CHAPTER – 14 THE VEELA ACCOUNTANT
Harry sighed.
After a momentous meeting with the Gringotts Overlord, he found himself seated in another stark room, although larger than the Black Overseer's office. The door outside bore the inscription 'Parkinson, Potter, Rosier,' indicating that this office served all three families.
It felt strange to think that he was sharing his Account Overseer with the likes of Pansy Parkinson's family. He was also reasonably sure there was a Rosier on the Slytherin Quidditch Team. What was with all the Slytherins?
"The Parkinson and Rosier families are Ancient, much like the Potters," his godfather helpfully explained.
"But they're not nobility," Harry deduced. "So they're grouped together?"
"Well, yes. Mainly because they can't afford the unnecessary expense of hiring a personal Overseer—"
"Unnecessary, are we?" a sharp voice interrupted from the doorway. Harry turned his head to see a goblin—no, that same goblin—entering the room. "I wonder if Overseer Ripclaw is aware of your thoughts, Lord Black."
"He isn't, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't inform him," Sirius retorted, dripping with sarcasm. "You are—"
"I am Griphook, Overseer for the Parkinson, Potter, and Rosier family accounts, and the unfortunate goblin who has to endure wizards bickering and wasting time, precious time that could be better spent acquiring gold."
Harry decided to speak up. "You might not remember—"
"That I was the goblin who escorted you to your vault on your first visit to Gringotts?" Griphook replied, his small face resembling that of a shark on the hunt. "As you may have already gathered, scion of House Potter, you are quite famous, even among goblins."
"I've heard," Harry muttered. "About my inheritance..."
Griphook raised a single finger, displaying a penchant for dramatic gestures that surpassed even Ripclaw's. "Worry not, we will get to that. However, before we do, I have in my possession the rather surprising results of your inheritance test. We need to go over them first, and then decide whether you wish to bear the..." he flashed a wider smile, "...unnecessary expense of hiring a dedicated Overseer for both your accounts."
Sirius visibly bristled at the mention of expenses.
"Now then..." Griphook took his seat in a straightforward manner, locking his fingers together and resting his chin upon them. "Shall we determine the future of House Potter now? Or, of course, you are welcome to declare yourself too young and carefree to bother with all this 'banking nonsense' and allow Gringotts to manage your finances as it deems best."
Harry had to muster all his composure to keep from letting his jaw drop. Despite his encounters with the feral Ripclaw and the outright intimidating yet oddly helpful Overlord, this meeting with Griphook was by far the most surreal. There was being blunt, and then there was... whatever this was.
"No—no thank you," Harry replied, gathering his thoughts. "I'd like to discuss it now."
Griphook made an unusual noise in the back of his throat. Harry took it to be the goblin's way of expressing frustration. "Do you acknowledge your rights as an adult, Mr. Potter?"
"I'm fourteen, almost fifteen, if that's what you're asking," Harry offered.
The goblin sighed before opening a particular file on his desk. "I have an affidavit from the Ministry of Magic, certifying you as an adult due to your active participation in the International Triwizard Tournament despite being underage. It is for this reason that you are being tried as an adult in a full Wizengamot courtroom."
Griphook continued with a patient monotone. "If you wish to proceed with this discussion as a child, I will have to reluctantly accommodate it and allow your guardian to be present during the meeting. If you prefer to engage as an adult and Heir Potter, I can have him removed."
Harry was stunned. "I—uh, Sirius stays." He sat up straighter. "But I'd like to handle this as an adult."
He wasn't entirely sure, but something in the goblin's body language seemed to suggest satisfaction. At the very least, Griphook didn't seem inclined to engage in further discussion on the matter.
"As it stands, you currently hold the position of Heir Apparent for the House of Potter. As an adult in the eyes of the Ministry of Magic, you have the ability to exercise your right to ascend to Lord. According to current Wizengamot policy, no Lord under the age of seventeen may take his seat, which is why you will require someone to act as a proxy—"
"I can be his proxy," Sirius interjected.
"Wizard!" Griphook snapped at him. "This is a meeting between House Potter and its Overseer. Your authority as both Heir Potter's godfather and Lord Black is wholly irrelevant. Kindly refrain from speaking further or be removed from my presence."
Sirius fell silent, chastened.
"Ah—" Harry attempted to mediate. "Sirius can be my proxy. I trust him with my life."
Despite avoiding eye contact with his godfather, Harry felt the firm grip on his shoulder that conveyed more than words ever could.
"Very well," Griphook briskly agreed. "Let's not waste any more time or gold and get to the essentials. Here is the summary of your inheritance test, a copy of which has been deposited in the Potter Family Vault, while another has been sent to the Black Family Vault, in light of your status as a scion of Black."
