Chapter 34: Delays
Albus Dumbledore did not especially dislike goblins; he had gotten beyond such prejudices many decades ago. After years of dealing with them on behalf of the Wizengamot and the International Confederation of Wizards, he understood the creatures for what they were. They were greedy, conniving, vicious little beings—that was not an insult, that was just what they were. So when the Headmaster of Hogwarts approached one of the Gringotts tellers and announced himself with his full name and title, he was not at all put upon that they had stuck him in a waiting room and left him there for over two hours.
This was their way of reminding him that positions of power or influence among wizards meant nothing to them at all. In fact, the more important wizards thought themselves, the less goblins were inclined to treat them with respect. Goblins only cared for three things: strength, loyalty, and profit. They were, however, cunning enough to take advantage of human views of manners and were scrupulous about keeping to their word.
The chamber he had been left to wait in appeared to be made of solid rock with no entrances or exits at all, though it was furnished with a comfortable sofa, had a central table, and a number of orange glowing torches along the walls. A door opened on the left side of the chamber. A goblin walked in and the door closed behind, looking once again as if it were seamless.
"I am Account Manager Gormak," the goblin began with a toothy grin, his long crooked nose looking across at the periwinkle robed wizard. "I hope you have not been too uncomfortable during your wait. What business do you have concerning your account?"
"Gormack," Dumbledore said, rising with a slight smile and a twinkle in his eyes, "this is, I believe, the fourteenth time you have introduced yourself to me, and as always it is a pleasure to see you. It is also the fourth time I have asked to speak with the official Wizard-Liaison only to first have you sent to me." Dumbledore approached the goblin, pointedly looking down on the smaller creature. "As I am sure that Gringotts is far too well-organized for this to be due to incompetence, I will just assume this treatment is intentional on account of the poor relations between goblin-kind and wizards."
Gormack gave a disgruntled hmph that might as well have been an admission.
"State your business, Mr. Dumbledore," he said with some impatience.
"Unfortunately, Account Manager Gormack," Dumbledore replied, "I am afraid that you can be of no help to me in this and I must insist on seeing the Wizard-Liaison. I did not use the title of Chief Warlock to impress the goblin teller I spoke to any more than you gave your title of Account Manager to impress me. I did so to convey the nature of the business that I have. So, unless you are authorized to negotiate on behalf of Gringotts Bank with the Ministry of Magic, which I am certain that you are not, please arrange a meeting with the appropriate goblin."
Gormack turned with a snarl back to the doorway, but Dumbledore spoke before he disappeared through the entryway.
"Oh, and Gormack," the Headmaster said, kindly smile on his face, "if I am made to wait another two hours I will take it as a personal insult."
Dumbledore hadn't drawn his wand, hadn't projected the force of his magical strength, had barely even changed his voice. But the goblin understood and shuddered ever so slightly. Personal insults among goblins usually ended in death. And Albus Dumbledore understood goblin culture better than most wizards, and no goblin really wanted to anger a wizard of Dumbledore's power.
It was less than ten minutes later when Gormack returned to lead Dumbledore out of the waiting room, though a different hidden doorway, to a large office with a sign above it that read "Goblin-Wizard Liaison Office. Gormack bade the wizard enter, then left with the room with a nod to the goblin seated at a large, ornate desk.
"I am Sub-head Goblin Kargut, in charge of Goblin-Wizard relations. What is it you want?" Kargut was dressed in Western style suit as were the tellers and account managers, but unlike them, he wore a goblin-wrought silver dagger on a chain around his neck. It was a sign of rank.
"That is a fine dagger," Dumbledore noted, before retrieving an item from within his robes. It was the Sorting Hat. "Which reminds me, before we get to official business, I would like to return to Gringotts an item that has recently fallen into my possession. I believe, according to goblin tradition, a goblin-wrought weapon is rightfully the property of the goblins when the wizard who commissioned it is dead. Is that not correct?"
With that, the Headmaster pulled from the hat a silver sword with rubies encrusted on the hilt that bore the a name engraved upon it. It was, as the engraving said, the Sword of Gryffindor. Dumbledore laid the weapon the goblin's desk.
