AN: There's been a lot of legal talk, and several reviewers have asked for a quick, concise recap of everything. I've finally found an excuse to give it, so now everyone can be on the same page on what's going on.
This chapter is dedicated to two White Buffalo Women: the one who will read this and made Lichfield who he is, and the one who will never read it and who made me into Lichfield.
.o0O0o.
"You know who he is," Lichfield said. "You know who has the Key." He hadn't said it like a question.
"I want to see what happened to the last Account Manager," the Harry who was Harold said. "The one before Gropegold." He looked Lichfield in the eye and didn't say it like a request.
Lichfield looked him in the eye for a long moment after that, as if seeing him for the first time. The stump-like face betrayed nothing – but if he was looking for him to blink, Harry was stubbornly resolved not to give it to him. If they were asking him to believe what they're telling him to believe, to put his very first friend in a position to be betrayed by the same guardian who had betrayed him or be torn apart by the goblins if the gentle giant didn't believe them, then Harry had to know what they were saying was real. He had to help Hagrid as much as he could, and that demanded he take something from them first.
The old wizard turned and looked at the Overseer, the goblin now oddly silent, subdued. The goblin tersely nodded, as if agreeing to a deal that'd leave him without a knut to his name.
"You want me to go with you?" the warlock asked, a genuine look of concern on his harsh face.
"No," the Overseer said gruffly with a shake of his head. "I'll take him. You – you go–." Words seem to fail him and Harry wondered exactly what it was he had asked for.
"I'll go see to these forms, shall I?" Lichfield said rising and collecting the forms Harry had signed. "It'd give me a chance to find these Weasleys and look to other things," he said with a glance to Harry.
"Yes, yes. Good," the goblin said. "You can find us when you're done."
Lichfield glanced at him again, gnarled finger gesturing to the bulging hand-me-downs Harry had smuggled into the building, silently asking if he wanted the warlock to take them. Harry nodded and handed them over, glad to see the last of them.
It was in silence the Litigator left them, and it was a silence that lingered.
The goblin rearranged his files with his eyes on his work, seeming to take comfort in the neatly ordered nature of a tidy desk. Settled once again, Barchoke seemed to gather himself once more.
"I think I may have to start by apologizing for Lichfield," the goblin said.
"He didn't seem to like me much at the end there," Harry replied.
"Oh, no. He liked you, he liked you," the goblin reassured him somberly. "If he hadn't, he never would have compared you to Charlus," he explained. "They were very close ever since their school days, from what he's said. Any number of things could've gotten him into that funk."
Once again the goblin's files were arranged just so. Harry spotted the nondescript shoe box Cadogan had given him to house his old peeling trainers and picked it up off the floor where it had fallen.
"What I think I should apologize for is Lichfield's business manner, or lack thereof," the Overseer said.
"It's alright," Harry replied. "I like the jokes."
"So do I, despite the fact they're always at my expense," the goblin chuckled, lightening the mood. "Usually, Lester's the type to either sit there – like the stump you so aptly named him – and look intimidating, or get in your face and roughly spout off every legal procedure and hurtle we can do to you unless you comply. You wouldn't believe how fast he can make people cave under pressure."
Having seen his gruff face up close, not to mention the sharpness of the litigator's mind, Harry was glad to have him looking out for his interests rather than arrayed against him.
"He was brought into this because of his past familiarity with the Potters and the Potter Account," the goblin explained. "He would've been on the war path if he hadn't been, and that's exactly the kind of litigator you need. Get him around a Potter though–," Barchoke made a dismissive gesture, "and apparently that 'professional wall,' as he calls it, disappears entirely. Definitely not the impression I was hoping to give by bringing you to an Overseer's office," he finished self-deprecatingly.
The appraising look entered his eye again.
"You seemed to get him there at the end though, Mr. Potter," the Overseer said, emphasizing that last part. "Maybe his case won't be so hard to make with you. Got a bit of a spine to you, don't you?"
Harry gave an embarrassed shrug.
"Well don't let it go to your head," the Overseer warned quickly. "We may be bankers more than warriors nowadays, but our guards practice the old ways, and they don't have a sense of humor at all."
Harry was reminded of the panic in Gropegold's eyes as they dragged him away screaming, and wondered what was happening to the treacherous goblin now. He probably didn't want to know.
"You try out there–," Barchoke waved towards the door, "–what Lichfield did in here and you're liable to get yourself killed, and that would make everything we've done here–"
"–Irrelevant," Harry said. "Yeah, he told me."
