Sorry for the delay everyone, a lot of new responsibilities swung my way. However rest assured, this story is planned to follow all seven Hogwarts years at the very least. This I can promise on Veritaserum if you'd like. This chapter is the longest yet and will do my best to keep producing longer chapters. I have a target length in mind but I'm still working out my writing muscles so bear with me. Thursday is always the posting day, if i miss one check back the next Thursday, for some of you across the pond that'll be Friday morning.
Enjoy
Chapter 8 – Gringotts
The next morning, Maxximus woke up disoriented, the memories of yesterday's adventure slowly resurfacing, a mix of sadness and wonder accompanying them. It seemed long ago that he witnessed the Phoenix Burning Day with all his friends in the village. He chuckled to himself realized that it was not only the phoenixes that were born again yesterday, so was he. Young Maxximus was no longer the blue-eyed son of the Priestess Sphinkus, he is Maxximus Alexander Sphinkus, the last heir to the forgotten House of Sphinkus at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. While he is not sure what that means for him yet, he is determined to follow his mother's last instructions and learn all he can. For Maxximus, that starts with getting out of the heavenly, cloud-like bed that he never knew could exist, and going down into the Great Hall, in a castle grander than he could have ever imagined, to eat from a selection of foods that must make the Olympians he heard about jealous.
He goes down into the common space, takes a quick bath in the oasis before tying his shenti and stepping out of the freshly magicked Sphinkus dormitory. He walks right through the Praetor before registering what just happened.
"Good morning, Praetor!" He says, straightening his back.
"Greetings, Maxximus. Follow quickly, we must break your fast presently. Remain near, there are pressing matters to discuss." The ghost responds, blue eyes staring intently at the space beyond Maxximus. True to form, the Founder begins to make his way towards the Great Hall without looking behind him. The door to the dormitory, shuts and locks behind them.
"Young Maxximus, while you traversed the realm of dreams, I traversed the halls of the fortress. It is but pale shadow of the intent that sprouted from my mind while I was yet among the living, however it remains aptly true to its purpose. I have not uncovered pressing dangers within the walls but the man with purple fabric wrapping his head emits an energy of a nature I am not yet familiar. Be on guard."
Maxximus, struggling to maintain pace with the ghost, was evidently uncomfortable with his ancestor's conclusion. Professor Quirrell was supposed to take him to the Diagonal place to get his school supplies after breakfast. What if he wanted to remove him from the castle to attack him without the headmaster knowing? But does the old wizard know about the weird energy? Surely if he can control ghosts with his wooden stick, he can feel the weird energies. For some reason he feels like he can trust the bespectacled man. Maybe he would tell him about what the Praetor discovered. Snapping him from his thoughts the reborn founder continues.
"Boy, before your arrival to the castle, were you schooled in the art of defense?" this time the ghost stops, turns, and places his piercing blue gaze on his charge. Maxximus, nearly walking through the ghost again takes a moment to catch his breath.
"My mother taught me about magic but I've never intentionally casted any. Our lessons were cut short by the stuff that happened leading to me coming here."
The senior Sphinkus, furrows his brow. "Maxximus, you have seen fourteen summers, yes?" At the boy's nod he continues. "Your present instruction is sorely lacking. You have the Sphinkus Chronicle, yes?" The boy nods again. "Correcting the oversight in your knowledge is paramount. You will undertake instruction from the Chronicle twice a fortnight, on your day of rest. Is that understood?" The boy nods a third time before the ghost turns and continues towards the Hall.
Arriving through the large doors of the Great Hall, he notices far fewer students this morning than his first night. The Gryffindor table seating the fewest students. Notably, the bushy haired girl absently eating a slice of toast while reading an impossibly large book, further down were a couple students engaged in lazy conversation and on the furthest end, nearest his own table was a red-headed boy with a shiny badge on his breast who had apparently already finished eating and was keenly observing the few seated at his table. The Hufflepuff table saw a few more students, all seating near each other talking amicably while serving each other their breakfasts. The Ravenclaw table was the most populated, hosting approximately a quarter of its full capacity, all eating quickly and quietly, separated by small stacks of books placed on the benches between them. Likely to read once the meal was finished. Lastly, the Slytherin table had about as many students as the Hufflepuff table, but you could not tell because where the Hufflepuffs were all grouped together, the Slytherins preferred to remain isolated, as if making sure no section of the table lay unclaimed.