Kargut visibly licked his lips upon seeing the mighty enchanted sword. It was a prize easily worth tens of thousands of galleons, likely much much more. The goblin looked up at Dumbledore with a fierce expression. "And what do you want for it?" the goblin spat.
"Why, nothing, it is the property of the goblins, as many of you believe," Dumbledore answered with smile. "I would, however, like to arrange to contract for its use, once we finish the business of the Ministry."
Kargut grabbed the weapon by the hilt and inspected it. It was exceptionally finely crafted, even for goblin-made silver blade. "And if I refuse your offer?" the goblin asked.
"Then you keep the sword and I will keep my gold," Dumbledore said with a shrug.
At that, Kargut grinned, his sharp teeth gleaming wickedly in the magical torchlight that lined the walls. This wizard knew how to conduct business. Dirk Cresswell, the human he was accustomed to working with, never understood how business with goblins should be done. Whatever it was Dumbledore wanted, it was bound to be something big, but with this enticing of a grand opening, Kargut would have to consider it. It would just be a question of price.
"Very well. What business do wizards have with Gringotts today, Mr. Dumbledore?" Kargut asked.
Dumbledore nodded. "It is a very unfortunate business, Sub-head Goblin Kargut, and quite an embarrassment to the Wizengamot. I hope this will not sour the relationship between wizard and goblin any further," Dumbledore began.
This was more like Cresswell. The sniveling diplomacy. Kargut's lips turned up in a sneer. Perhaps he had over-estimated this wizard.
"You see, I am afraid Gringotts has—entirely unknown to the Ministry—been defrauded, in violation of our treaty."
That got his attention. Kargut snarled. What sort of treachery was this? Wizards were always breaking their word and then expecting no retribution. Whatever they had done, they would pay for their transgression.
"As you are aware, under Section 2 subparagraph 3 of the Hogsmeade Treaty of 1612, wizards and witches are prohibited from any trespass onto Gringotts grounds in any form, violation of this prohibition to be punishable by death. What you are not aware of, which the Ministry and myself only recently came to know, was that this portion of the treaty has been being violated for over the past two decades."
Kargut's anger turned to confusion. What was the wizard getting at? Aside from the ignominious break-in of 1991, there had not been any case of wizards or witches trespassing on the bank property. They were far too afraid to do so, and for good reason.
"Unfortunately," Dumbledore continued, "many wizards feel themselves superior to goblins, a failing among my kind," the Headmaster said, much to Kargut's surprise. "One wizard in particular believed himself above all others, and so he sought to flagrantly violate your bank with his presence by placing a portion of his soul within an object and having one of his followers place that object in a Gringotts vault, thus trespassing upon your bank."
It took Kargut a moment to realize what Dumbledore's angle was, but when he did he was greatly impressed.
Goblins did not did not get involved in conflicts among wizards because they just did not care. Nor did they care about the government of wizards or recognize any authority of wizardkind over themselves. So, if Dumbledore had come to him asking for help defeating some fool dark wizard or if he had come as Chief Warlock demanding goblins destroy some dark object, he'd have spit in Dumbledore's face and kicked him out of the bank.
Instead, the crafty wizard had pointed to a loophole which Kargut could exploit to justify the seizing of an object from a wizard's or witch's vault. There were many dark objects in Gringotts vaults, many dangerous objects in Gringotts vaults, and the goblins didn't care a whit about them. So long as vault owners paid their fees their items would be left alone. Goblins never took from the wizards' vaults because if they did, the wizards would stop banking with Gringotts and the constant influx of gold to the goblins from wizards and witches would cease. But if there were a violation of a treaty, the goblins could safely destroy the object if they so chose.
Now the real negotiation would begin.
"I see," Kargut said, lacing his clawed fingers together, a mannerism goblins picked up on from their negotiations with the humans. "This is a serious breach of our treaty, Chief Warlock," the goblin said using the title not out of respect, but to invoke the responsibility and lay liability for the "harm" that was supposedly done. "What is your Wizengamot offering us as compensation for this violation?"