"There was a lot of legal talk too," Barchoke fingered his files again, as if looking for a way to stall. "He and I have been dealing with this kind of stuff for years. You might be lost. Anything you didn't understand?"
"I think I got the basics," Harry said. "I was born in the magical world, to magical parents, and never should've been placed with the Dursleys. The fact that I was," Harry felt his anger rise, "tells you the Ministry appointed a guardian to watch out for me. That guardian is the one who left me with my aunt and uncle and has been in control of my account since my parents died."
Barchoke nodded. "What else?"
"Something funny happened to the last Account Manager and Gropegold took over," Harry recited. "This guardian has been using him to steal money from my account. We've Sealed the account, which stops him from doing anything more–," Harry stopped. "But you still haven't said how Gropegold was stealing and where all the money went," he told the Overseer.
"Oh, we didn't?" Barchoke perked up. "Personally, I find it fascinating."
Having picked up on the goblin's love of procedures and files, anything he found fascinating would probably have him stuck in this office for what felt like another week.
"Just the basics will be fine," Harry said quickly.
"Oh, well, it's pretty straight forward then," the goblin said. "Take today, for instance. We have a large transfer from your account to a do-gooder charity, a wizarding institution, and large phony investments into muggle companies."
"Why would they give money to a charity?" Harry asked. "I thought he'd keep it all."
"Same here, but that's what has Lichfield thinking this guardian is some high society type. Someone who likes to be seen doing good works – all the while they're stealing from a child to do it."
The Overseer checked his files again.
"Something called the – The Hogwarts Hopefuls," the goblin said. "We've never even heard of them," the goblin explained. "Probably some program set up to help graduating students find jobs. I'll never understand this human thing of doing something for nothing. That stops now. They'll just have to get jobs on their own," the Overseer said definitively.
"Is there anything that ties to Hogwarts directly?" Harry asked, already thinking he knew the answer.
"Yes, but this one's not so uncommon," the goblin said. "At least it didn't use to be. Another large transfer was due for the Hogwarts Operational Fund."
Barchoke noticed the confused look on Harry's face.
"It's the account that handles the day-to-day spending for the school. They seem to be the biggest beneficiary from the Transfer Orders that were supposed to be processed today."
"And why would Hogwarts need all that money?" Harry said harshly, his anger at the Headmaster seeping through into his tone.
"At this point in the year, they shouldn't need it at all," the goblin said.
"Yeah, why would a school need money during the summer?"
"Oh, no. It's not that," the Overseer said. "It's that today is the first day of the school year."
"Wait, no it's not," Harry said.
"Yes it is," the goblin said confused.
"No, it's not," Harry said stubbornly.
"Yes, it is," the goblin said just as stubbornly back.
"Term doesn't begin until September the first," Harry declared.
"Aha!" the goblin said triumphantly. "The term doesn't begin until September, but the fiscal year starts today," he said with a grin. "Their account should be flowing with gold at the moment, so why would this guardian donate to the Beggar's Circuit?"
"The Beggar's Circuit?"
"That's what your grandfather called it," Barchoke explained. "If Hogwarts goes over budget and needs extra cash, the Headmaster will go around to rich old alumni to try and shake a little money out of them. Apparently this guardian of yours thinks you're really generous."
Harry had always wondered what the Headmaster actually did for the school. Apparently, before he started stealing from his account, he had actually served a purpose.
"Just how generous does he think I am?" Harry asked hotly.
"Take this transfer here for example," Barchoke said, holding up a piece of parchment. "To put it in terms you'd understand, these Hopefuls were going to get enough gold to pay for twenty one years of tuition."
"Twenty one–!"
"Years," the goblin repeated.
"I'm paying for twenty one people to go to school? That's enough for me and half my class!" Harry exclaimed, dreading the thought he was paying for the likes of Malfoy.
"It's more than that when you consider your schooling was paid for in full before you were born," the goblin laughed.
"Wait, you mean I really did have my name down before I was born?" Harry asked.
"A really good investment strategy on your grandfather's part," Barchoke nodded. "Pay for it in bulk now so if the price goes up it doesn't affect you. I've recommended the same be done to everyone I oversee. Most have seen the logic of doing it at least once."
"So what is Hogwarts doing with all this money?" Harry asked, his love for the castle waning by the minute.
"Honestly, I couldn't say," the goblin told him.
"And why not?"
"Because I don't know," Barchoke held up his hands. "I oversee Hereditary Accounts. As long as they seem to make money and the Account-Holder doesn't complain, I can't look into things. Hogwarts, however, is a completely separate department unto itself. All staffed by humans," he finished with a grumble.