Harry accepted the offered parchment, which bore elegant cursive handwriting so neat that it appeared almost printed. Its contents were highly revealing.
HARRY JAMES POTTER
Heir Apparent to the Ancient House of Potter. [Ascension through James Charlus Potter – Father]
Son to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. [Ascension through Sirius Orion Black – Godfather]
Son to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Greengrass [Ascension through Euphemia Greengrass — Grandmother ]
Heir Apparent to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Peverell. [Ascension through (?) – Magic]
"Greengrass," Sirius remarked. "That's unexpected."
"It is surprising but not unheard of," the goblin commented. "Perhaps Mr. Potter carries enough of his grandmother's blood in him to consider himself a Greengrass, in name if nothing else. In fact, the moment Mr. Potter's lineage was confirmed, Gringotts credited twenty thousand galleons to his trust fund from the Greengrass Vault, as per the Family's Charter."
Harry turned to Sirius, seeking an explanation.
"Old families, especially the Noble and Ancient ones, have certain traits passed down through blood. It seems you've inherited certain traits from your grandmother's bloodline. It doesn't have any substantial significance since you're removed from the main line, but technically, you can consider them family."
"And receive twenty thousand galleons as a one-time trust fund," Griphook added.
"And that," Sirius said, addressing the goblin. "What about his mother? I'd imagine there might be a squib ancestor somewhere in her lineage."
"Wizards, always driven by greed," Griphook muttered before extracting a small parchment from his drawer. "Lily Potter née Evans. Fleamont Potter did commission a standard inheritance test for her after her marriage. The Evans family does exhibit some connections to the Von Hohenheim family, but the link is too tenuous, even in magical terms, for her to claim the Von Hohenheim name."
"I've never heard of that family," Harry admitted, feeling somewhat sheepish.
"Not many have," Griphook replied. "It's a Proto-Germanic lineage that became extinct around the sixteenth century." Griphook looked as uninterested as possible. "A pureblooded House, but one without Ancient or Noble status. The Von Hohenheim House does hold a single vote in the Wizengamot, attributed to its most renowned member, Philippus Von Hohenheim, better known as Paracelsus. Order of Merlin, First Class."
Harry looked up from the parchment, his gaze filled with disbelief. "So my mother could have been a pureblood?"
"No," Sirius corrected, "even on the off chance that she could have inherited the name, she'd have still counted as a Muggle-born, just as you're still a half-blood, kiddo. Claiming descent from older families is not unexpected, but more often than not, the connection is so tenuous that the Family Charter disqualifies them from taking the Name."
"But then the Peverells—"
"Are a whole different kettle of fish," Sirius replied, sliding into the role of a teacher. "When nobility is involved, all established doctrines get thrown out the window."
"There's more to it than that, isn't there?" Harry carefully observed his godfather, searching for any signs of a reaction. "You and Ripclaw were both surprised."
Sirius grimaced. "It's a story for another day, Harry. One thing at a time, alright?"
Harry frowned. There was something his godfather wasn't telling him. Something about that family had both him and a goblin on edge. That peculiarity was likely why the Gringotts Overlord had chosen to speak with him directly.
For now, he'd focus on the immediate matters at hand.
"Okay," he agreed. "So what happens next?"
"Now," Griphook stated, snapping his fingers to produce another folder on his desk, "we move on to our next topic of business. Would you like to assume control of the Potter family as its Lord, Mr. Potter? As Overseer, I am willing to delay this decision until you feel mentally prepared to address it." It was challenging to determine whether Griphook was being considerate or simply blunt. "Should you pass away before such a time arrives, either I or a fellow goblin will continue to manage the accounts until another Potter heir emerges with the requisite fortitude to oversee the family's affairs."
Harry winced. Griphook certainly didn't sugarcoat his words.
He glanced at Sirius, who nodded hesitantly.
So be it.
"I am willing to assume control of my family accounts as its next Lord," he declared.
"Excellent," Griphook replied with a smile, which, on a goblin, looked rather shark-like. Another snap of the goblin's fingers, and two more folders materialized. "Now, we simply require your signatures on several documents, and then we can proceed with the financial matters."
Harry had a sinking feeling that he wouldn't like what the goblin would say next.
"I presume you are familiar with the concept of a blood quill?"
Harry groaned.
"You are to report immediately to Overseer Griphook."
Fleur stared at the parchment for a moment, her expression as flat as parchment itself, as the paper message gradually dissipated into nothingness. Overseer Griphook was an exacting and demanding superior to work for, but the goblin never tried to hide that fact. As an Overseer, the number of financial analysts in his employ frequently fluctuated, with many either failing to meet his high standards or becoming overwhelmed by the sheer volume of paperwork that they had to contend with.