Dumbledore nodded sagely, "The Ministry of course will compensate Gringotts for this affront, though I remind you that it was not the Ministry itself that caused this, and we did seek to rectify the situation as soon as we found out. I think ten thousand galleons, to be deducted from my personal account, acting as Chief Warlock, should suffice?"
"At least twenty thousand for such a serious breach of our treaty."
"Twelve thousand," Dumbledore replied. "And a thousand to you personally as a fee for your inconvenience."
"Done," Kargut said, sealing the deal. A thousand to him personally was worth much more than eight thousand for the bank. To him at least.
"The object is a golden cup engraved with a badger. It can be found in the vault of the escaped criminal Bellatrix Lestrange. Unfortunately, you will find this dark object particularly difficult to destroy, even with goblin-wrought silver. Which brings me to my final piece of business—purchasing both the past and future right of use of the Sword of Gryffindor for Mr. Harry James Potter."
Kargut listened as Dumbledore explained how in his second year Harry Potter drew the sword from the Sorting Hat and killed the basilisk, how the fang of a basilisk destroyed the same kind of dark object they had just negotiated to destroy, and how the Sword of Gyffindor had become impregnated with basilisk venom and could therefore be used for the same purpose. It was a worthy tale, and the goblin's estimation of Potter grew. Few wizards killed with blades anymore. The tale also focused on a very inconvenient detail: the magic of the Sword of Gryffindor seemed to believe itself the property Godric Gryffindor and his spiritual successors.
"A hundred thousand galleons," Kargut demanded. "And the blade returns to the goblins upon Mr. Potter's death." This was an outrageous demand, especially given the already existing magical connection, but it would be strong place to begin negotiations from.
"Agreed," Dumbledore said, not even bothering to bargain. "We can—"
Before Dumbledore could finish his sentence, an ethereal white stag charged into the room, startling Kargut, who quickly grabbed the silver knife from where it hung around his neck and brandished it. But the goblin need not have worried, as the patronus that appeared stopped in front of Dumbledore to deliver a message in Harry's voice.
Albus, I just had a dream from my link with Voldemort. I believe it's a false vision meant to draw me to the Department of Ministries. In the vision the Death Eaters took Sirius and were torturing him. But the vision was not of where he's supposed to be. Is it the right time? Please, Headmaster, let me know what I should do!
The Headmaster frowned. This was not at all a convenient time. The problem with failing to officially get an agreement with goblins signed in writing (with blood) guaranteed that the next negotiation would be much more costly as their greed would take over. After all, if a wizard would agree to ten thousand, why wouldn't he agree to twenty thousand? Especially in a case like this.
"Ah, Sub-Head Goblin Kargut, do you mind if I send a reply? This is a time sensitive matter."
The goblin, who had been unable to hear the message, not being an intended recipient, replaced his dagger, than grunted his assent.
Rather than draw his wand and risk offending the goblin at this late state in the negotiation, Dumbledore instead used his hand and exerted more magic than he normally would to cast the spell wandlessly. "Expecto Patronum!"
A great, white phoenix appeared in the air, very similar to Fawkes, but without the fiery visage or hauntingly beautiful song that accompanied the actual phoenix. The patronus listened to Dumbledore's message and then set off to relay it:
Your godfather is, thankfully, safe. This is an opportune time, though I am unfortunately unavoidably busy at the moment. Inform Professor Snape of the dream. Be precise in your message to him. He will know what he should do. I will join you in the Ministry as soon as I can. I have faith in you, Harry.
"I am afraid, Kargut, that I have other important matters to deal with. If you can have the contract for the sword drawn up and the indemnification of the Ministry in the matter of the breach of the treaty, we can make the exchange."
Kargut nodded. "I will have the documents ready. But, as I understand it Mr. Dumbledore, your account does not have enough galleons to cover the contract for the sword."
Dumbledore produced a key. "You will find all the necessary gold in vault 713."