"A human Overseer?" Harry asked, rather confused at the concept.
"Just the one," Barchoke explained. "About a hundred years ago a particularly loathsome Headmaster, we call Phineas the Foul, refused to have anything to do with goblins and threatened to have Hogwarts to do all its banking itself. Rather than fight him on it, the Grand Overseer at the time decided to set Hogwarts up as a separate department and man it by humans to placate him."
"That's awful," Harry said.
"Well, that's Phineas–," the Overseer stopped, his eyes popping. "My apologies, I didn't mean to offend you," he said to Harry.
"Why would that offend me?" Harry asked confused. "He sounds like a racist old git."
"Yes, but he also happens to be your grandmother's grandfather," Barchoke explained.
At that moment Harry could have heard a pin drop.
"Oh," Harry said. He had never thought any of his family could've been so bad as to be called Foul. 'Then again,' Harry thought to himself, 'the Dursleys are certainly foul and they're a lot closer to me than some grandmother's grandfather.'
"So," Harry said to get things going again. "How do you know they're phony muggle investments?"
"Because we can't invest in the muggle world," the Overseer said simply.
"Wait – Really?"
"You have any idea what would happen if wizarding gold flooded the world market?" Barchoke asked. "It'd be worse than what happened six hundred years ago. We'd be lucky if things took a hundred years to work itself out! Gropegold probably thought he was being clever by not exchanging the Galleons for Pounds. That much of an exchange would have gotten him caught for sure. We'll track it down. If there's one thing Gringotts is good at it's following the money."
Harry looked back out to the view of both magical and muggle London.
"Then how can you stand to look out there?" Harry asked. "There must be hundreds of businesses in London alone you could be investing in."
"Exactly," Barchoke said. "We built this bank up so high to give every goblin in management a view of what's been denied us. That's the price that comes from overplaying your hand. That's why we're being cautious."
Harry stared out the curved window again for a while, wondering what it'd be like to see another world day-after-day and never be able to touch it. To be locked inside one building and one street. 'It'd be like being back in the cupboard under the stairs,' Harry thought. 'Only to look out the grate and see Hogwarts, knowing I'll never be able to get there.'
Barchoke cleared his throat and Harry turned back to him.
"Are you – are you sure you want to see him?" Barchoke asked. "The last Account Manager, Hammerhand. There's nothing you can do."
"If Lichfield's right, then he was probably attacked because he refused to help this guardian steal money from my dead parents," Harry said. "The least I can do is go see him."
Barchoke nodded and rose from his seat, taking his Concealer with him.
"On the way, I can explain why we'd like this rental agreement," the goblin smiled.
'Oh joy,' Harry thought as the two left the room together.
.o0O0o.
Ginny Weasley smiled as she reached her favorite part of her favorite book.
Harry's eyes blazed like brilliant emerald suns. His gaze seemed to reach into the very heart of her, warming her, claiming her. His strong arms circled around her in a protective embrace.
"Oh Harry, you're so brave!" the red-haired girl exclaimed. Her bodice was ripped and torn from the Monster's heinous claws, her bosom heaving as she seemed to breathe for the first time since he left to do battle with the fearsome beast.
"I thought you'd surely be killed!" she cried, crushing herself against the strong masculine form of her savior.
"Never, while you still live," Harry said as he smiled. Oh, how he smiled a smile that seemed to fill the entirety of the Chamber itself with warmth.
"Not even Slytherin's fearsome beast could keep me from you," Harry said softly. "And with mighty Gryffindor's help, I've slain the beast, and no one will ever need to fear from it again."
The girl looked down to the sword on Harry's hip; its brilliant rubies seemed to radiate the fire of Harry's love for her until they shone with the very color of her hair.
"Oh Harry."
'Oh Harry,' Ginny thought as she snapped the book shut and clutched it to her heart. 'One day he'll come,' she said to herself. 'One day my Harry will come for me.'
"Hello there, Weasley family?" a strange rough voice called from somewhere near, causing her to jump in fright.
"Wh-who's there?" the red-headed girl called.
"I'm Litigator Lichfield of Gringotts Bank, and I'm looking for the Weasley residence."
Ginny scrambled from her seat at the old dining room table and raced her way to the fireplace, slightly slipping on the smooth wooden floor. She tightened her bath robe around her. There, sure enough, was an old grizzled face staring up at her from the fire.