Dutifully, Maxximus strode down the middle of the room, taking a seat at the center of his table, his back facing the students. Naturally, most of the yellow trimmed students paused their conversations to stare at him while a couple Ravenclaws would gaze his way between bites. This made Maxximus painfully aware that he was still dressed uniquely amongst the residents of the castle. Once seated, platters of food appeared before him. He spotted scrambled eggs, sausages, toast, fresh fall-time fruits, and a pitcher of juice. He eagerly plated a bit of everything and poured himself a glass of juice, salivating in memory of yesterday's dinner. After wolfing down his first few bites, his eyes began to roam towards the staff table. Headmaster Dumbledore was in pleasant discussion with Professor McGonagall, while the Heads of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw House ate and chatted amongst themselves. Professor Quirrell was seated next to the Head of Slytherin House except they were not talking to each other, rather the Head of Slytherin House, with strangely greasy, long, black hair was staring intently at the doors to the Hall. Professor Quirrell, on the other hand, was staring right at Maxximus. The unexpected eye contact made Maxximus flinch as he remembered Praetor Sphinkus' warning and he averted his gaze, feigning a fascination with an apple slice.
Once his breakfast concluded, the uneaten food disappeared from the Sphinkus table and Maxximus glanced at the staff table to signal to Professor Quirrell that he was ready to go. However, the seat next to the Head of House Slytherin was empty. He was startled by a stammering voice behind him.
"Mr. Sphink-k-k-kus, we must be on our w-w-way. Here is your t-t-time t-table." The professor hands him a parchment inscribed with his schedule. Unfortunately, there was a serious problem.
"Professor, I'm sorry, I never learned to read English where I come from. I don't understand my timetable." Maxximus says, eyes lowered, and shoulders slumped.
"On our r-r-return, we will m-meet Deputy Headmistress McG-G-Gonagall. She will he-l-lp. We must be g-g-going." The professor utters while rubbing his hands together nervously.
Professor Quirrell walked briskly out of the Great Hall, Maxximus following. The turbaned man's pace was noticeably slower than his previous escort, the Praetor. As such, keeping stride was far more enjoyable and Maxximus was able to notice a few more details of his surroundings. The four tables were now filled with students, some of the late risers still eating while others were taking full advantage of the canceled classes to catch up with their peers or indulge in various magical games.
The pair, exiting the Great Hall, made their way out the castle gate and into the courtyard. Maxximus could not believe what he was seeing. Greenery as far as the eyes could see. Framing the cobblestone path, was an array of colourful flowers growing on dancing hedges. The horizon yielded an imposing view of the Forbidden Forest, a thick canopy sheltering untold secrets and mysteries. Maxximus, acclimated to the vibrant yet sparse foliage of his oasis, wanted nothing more than to disappear into the forest, comfortable within nature. Alas, it would not do well to break rules on his first day. The skies above were home to a constellation of birds of all kinds, graceful and quiet owls, dancing sparrows and a much larger creature that he could not yet identify. It had wide spanning wings and four legs. Not like any creature back home. A familiar glimpse of fiery red immediately caught his eye. Soaring high above all the other avians was undoubtedly a phoenix. Their plumage was remarkable, even from a distance. Was it possible that either Helios or Aurora escaped the village? If so, could others have fled amidst the calamity? The smallest shred of hope renewed him and put a new spring in his step as he sped up to walk next to the Professor.
Arrived at a signpost, likely indicating where the school was in reference to other establishments, Professor Quirrell slowed to a stop.
"F-f-from here, we can Ap-parate directly to Diagon Alley. Hold on t-t-to me." The professor said, extending his arm.