Kargut summoned a pair of underlings, speaking in gobbledygook, and sent them to draw up the contracts. Dumbledore was pleased to hear that there was no communication of an attempt to deceive him by the Sub-head Goblin. Most goblins were unaware that he could speak their language.
When the subordinate goblins left, Kargut turned back to Dumbledore with a stern look. "I will need to see the gold before we can sign. I wouldn't want you to try what Bagman did."
Dumbledore sighed. Ludo Bagman's failure to pay off his debts to the goblins was a continuous thorn in Wizard-Goblin relations. He gestured for the goblin to lead on. After a somewhat thrilling cart ride, Kargut and Dumbledore approached the highly secure vault. With a wave of his hand over the door, a number of security features disengaged and the vault door opened to reveal…an entirely empty vault.
Kargut gave Dumbledore a distrustful look. The wizard gave a wan smile in response. Then he pulled out a small, brown, grubby looking coin pouch.
When the Headmaster turned the pouch upside down, bits of gold began to rain down out of it. The gold continued to pour even after the entire bottom of the floor was covered and it began to pile up past Dumbledore's waist. Kargut had to scramble to remain atop the continuous flood of gold chunks.
Kargut grabbed one of the many chunks, held it up critically, then bit into it. His teeth made an impression on the malleable metal.
"This is pure gold! Not galleons!" Kargut protested.
"Indeed. I have been meaning to have this converted into wizarding currency for some time now. Take the one hundred thousand galleons, plus the banks usual fee for the conversion, and leave the rest in this vault, if you will."
"You and Flamel!" Kargut snarled pointing a clawed finger accusingly.
Dumbledore smiled enigmatically, "Perhaps. Or perhaps when one studies the alchemy of dragon's blood one encounters many dragons, who typically enjoy sleeping on mountains of gold." The Headmaster shrugged. "Either way, it is more than enough to cover the contract we agreed to."
Kargut looked around at all the gold that had just been added to the Gringott's vaults. Whether or not this gold came from dragons hoards or from the philosopher's stone, it was all in goblin hands. That was what mattered.
"How much more is in there?" the goblin demanded, thinking of the gold in the pouch.
"Enough," Dumbledore responded, tucking the pouch into the Sorting Hat.
The cart ride back to Kargut's office was a quiet one, punctuated by the goblin's occasional grumbling. "I should have asked for two hundred thousand," he muttered. The wizard remained quiet, hiding his amusement.
Kargut presented the finished documents. Dumbledore sliced his fingers and signed his name on the contracts after carefully checking them over. His enchanted half-moon spectacles detected no trace of hidden text or subterfuge. He sighed with relief. This would make things much easier. Had they tried to cheat him it would have taken even longer.
CRACK!
For the second time, Kargut, and this time two clerks along with him, were startled by a sudden intrusion into the bank. It was not a patronus.
"Master Dumblydore! Tikky is having a message from Master Snapeses!" Tikky blurted out upon arrival.
"My apologies, Kargut," Dumbledore said. "I did not intend to bring an elf into Gringotts in this manner."
Tikky looked up at Dumbledore with a wide-eyed expression. "Oh, Tikky is very sorry Master Dumblydore, but Master Snapeses said to gives you this letter no matter wheres you are. Tikky is sorry if Tikky is causing trouble."
Dumbledore pat the elf on the head and took the envelope from the excitable elf. "Thank you, Tikky. Please return to Hogwarts now and resume your duties."
The elf smiled and disappeared with a much quieter crack. Dumbledore took the letter and read over it quickly. So, the Order was alerted, but they would arrive some time after Harry went to the Ministry. The arrangement was nearly perfect.
"Thank you Sub-Head Goblin, Kargut. Our business is concluded," the Headmaster said as he turned to leave.
Kargut smiled wickedly. "Not quite."
Dumbledore turned back with a frown.
"Gringotts has accepted the Ministry's apology for allowing a breach of our treaty, Chief Warlock, however there is still the matter of the 'intruder' to handle. If a goblin were to execute a wizard—in any form, as you said—it would invite unwanted reprisals. For the sake of peace between goblins and wizards," Kargut said, "you should be the one to destroy the dark object. Then our business is concluded."