'It's hard to tell his face from the other logs on the fire,' she thought to herself. Quickly she gave herself a mental kick. 'That's not the way Harry's beloved behaves,' she reminded herself. 'She's always polite and demure.'
"This is the Burrow," she said to the man, hoping she came off as polite. "I'm Ginny Weasley. My mother's out back, do I need to get her?"
"Not necessary," the man said. "You can tell me what I need to know. Is this the home of a lad named Ron Weasley, or is there another place I should look?"
"Yes, he's here," Ginny said confused. "What would a litigator need with my brother? Is he in trouble?" Ginny asked smiling. She loved getting her brothers in trouble.
"Not at all. Just confirming the location," the strange litigator said. "I call on behalf of a certain client of mine, a client that your brother invited to stay with your family this summer."
"Invited to stay?" the girl asked. "The only person Ron's asked to stay was–." Suddenly her eyes went wide and she turned as pale as a sheet. "Oh, Merlin!"
"Yep," the rough old man said. "This is the place. He'll be there shortly."
With that the man's head disappeared from the fire with a pop.
'Oh Merlin!' Ginny thought to herself. 'Harry's coming. And he's got a litigator. He's going to ask dad for my bride price!'
The little girl ran to her room to get ready for what was sure to be the most important day in her life.
.o0O0o.
Harry opened the door slowly, not knowing what he'd find. Barchoke had said his old boss, Hammerhand, had been kept to an office by himself and away from the goblins who lived below ground after his family managed to win compensation from the bank for his injury. He had also warned him the familiarity Hammerhand had with his family might cause a bit of distress, so he should be mindful to play along.
What he hadn't expected was the sheer number of papers strewn about the room. Parchment was stuck to every available surface, some with large strange symbols, others with rows of numbers, while others had pictures of animals in various states of dress. Stags and snakes seemed particularly popular. Snakes with beards.
A goblin with thin wisps of white hair sticking up in every direction sat at the completely cluttered desk and was clothed in a thin dirty robe which reminded him forcefully of Dobby. Hammerhand seemed intent on his latest picture. The sound of the door must have alerted him for it was less than half open when the mad old goblin looked directly at him.
"James!" Hammerhand cried, mistaking Harry for his father. The goblin quickly ran around the desk to take his hand and sending papers fluttering along behind him. "Come in, come in!" the goblin said with a mad grin as he pulled him into the room. "Here, take a seat and tell me what's been going on."
Hammerhand tossed a stack of parchment out of the room's single visitor's chair and plopped Harry down upon it.
"Here for a bit of spending money, eh?" the old goblin said jovially. "You'll not get a knut without your father's say if you've gone over your allowance, young man," he laughed. Harry looked into his eyes, the lights there dim and disjointed.
"How are you feeling, Hammerhand?" Harry asked.
"Oh, fine, fine. Can't complain," the old goblin replied with a wan smile and vacant face.
The old Account Manager looked down at the shoe box in Harry's hands and tutted.
"James, James," he said. "A present? You've gone to presents now? I've told you before, new robes and a flashy broom is no way to woo a witch. Certainly not a witch worth wooing. Please don't tell me it's for her."
"Er– No, sir," Harry said, thinking quickly. "It's for my father."
"Oh yes," Hammerhand said somberly. "Terrible thing, that. I suppose anything that makes them happy in what time they have remaining–."
The dam finally broke and Hammerhand started to wail.
"Why, James, why?" the old goblin balled, clutching to the front of Harry's robes as tears ran down its cheeks. "Why did they have to die?"
"It's–It's okay," Harry tried to comfort the distressed old goblin. "It's just their time."
Harry looked over to Barchoke, silently asking for help.
"Too old!" Hammerhand wept. "Too old, too soon."
Barchoke reached down to the floor and picked up a stack of the parchment Hammerhand had sent flying to make room for Harry to sit.
"Sir," Barchoke said eagerly as if he had just come in. "I've got the file you wanted to see."
As quickly as that the old goblin was back to the way he was before his outburst.
"File? Oh! Barchoke! Come in," Hammerhand said. "Where have you been? Go make yourself useful and get young James here some tea."
"I'd love to, sir," Barchoke said, playing along. "Lichfield wants me to run him through something in Legal first though."
"Hm? Legal?" Hammerhand asked with a finger to his lips, looking for a moment very much like Barchoke. "Yes, I suppose it must be important if Lichfield's harping on about it. Very dedicated man there. We can catch up when you get done, James," he said to Harry and patted him on the arm. "And we can work on this Lily problem of yours. Throwing money about is not the way to get her. You just have to be you, James. That should be enough for her."
