closed like a fish for a moment. "Surely not. You must mean there are two-hundred and forty-six."
Scrimgeour shook his head. "Forty-six. I had fifty-three before Bones walked out. Do to recent laws and budgetary restraints, I can only bring the force up to fifty. Good day, minister. I have a case to prepare."
Cornelius swallowed. "At least get rid of the people in the atrium!" he yelled after Scrimgeour. A chant had started again about hanging him.
"Can't. I have half my force in Diagon trying to keep the goblins from rebelling," Scrimgeor yelled back. "Hello, Creswell."
A middle aged man looked into the office. "What happened here?"
Cornelius scowled. "What is it, Creswell?"
"Another missive from the goblins. They are demanding to meet with you," the man replied.
"Not right now. You deal with it," Cornelius ordered.
"I really recommend you meet with them, minister. They are getting rather testy with the wizards demanding they take back all the eviction notices that were sent out yesterday," Creswell said.
Cornelius looked at him stupidly. "What eviction notices?"
"Didn't you read the report I gave your secretary last night?"
"Dolores handles all that."
Creswell sighed. "That explains why the goblins are so upset then. Minister, you need to meet with the goblins. Fifteen business in Diagon Alley, including the Daily Prophet and Flourish and Blotts received notices of eviction effecting the end of this month. More than two dozen apartments are also effected. Hogsmead has almost as many eviction notices. People are upset and I think Undersecretary Dolores told the goblins to stop bothering people and get back to business or the ministry would step in to stop them."
He couldn't stop the groan that escaped his lips. "Merlin. She didn't?"
Creswell put a folder on his desk. "The letter given to me today was just short of a declaration of war."
"But… but… how? Who?"
"I'm not sure, but I think it had something to do with the gnomes," Creswell told him.
Cornelius really bad summer and day just became much worse.
-oOo-
The same day…Hogwarts, Scotland
Ten days. It had been ten days since Harry disappeared. Once again Albus was trying to get the blood tracker to work, but it would just keep spinning. That was it ever did now. Spin. At one time the arrow would point in the direction of the boy, but now it wouldn't.
Frustrated, he swept his hand across his desk, sending the blood tracker and other instruments flying to the floor. He violently pushed himself away from his desk, send his chair falling backwards and crashing to the floor before he started to pace his office.
"Where in Merlin's name has that boy gotten to?" he asked his silent office.
Typically Fawkes would be trilling his soothing song to keep him from getting this upset, but the bird had gone through a burning several days ago and was still too young to do much. He was also happy he had silenced the paintings. The last thing he needed was another jab from Phineas Black about loosing his pawn. Harry wasn't a pawn. He was the boy that would defeat Tom. Albus was doing all he could to guide the boy in the direction he needed to go.
When the gargoyle over the door announce, "Minerva McGonagall," Albus stopped and took a breath. He quickly righted his chair and moved to window. It was better for him to appear in control. He didn't need his staff more agitated then they already were.
When the door opened, Minerva immediately said, "Albus, its Grenobles again."
He closed his eyes to keep his temper in. "What does the Headmaster want this time?"
"It's not directly from them. Grizelda has forwarded a complaint to her about not receiving several transcripts and other requested information," she told him.
"I have made it very clear that Harry Potter will not be attending," Albus said, unable to keep some of his irritation out of his voice.
"If we don't find the boy then he won't be attending Hogwarts either," she snapped at him. Minerva had been quite vocal in her anger at him and Mundungus for allowing all this to happen.
"We are doing everything we can to locate Harry, Minerva. Every available Order member is out there," he replied.
"Potter should never been left with Muggles to begin with, Albus. They had no way to protect him from something like this," she retorted.
He took in a long breath and let it out. "The wards that I established around his relatives house should have kept any dark creature or Death Eater from approaching the house. I don't understand why the wards didn't work."
"And the rumours that there was evidence of abuse in the house?" she questioned.
He sighed. He knew that Harry was having a hard life. It was a sacrifice that was needed to be made to keep him alive. He had just assumed that it was a hard love. "I do not believe his Petunia would have been abusive to her nephew. You yourself said she spoiled her own child."
"Her own child yes. Nymphadora said they found a blood stained matress in the ground floor closet, multiple locks on the door to his room and a cat flap. That does not sound like spoiling," she angrily remarked.
He let out a sigh. Not for the first time Albus was speculating that Harry had run. "Has anyone been able to find miss Granger yet?"
"As far as we know she and her parents are still on vacation. We don't know where they went. She didn't tell Mister Weasley," she said.
"Very good. If you would leave me to continue my own search for Harry," he said.
"Albus, you have to respond to Grenobles. I can't send another mail refusing the information they are asking for," she replied.
"Very well. I will contact the headmaster," he replied.
"Albus, we need to find Potter. I can't stand to loose another Gryffindor this year," she remarked.
He was about to blow her off, but something about her tone caught his attention. "What do you mean another Gryffindor?"
"I have told you many times, Miss Granger applied to Grenobles. I received her official withdrawal from Hogwarts last week when students were to return their acceptance for the fall term," she said, sounding exasperated.
He blinked at her a few times. He had been so concerned with finding Harry, and not believing that he would actually leave England, that he had not put it together. "It is Harry's records that Grenobles is requesting, correct?"
"Yes, but I sent them Granger's and Longbottom's transcripts as well. I have had to send out twenty-three students information to other schools this summer. I gave you the list of the eight that have already withdrawn."
"Yes. I believe you did," he said distractedly. If Granger had withdrawn and she was going elsewhere, what would the odds be that Harry would follow her. "Did Miss Granger apply to any other schools?"
"Only Grenobles, but she did request a copy of her own. It is possible she copied it and sent it elsewhere," she replied.
"And did any other schools request Harry's transcripts?" he asked.
Her lips pursed. "No."
"Did you give him a copy?"
"No. You wouldn't sign off on the request," she said. "Albus, you aren't thinking that Potter found a way to get to Grenobles?"
He had a pensive look. "I am unsure, but it could be possible. I will contact the headmaster right away."
Minerva looked ready to leave this time, but was caught off guard like him as a silvery linx burst into the office. A deep man's voice echoed out from the patronus. "Assistance needed immediately in Diagon Alley. A fight between goblins and wizards at Gringotts."
Minerva paled some
Albus felt a chill go through him. "Call up the Order. I will be in Diagon Alley."
"Albus, if there is bloodshed…"
"I know, Minerva. Get the Order. Meet at Headquarters. I will call if I need assistance, otherwise I will come as soon as I can," he ordered. He wanted to call out to Fawkes, but the small, still featherless chick just stared at him. He didn't remember it taking this long before for Fawkes to grow back.
-oOo-
END