Albus Dumbledore heard the words the goblin said, but understood the real intent behind them. Goblins did not care at all about taking a human life, they actually took pleasure in it when they had the opportunity. They knew full well that the Ministry of Magic would do nothing against them, that was not a concern. No, the real concern was that Voldemort or his followers would be enraged, but in truth the goblins were not very worried about that either. If dark wizards attacked, goblins would just enjoy killing them.
No, this was just like the waiting room. Kargut was sending a message. Dumbledore may have gotten what he wanted, it may have been mutually beneficial, but goblins still did not like him. They cared nothing about his urgency or his business.
The Headmaster considered simply leaving there and then. Just as house elves could pass through Gringotts wards, so too could a phoenix. The horcrux could wait. The contracts were signed after all. But, then there was no telling what hoops he would be forced to jump through if he left now. Perhaps the goblins would even double-cross him and remove the cup from Gringotts by simply giving it back to Bellatrix. He couldn't risk that.
Harry Potter was no simple boy. He had grown strong and had a fine heart and mind. He could handle danger, and the Order was on the way to back him up.
He would believe in Harry.
Weasley Seer
When Dumbledore arrived at the Ministry of Magic, he did so using a unique form of apparition that he had invented when he was much younger. In this instance it was Fawkes who did the actual act of moving from place to place—Albus felt some level of satisfaction at the looks on the goblins' faces when he left through phoenix fire—but it was he that sent a disillusionment spell through the disapparition point to the apparition point ahead of his body so that he could arrive unnoticed. It was a useful tool for checking up on students. It was just as useful for entering a potentially hostile environment unnoticed.
Dumbledore noticed Tom immediately. His former student, the self-styled Voldemort, had concealed himself in a shadowy fog in the center of the Ministry atrium. He appeared to be waiting, and the Headmaster did not need to wait long before he knew why.
Several dark robed wizards apparated into the hall. Death Eaters. There were nine of them, no ten. The tenth was Bellatrix Lestrange, and Dumbledore could guess some of the others. Rastaban and Rudolphus would be there if Bellatrix was. There was a taller one who could only be Antonin Dolohov. These were Tom's "Inner Circle", his elite.
And clearly, they had failed.
If that was the case, then apparently, so had Harry. The young wizard was not supposed to beat up the Death Eaters, they were supposed to get the prophecy. Dumbledore sighed. He would have to speak to Harry and see if the situation could be salvaged.
"Crucio!" Voldemort sent one of his Death Eaters to his knees. Half of the rest disapparated away, not wanting to stick around for the Dark Lord to turn his wand on them. Those who stayed knew better. Those who fled would certainly feel it later.
Bellatrix was down on her knees, begging for forgiveness, reciting what she had heard of the prophecy.
Harry apparated into the atrium, a pillar of white light that formed into the young man who Albus had learned to care for as a son. He was so proud of Harry's growth, not just in magical strength, but in heart, intelligence, and wisdom. The truth was, Harry had always been good and caring, and that combined with his innate magical talents and newer insight into magic made him into such a beacon of hope.
But he was a beacon of hope who looked haggard. The light in Harry's eyes was dimmer than normal, the magical strength that usually poured off of him in such situations was entirely absent. It was as if he had drained himself before coming to fight.
Dumbledore frowned. He would probably need to step in, rather than let Harry continue to build his reputation and gain the faith of the Order. Harry was in no shape to face Tom Riddle.
"Please milord," Bellatrix begged on her knees. "Forgive me for not protecting the prophecy."
"Ah, Bella, Bella, Bella. I am so disappointed. However, since you managed to bring me one more line of the prophecy, I will forgive you," the snake headed dark wizard said, cupping his hand under his devotee's chin.
"Voldemort!" Harry gasped.
The red-eyed man rose, removing his hand from Bellatrix and turned to face Harry. "You have managed to thwart me once more, Harry Potter. You have taken something from me that I dearly wanted. Which is why I will now take something from you."
Voldemort's wand rose up like the strike of a viper, "Avada Kedavra!"