However, a job was a job. It didn't matter that she was currently pursuing a Mastery in Warding or that she had only recently started working for Gringotts. Or even that she had worked overtime for an entire week just to secure this one Sunday off. Fleur had little use for this repulsive excuse of a country.
She had hoped to spend her evening with a glass of wine and a book by the fireplace, but it seemed fate had other plans.
Instead, she found herself at Gringotts dealing with some Family Vault-related business. Apparently, a member of the long-lost Peverell family had demanded a comprehensive assessment of the current state of their assets. Fleur, unlike her gold-digging mother, had little to no interest in the world of wizarding nobility, so she had no idea why the goblins were so enthralled by the entire affair.
With a heavy sigh, Fleur wiped away the sweat from her brow. Forget taking a day off; she'd consider herself fortunate if she managed to return home by nightfall.
This week seemed to be relentless in its demands.
"Pack!"
With a snap of her fingers, the documents on her desk began to slide into their respective folders. Fleur quickly cast a glamour charm to conceal the dark circles under her eyes and used Scourgify to freshen up her appearance. Then she hurried out of her cubicle and into the elevator. Once inside, she took a few anxious moments to perfect her smile.
It wouldn't do to look worn out when meeting a new client.
...
Fleur assessed herself in the elevator mirror.
Top of Form
"Okay, perhaps, that was a bit much," Fleur thought to herself. Even when looking as intimidating as she did now, she was confident that she could turn heads with ease. At least goblins had stronger mental resistance than wizards, which meant she could do her job without constantly worrying about overly forward co-workers. Otherwise, she'd have to fend off advances in every corner, only to have them blame their behavior on her supposed bewitching allure that compelled their feeble minds to follow her, wagging their tongues like infatuated dogs.
She despised it.
She loathed everything about England.
The food. The weather. The arrogant accents of its inhabitants.
The fact that she, a highly skilled witch, was legally considered little more than a magical creature. An inferior, despite being ten times the witch of anyone she'd ever met in this wretched excuse for a country.
And perhaps most importantly, she abhorred having to endure William's torturous tutoring sessions, during which the red-haired wizard constantly ogled her and shamelessly flirted while she sat demurely, attempting to learn something. William was the only wardbreaker currently available for new students, so despite his advances, all she could do was smile brightly and say, "Thank you, sir, may I have another?"
Cursing under her breath, she adjusted her expression appropriately, knowing that Griphook was speaking in his formal, percussive manner. This indicated that someone, most likely the idiot responsible for ruining her day off, was sitting in there with him. She hoped it wouldn't be some weak-willed, star-struck fool who would drool at her every word.
Was that really too much to ask for?
With a final sigh, she wiped away the sweat from her brow, mentally resigned to the fact that her day off had been entirely consumed by work.
As she approached Griphook's office, she took a deep breath to prepare herself for yet another challenge. Maybe, just maybe, this would be the last task of the day, and she'd finally be able to return to her cramped little apartment, where her book and wine awaited her.
Or perhaps firewhiskey, depending on how this all went.
Taking another deep breath, she pressed the doorbell.
"Come in," came the no-nonsense command.
Fleur exhaled, adjusting her expression accordingly. Griphook was speaking in his usual formal and blunt manner. That meant someone, most likely the rascal responsible for ruining her day off, was inside with him. She hoped it wouldn't be some weak-willed fool who would drool at her every word.
Was that really too much to ask for?
Cursing under her breath, she strode inside. There were two people seated in front of Griphook. One was a man with long, flowing black hair that reached down to his shoulders, possibly an aristocrat based on his choice of robes. Then again, this was Overseer Griphook's office, and he never wasted time on penniless buffoons.
The other one looked far younger, with shoulder-length jet-black hair and dressed in a tuxedo. He was currently facing away from her as he talked to Griphook, shoulders eased as he relaxed into his chair. Fleur crossed the entire distance and stood beside the Overseer, finally getting a good look at his face—
Her eyes widened.
As did his.
"Fleur?" "…'Arry?"
Fleur Delacour.
This was quite possibly the last person he'd expected to meet at Gringotts, save for Voldemort himself maybe, but that was just how his luck worked. Harry stared at the Veela, a sharp contrast to the short goblin seated next to her. She was wearing a mix of red and grey, and her hair was neatly tied up into a bun, a stark contrast to the single ponytail she preferred during her stay in Hogwarts. As always, she wore her supernatural beauty like a cloak, but the signs of exhaustion were too visible not to notice. The slight droop of her shoulders, the lack of casual arrogance in her demeanour, and her stiff posture all painted a clear picture.