It was with a knot in the stomach Harry realized the old goblin had been talking about his mother the whole time.
"I'll keep that in mind, sir," Harry said.
Harry turned to go but Hammerhand grabbed him his robes and held him close, so they were eye-to-eye. The goblin might've been old but his grip was as iron hard as his name implied and his eyes were no longer dim but sharp with a different kind of madness.
"I tried to warn them," Hammerhand said gruffly. "But they wouldn't see."
"Sir?" Harry asked as he tried to peel the old goblin's hands off him.
"The figures and the sums," the Account Manager whispered. "They're not there. The snake. The snake took them! I don't like him! He took them!"
"I don't like him either, sir," Harry said, seeing one of the snake pictures on the wall. A snake with a long white beard.
"I tried to warn them," the goblin said again as Barchoke tried to separate them. "But they were as dumb as a door!"
"Sir!" Barchoke shouted. "Legal? James needs to go to Legal now."
Hammerhand's grip relaxed.
"Legal? Yes, yes," the goblin said with a wave. "Then why is he still here? I swear, Barchoke, you must be more diligent."
Hammerhand took up a handful of parchment and returned to his desk as Harry and Barchoke slipped back outside. Just as the door closed there came a cry from the other side. "As dumb as a door!"
"So you find what you were looking for?" a gruff voice asked behind him.
Harry turned to see Lichfield standing by the wall.
"Yes," Harry said. "I know who has the Key."
"We're really going to feel as dumb as a door when you tell us, aren't we?" Barchoke asked, his Concealer back in his hand.
"You could say that," Harry said.
.o0O0o.
The flames died down as the floo connection closed and the Overseer grew concerned.
"Do you think we should have warned him about the Weasleys?" he asked Lichfield as he fiddled with his Concealer, the salsa dancers it contained again giving him no comfort. He knew what his answer would've been if the question had been asked to him instead. "He should know, but I saw the look you had."
"It's better he not know. He's friends with them. It's best he's just himself for a while."
"He'll be embarrassed," Barchoke said.
"He'll be humble, and they'll know he's sincere. If they're going to take him seriously they've got to get to know him and what it means for the future."
"I know you're right on that," the goblin said. "It's what Charlus would've done. I think James would have told him though."
"You could never tell with James," Lester said. "He grew up. Especially if what your father says is true. And he grew cautious. Perhaps too cautious. How did your father take seeing him, by the way?"
"Remarkably well," Barchoke replied. "He only cried once, but it was a short visit."
"Part of me hopes I'm right about him. The same part that hopes Harry's wrong."
"I know the feeling. He's put together more than enough to get us a peek at–," even with the Concealer the goblin looked around and didn't dare use the name. "–at his file. But if we don't see anything there won't be anything we can do."
"And he," Lichfield said, sharing his friend's caution, "hasn't been sloppy enough to leave anything around that could be easily traced back to himself. No one around him will be easy to interview without tipping him off either. Until we can tear down the protections around Hogwarts itself we may not find anything."
"The fact Harry picked up on all that is remarkable," Barchoke said. "Worthy of your old line of work."
Lichfield nodded with a grunt.
"Did you see the way he took charge?" the goblin asked. "I was not expecting that."
Lichfield chose not to comment.
"He must have known he wouldn't be able to control everything once Harry entered Hogwarts," Barchoke continued. "But the depth of secrecy here, I haven't seen anything like it since You-Know-Who. I blame this on you. Damn you for always saying you wanted to go after someone intelligent. I prefer my criminals to be dumber than dragon droppings."
Lichfield turned to go.
"Where are you going?" the goblin scurried after him. "We've got a file to look at."
"You look at the file, there won't be anything there," the old bailiff said as the goblin tried to keep up with him. "I'm going to track down whoever conducted the Knight Bus today and confirm where Harry was picked up."
"We know where he lived, he have his address. And the coin will show–"
"Thoroughness," Lichfield interrupted. "That's how we'll win this thing. I'm interviewing them, this Cadogan man," he gestured with the box containing Harry's old shoes that was supposed to be a gift for the shoemaker. "–And whoever altered his robes this morning. That was a Hogwarts cut or I'm some flirty French flipskirt. I'm documenting every step that boy took since the time he started to walk."
"He said he didn't want the Dursleys involved."
"Then I'll interview everyone else on that street if I have to. I'm not having anyone say the wrong person locked down his Account or bewitched him to do it."
"–You think someone would – How do you even think these things?" the Overseer asked coming to a halt.
