Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter does not belong to me. I just play in the wonderful beach that fan-fic authors are allowed to use. I do claim the plot and any original characters that show up.
-oOo-
This time on Witch. Wizard. Gnome! : When Harry decides he's had enough, things change. It might be small at first… but start a pebble down a hill and a landslide may soon follow.
This will be a short six part story. Enjoy.
-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 that its smaller size easily fit into a pocket.
Looking up as a train arrived on the platform, he people watched while he waited. 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.
Once she caught sight of him, she smiled and waved. 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 cheek 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 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 King's Cross. "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 tapped 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 King's Cross 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 Wyker 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 Wyker 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 Wyker. I'm told you are accompanied by some others today?" the man said, looking towards him and Hermione.
"I am, Ambassador Wyker. This is my daughter, Hermione, and her friend, Harry Potter."
The man's eyes darted towards his forehead 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 single mirrored 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 questioned, 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 Wyker said.
"I don't like being without my wand," Harry expressed.
"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. "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 Wyker. "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 the schools in Switzerland superior to the three largest schools in Europe," the ambassador said. "Grenobles is my alma mater. My wife and I sent our three there. 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 any more 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 Hogsmeade 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 Hangleton, 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 clear, smoking liquid swirled in the glass as he lazily spun the tumbler 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 had a good taste for good 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 just being. You wouldn't need all day to think up more."
The man sneered at him. He looked ready to respond when the grand poohbah 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's face and the concern on Dora's had him looking at them curiously as they followed Dumbledore. 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 Dumbledore 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. Edeline, 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-
Next time on Switzerland or Bust: No one expects the Gnomish Inquisition