Whatever the girl was doing here, she was definitely overworking herself. He'd seen the same thing happen to Hermione too many times not to recognize it instantly.
His eyes met hers, and he found his own surprise being dwarfed by her own. He'd never expected to see the Brit-hating French girl at a British bank, much less in the same room as him. Hell, the last time he'd seen her, she was still suffering from the aftereffects of the Cruciatus Curse in the last task.
He slightly frowned, wondering if she knew what had happened after their encounter that night. A million other questions flashed across his mind, yet not a single one escaped his lips. He really should just say something—
Sirius coughed in the background. That seemed to break the spell, as Harry jolted back to reality.
"Fleur— ah, Miss Delacour."
"Monsieur Potter," she replied, her lips pursed. Fleur, Harry noticed
Fleur tried her best to maintain her composure during this meeting, despite the increasingly uncomfortable situation. Griphook's tone and demeanor were as cold and calculating as ever, and his words left her feeling like a pawn in some unknown game. When she had been called into his office, she hadn't expected to find Harry Potter and his godfather, Sirius Black, sitting there, looking just as surprised to see her as she was to see them.
She had known that working at Gringotts would involve dealing with wizarding nobility, but encountering the famous Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, was beyond her expectations. It was clear that Griphook had orchestrated this meeting for a specific purpose, and she couldn't help but feel like she was being dragged into something she didn't fully understand.
As Griphook outlined her new responsibilities, Fleur couldn't help but wonder why he had chosen her for this role. She had only been working at Gringotts for a short time, and her experience as a financial analyst was limited. Yet, here she was, tasked with helping Harry Potter transition into his role as Lord of House Potter and merge it with the Peverell family. It was a daunting and complex task, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of unease.
Her gaze briefly met Harry's during the meeting, and she could see the surprise and confusion in his eyes. She remembered their interactions during the Triwizard Tournament, how he had helped her during the second task, and the brief moments of camaraderie they had shared. But now, they were facing a completely different situation, and she wasn't sure how he felt about it.
When Griphook mentioned that she would be working closely with Harry as his liaison, Fleur couldn't hide her shock. She had expected to be a financial analyst, crunching numbers and managing accounts, not playing a role in the affairs of wizarding nobility. Her past interactions with Harry had been anything but friendly, and she couldn't help but wonder if this was some sort of test or punishment.
Nonetheless, she knew that she couldn't refuse Griphook's orders. She had taken the job at Gringotts to gain experience and further her career, and she couldn't afford to jeopardize her position. With a deep breath, she nodded in response to Griphook's instructions.
"Very well, Overseer Griphook," she said, trying to maintain her professionalism. "I will do my best to fulfill my new responsibilities and assist Mr. Potter in this transition."
As she spoke, she couldn't help but steal a glance at Harry. She wondered how he felt about this unexpected turn of events and what his expectations were for their working relationship. There were so many questions and uncertainties, and Fleur couldn't help but feel a sense of trepidation about the days ahead.
As Harry and Fleur tentatively agreed to work together on the transition of his family assets and the merger with the Peverell family, there was an undercurrent of tension in the room that was hard to ignore. Fleur's initial reluctance had given way to a more determined demeanor, but her words still held an air of reservation.
Sirius, on the other hand, seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the situation, wearing a smirk that suggested he was already planning to tease Harry mercilessly about working closely with the Veela.
Griphook, as usual, maintained his stoic composure, observing the interactions between the three with keen interest. It was clear that the goblin had orchestrated this meeting for a specific purpose, and he was watching the outcome with a calculating eye.
For Harry, the situation felt surreal. He had unexpectedly encountered Fleur, someone he had known from the Triwizard Tournament but never expected to meet in a financial context. Now, she was going to be directly involved in helping him navigate the complexities of managing his family's assets and merging with the Peverell family.
It was a lot to take in, and Harry couldn't help but wonder what challenges lay ahead. The uncertainty of the situation weighed on him, but he was determined to make the best of it. He had never been one to back down from a challenge, and this was certainly a unique one.
"Very well," Griphook interjected, breaking the momentary silence. "I will arrange for a follow-up meeting to discuss the specifics of the transition and merger. Miss Delacour, please ensure you have all the necessary documents and information ready."
Fleur nodded in acknowledgment, and Harry couldn't help but feel that there was more to her reaction than met the eye. He made a mental note to keep an eye on her behavior and try to understand what was really going on beneath the surface.
As the meeting concluded, Harry couldn't help but feel that he had just stepped into a new chapter of his life—one filled with financial responsibilities, unexpected alliances, and the enigmatic presence of Fleur Delacour. He had no idea what lay ahead, but he was determined to face it head-on, just as he always had.
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