What threw Dumbledore off was not the speed of the attack. It was the target. He had transfigured the floor around Harry into shields that could rise up around him to deflect the worst sort of curses if Harry did not react quickly enough. But those protective spells would do nothing to protect Ron Weasley and Harry was already disapparting to move himself between the spell and his friend.
It was too late to use transfiguration. With Harry apparating to the spot in front of Ron any attempt at banishing him away would at best affect one of them, leaving the other to die. For Albus Dumbledore, there was only one course of action that was acceptable to him: Follow Harry's example.
Albus Dumbledore apparated through the flames directly in front of Harry Potter. Dumbledore willed Fawkes to interpose the two of them between Harry and the incoming curse, and his oldest friend and familiar obliged, approving wholeheartedly of the act of sacrifice. The flame of the phoenix surpassed the speed of the killing curse, and Albus Dumbledore arrived just ahead of it. His body was still composed mostly of phoenix flame when Voldemort's curse hit.
It was the oddest sensation. For a moment, a brief moment, Dumbledore resisted the killing curse, but that moment passed as the flames he was composed of warmed to an intensity he had never felt before. He heard the words, as if the melody of a song, saying let got in his mind, and trusting Fawkes, Albus Dumbledore did just that.
Then the great Headmaster of Hogwarts and his pet phoenix, Fawkes turned to ash.
Weasley Seer
Upon the death of Albus Dumbledore, all movement in the Ministry Atrium stopped. On top of the ash where the Headmaster once stood was, oddly enough, the Sorting Hat. It was a strange detail to note considering the momentous loss, but Harry couldn't help but just stare at it.
And then the laughter began. Loud, long, unabashed mocking laughter rang out and lasted almost a full minute while the entire Order of the Phoenix stared on in horror.
"That fool!" Voldemort declared. "And people thought him a greater wizard than me?"
"Never," Bellatrix exclaimed getting to her feet. "I never doubted you! I've always believed in you!" There were murmurs of assent for the comment and jeers about their downed foe from the dark robed wizards.
Voldemort chuckled. "That is true, Bella. Now the whole world will believe."
Harry stood there, immobile, taking in the mocking, taking in the callousness of Voldemort and his supporters. He was filled with grief, but also rage at those who dared to mock Dumbledore. And suddenly, he felt a surge of strength.
"EXPULSO DUO!" Harry said jabbing his wand forward, letting out his grief and anger. Four beams of blue light shot forward towards the cheering Death Eaters.
Voldemort quickly erected a silver shield, but the shield only covered those nearest him. Where the beams of magic struck the center of the shield they created a polychromatic vibration visible in the air, but then faded away. The beams that struck the edges of the shield, however, deflected off and struck two of the Death Eaters not fortunate enough to be close to their leader.
The two slammed backwards into the walls around the atrium that a crack could be heard and the two dark wizards slumped to the ground.
Voldemort chuckled, dismissing his lost followers. If they were too weak to survive, they were no good to him anyway.
"Impressive, Harry. I understand now. You were the one marked by me to be my equal, which is why you were able to destroy me all those many years ago."
Harry wanted to raise his wand again and attack, but that spell had drained away whatever strength Harry had found within himself. The rest of the Order had snapped out of the shock that the death of their leader had caused, but were unsure what to do now. They were waiting on Harry to make a move.
"If given the chance to reach your full strength, you could perhaps be as powerful as I one day. But I will not give you such a chance," Voldemort said. "Instead, I will give you three months to make a choice: Join me, run, or die."
People began flooing into the atrium, gasping and backing away as soon as they saw Voldemort standing there.
"Morsmordre!" Voldemort exclaimed, casting the Dark Mark within the Ministry.
Then he and the Death Eaters disapparated.
Harry Potter slumped to his knees, looking at the ashes of Albus Dumbledore on the floor in front of him. He began to sob.
Author's Note: Ok, I know I said this is supposed to be the last chapter. Clearly, I didn't finish it. What started as just an introduction to the story quickly stretched out to take up the majority of the chapter. I hope you like the chapter even if it isn't the promised finale. That will be coming.