"Vigilance!" the Litigator cried as his long stride carried him away.
.o0O0o.
After trying on two others – a light blue that was said to be Harry's favorite, and a green for the color of his eyes – Ginny had picked a light, white sundress with pale flowers she hoped would make her look bride-like. She looked at herself in the mirror. Had she always been so pale? Ginny pinched her cheeks to bring more color to them.
She looked at the small clock on her desk. Harry should be here any minute. Ginny had no idea exactly when he would arrive, but she had to assume the worst. She had hoped to have time to pick flowers for an impromptu bouquet – wildflowers to suit her nature – but now didn't think she'd have the time. 'I've got to make a good impression,' she reminded herself for the thousandth time. Maybe she should change back to the blue?
'No,' she thought. 'White's good, white's pure, white's virtuous. ...White makes me look so pale,' she whined to herself.
Deciding it was too late to change again, Ginny darted out of her room.
"Oi!" Her brother Ron said as she knocked him into the banister on the stairs. "Watch it! Where are you going all dressed up?"
"Nowhere, go away," Ginny groused as she headed to the kitchen.
Ron may have invited Harry but she certainly didn't want him to ruin this for her. Today was the day she fixed what went wrong last year at the train station. 'Gone is the little girl,' she thought. 'Today I'm a young woman.'
George whistled when she entered.
"Will you take a look at her?" he asked, tossing a Quaffle back and forth from hand to hand.
"What's got you all gussied up? Lil' miss expecting a suitor?" Fred asked hefting a beater's bat threateningly.
"What? No!" she said a little too quickly before shooting them a look that said Don't you dare threaten my Harry.
"Oh boys, honestly," her mother said, coming through the kitchen with a load of wash to hang on the line outside. "It's not a crime for a girl to look nice from time to time. Leave her alone."
"Thanks, mum," Ginny said embarrassed, wishing they would all leave the room too.
She may never understand why her mother insisted with line drying the wash when magic was more convenient, no matter how often she said it 'smelled clean.' At least it got her out of the room. Ginny thought she'd make a horrible housewife. 'I can learn,' she thought to herself. 'I can learn for Harry. But I have to get him first.'
Ron came through with another beater's bat in hand and her brothers turned to go with identical shakes of their twin heads. Ginny shook hers right back. If Ron thought he was going to be anything other than target practice for their apple-shaped Bludgers today then he was sadly mistaken.
Before they could even reach the back door the fireplace flared to life like a brilliant emerald sun.
'This is it!' Ginny thought as suddenly all the air seemed to leave the room at once. She felt light-headed. 'Don't pass out. Don't pass out,' she chanted to herself as her entire world seemed to narrow to only that bright green flame.
Harry Potter stepped jaunting out of the flames in his stylish shoes as he shook off the dust of his latest adventure. Wind seemed to ripple around him as the flames died down; his handsome robes billowed behind him.
"Harry?" twin voices asked astonished.
"Bloody hell!" Ron exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"
"You invited me," Harry smiled.
'Oh how he smiles,' Ginny thought as she gazed in wonder at the dream made flesh.
"Why didn't you tell us you were coming?" Ron asked, still perplexed. "Did dad come and get you?"
"No, I came from Gringotts," Harry explained. "Didn't Lichfield tell you I'd be here?"
"Not to us he didn't," George said, giving Ginny a look.
'Lichfield,' Ginny thought as she tried to catch her breath. 'Lichfield the litigator. He should be right behind.'
"Mum! Harry's here!" Ron called to her.
She eyed the fireplace apprehensively as the others talked. 'Oh why couldn't dad be here so this could be done with?' she lamented, eager to start her new life as a soon-to-be-wife.
"Did someone say Harry?" her mother asked as she came back inside. "Oh, Harry! It's so good to see you…"
Moments passed and still no one else had arrived. Was there something wrong with their floo?
"Merlin!" her mother cried. "I've got the wash on the line." She bolted back outside to hide the offensive laundry from their company. Ginny didn't know how much more embarrassment she could take.
'Please don't let this go wrong!'
"Ginny!" her mother cried. "Ginny, come get your knickers!"
Ginny's world went black and she vaguely had the sense of falling. The poor girl fell to the floor with a thump.
.o0O0o.
AN: Well, he's out of the room and Ginny's been floored so I think I'll leave it there for now. Just so you know though, no, I'm not going for an Evil Dumbledore. Different people in the story will interpret his actions in ways which make sense to them but you have to see it from his own perspective to understand what's going on.
Thanks for reading.