Maxximus, unfamiliar with what 'Apparate' is, assumed it would be something like how he ended up in the castle. The headmaster mentioned how it was impossible for anyone to travel like that within the school grounds. Looks like those restrictions lifted at a specific distance from the school and this wooden post was that marker. Doing as he was told, he interlocked arms with the professor and braced himself for the tugging feeling.
He did not realize how grossly unprepared he was for what ensued. He later learned that this particular piece of magic was called Side-Along Apparation and it felt like he was being churned in and over himself before being stretched and pulled through space. Maxximus imagined that this is what Peeves felt like before he was reborn into his spectral ancestor. Focussing on this thought was the only thing between him and upheaving his bountiful breakfast.
In front of him however, stood a grand marble building, different in architecture from the rest of the buildings in the area. As if plucked out of time, like him. At the bronze gates of the building stood a small humanoid person, clad in scarlet and gold. All around, there were people dressed in robes of all colours and styles. Many unique shops advertising some magical product or other. Maxximus was in awe, at first, he thought Hogwarts was full of people, but it was nothing compared to the sheer traffic in Diagon Alley. He began to notice that the pace at which people were walking would slow around him, closer observation found them all to be staring curiously at him. Professor Quirrell also took note of the unwanted attention, brandished his stick, waved it about, and suddenly, Maxximus' shenti was gone and replaced with robes similar to those around him. A small, grateful smile appeared on the boy's lips, mirrored by a quick nod from the young professor.
"F-f-first, you must head into the G-g-gringotts Bank to see if your f-f-family left you any m-m-money. I m-must go procure an item to aid in your st-t-tudies." Without waiting for acknowledgement, Professor Quirrell turned and left, leaving Maxximus on his own in Diagon Alley. Mustering the morning's resolve. He strode into the bank.
Once inside, he noticed many more of the small, humanoid creatures sitting at desks, The creature had very long fingers, pointed ears and a pointed nose. This particular one appeared to be middle-aged as the tufts of hair jutting out of his ears were only beginning to grey.
"Hello sir, my name is Maxximus Alexander Sphinkus and I am here to ask if my family left behind any money." He said tentatively.
The being raised an eyebrow at being addressed politely and produced a sharp-toothed smile from ear to ear.
"Greetings Mister Sphinkus, it would be Gornuk's pleasure to assist you in this matter. You seek claim over the Sphinkus Vaults?" he responded.
"I believe so, Gornuk, sir."
"Identification… Please." Continued Gornuk, outstretching his hand.
"I'm sorry, I've arrived in this place with nothing, I do not know how I would identify myself to you. You don't believe I am who I say I am?" Said Maxximus, now beginning to be distraught.
"Gornuk is following goblin policy. Gornuk will inquire into the Sphinkus account and return with an identification test." At this, the goblin stood and walked through smaller doors behind him, leaving Maxximus wondering as to how they would test him. He would not fare well on a magical test and likely would perform poorly on a family history test. Would the goblins inform the school and get him kicked out of his dorm? What happens then?
Before he could continue aboard his crashing train of thought, the goblin Gornuk returned with another goblin, this one was much older with completely black eyes. He sat down in Gornuk's chair with the younger goblin standing beside him.
"Greetings, Mister Sphinkus, Ricbert is Head Teller at the Gringotts Bank. Ricbert will be assisting you today. Follow, please."
The goblin pair led Maxximus to Ricbert's private office. His chair was pure silver, ornate with a resplendent myriad of gemstones glinting in the lowlight of immaculate iron braziers placed in the four corners of the room. The desk was a single, solid, dark wood piece, evidence of a tree older than everyone in the room. It was resting on two wide silver legs fashioned in the shape of a stocky subservient looking creature holding up the weight of the goblin's business. Facing Ricbert, however, was a rickety old wooden chair whose sole purpose was most certainly to keep visitors in a perpetual state of discomfort. Maxximus dutifully sat down, not suffering from the discomfort as much since he was used to the hard sandstone seats from the village and was actually quite pleased the chair had a back for him to lean on.
"Mister Sphinkus, it is Gringotts' understanding you lay claim to the Sphinkus account. The Gringotts records state that this account dates from before the founding of the bank. When Gringott the Glorious seized the bank from the filthy natives…" Ricbert paused to sneer disdainfully at the mention of these historical people. "He generously allowed them to continue banking with the goblins as long as they agreed to convert their holdings into magical currency: Galleons, Sickles and Nuts. Failure to comply would result in a foreign currency holding fee of one percent, applied annually." At this point, the goblin smiled from ear to ear. He then brought out an ancient ledger filled with yellowed pages covered in barely legible dark ink and opened it to a page headed with the all too familiar Sphinkus scale.
"Mister Sphinkus, your vaults specific instruction are to confirm your identity by means of ascertaining the unique colour of your eyes. Ricbert has done so. The Glorious Gringott has summed your holding to 250,000 sesterces on the day of the bank's inception. Do you wish to convert your holdings into magical currency?" He joined his long fingers over the ledger and leaning in, the predatory grin still plastered on his face.
Maxximus, never needing to be proficient in arithmetic or accounting, was not completely sure what the goblin meant with percentages and fees, all he knew was the 250,000 seemed to be a pretty big number. He nodded at the goblin.
The old Head Teller exhaled a held breath through his pointed nose and leaned back in his gilded chair.
"As you wish Mister Sphinkus. After accounting for the foreign currency fee, applied over 517 years, the Sphinkus account now holds 166 Galleons, 8 Sickles and 15 Knuts. The vault will reflect this change. Ricbert will take you there now."
Both goblins made for the exit, Maxximus following, eager for another fragment of his mysterious family legacy. Gornuk returned to his post in the trading hall while Ricbert walked straight through a painting. This painting depicted a beautiful alabaster temple on a hill, surrounded by verdant plains. Overtop the temple was a dual Pegasus led chariot flying across the skies. Maxximus gingerly stepped through the tapestry; in a moment he was on the other side facing a staircase. The steps, one solid marble rock, expertly carved into a continuous staircase, were quite dusty from disuse. Ricbert was already at the top of the steps waiting for him. He took the stairs two at a time to catch up, taking full advantage of his longer legs.
Once on the next floor, the short hallway boasted no more than a dozen archways, each arch carried a unique symbol at its apex. The first, on his left, with an 'O' overlayed with an 'X' was filled with gold coins, various kinds of woods and, jars filled with strange items. Maxximus noticed a couple jars filled with unmistakable phoenix feathers. Opposite this vault was another, headed with an 'M' surrounded by a laurel wreath. This was filled to the brim with gold coins that threatened to fall through the archway, only contained by an invisible barrier. 'M' for Maxximus, he began to reach for some coins before being interrupted by the goblin.
"Mister Sphinkus! These ancient vaults did not need lock and key protections but are protected by the unbreakable magic imbued in the building. Should you attempt to steal from a vault, you will suffer an irreversible Midas Curse." The boy's confused look prompted an elaboration.
"You will turn to gold and be added to the vault you attempted to rob." The boys' eyebrows met his hairline, and he immediately hid his hands in the folds of his robes. Ricbert walked towards the second last archway on the left, this one headed with the ever-familiar Sphinkus scale.
"This is your vault. Here is a coin pouch, complementary of the bank for your longstanding patronage. You may come and go as you please. Gornuk will tend your needs henceforth." Ricbert promptly left the hallway and returned to his business.
Maxximus entered his vault and saw a small pile of gold, silver, and bronze coins in the middle of the room. What Maxximus did not notice was the wide circle of dustless floor, evidence of the massive wealth that he lost to the goblin's fees a few moments ago. He picked up a few handfuls of coins and placed them in his new pouch. Only a couple dozen coins were left scattered on the floor of the vault. Unsure of the value of these coins, Maxximus assumed too many would be better than too few and he could return what he did not spend. Satisfied, he walked back down the marble steps, through the painting and out the bank to rejoin the Professor who was standing a safe distance away from the bronze gates.