Gornuk has an audience with the chieftain, and two sets of twins go to the kitchens
At his fine mahogany desk, Gornuk son of Nograk worked diligently through the morning. He sent for teams of nifflers to run vault balances, he approved transfers and large withdrawals, and he arranged payments to Rowle for his ongoing services. A faint distant whistle rapidly approached, and he caught a pneumatic capsule midair as it rocketed out of the tube on the wall behind him. It must be a high priority one, standard inter-office memos and messages remained floating in the tubes until they were retrieved.
Cracking the seal, he popped it open and pulled the letter out, smiling with amusement as he saw it was from his young patroness. As he read it however, his jaw tightened and he found himself grinding his teeth. He had to close his eyes and remind himself that she was a compassionate child who meant well, not a ministry wizard trying to get them to reveal their secrets. As much as he liked her, and would have personally chosen to answer some of her more benign questions to the best their taboos would allow him, he swore as he realized this was unfortunately above his pay-grade.
Tucking the letter securely into his waistcoat, he left his office in the lower hall where all the most senior accounts managers had the privilege of maintaining a space. He waddled the hall towards the lifts, and took it down to the lowest basement floor where the horde's internal administrative offices were. He didn't have an appointment, and he knew there was a good chance he could lose face showing up unannounced, but this was too important to ignore.
As he approached the doors of the chieftain's personal office, he bowed low and addressed the guards standing vigil "I have with me a piece of correspondence from the Lady Black that it is vitally important his greatness oversee" he grumbled lowly, eyes facing the floor and not rising. Their armor was perfectly silent as it was of course goblin forged, but he heard the shifting scrape of their heavy axe handles moving as they stood aside to make room for him to pass through, and finally stood back up to his full height.
Nodding and thanking them, he made his way to the heavy ornate doors and knocked. He tried not to wince as the noise rang out loudly through the hall. He heard a voice from within tell him to enter, and he stepped back to allow the guards to open the doors. As he went in he tried to steel himself against whatever personal fondness he might have for his patroness. She had committed no crime, but her curiosity could very well make her an enemy. He would do his best to advocate for her and vouch for her kind heart, but he had no idea just what the chieftain might make of this development.
The finery he passed as he entered the chieftain's personal office was above and beyond any that a goblin even such as himself would ever see outside of one of the vaults of the men they served. Richly embroidered cloth-of-gold tapestries hung from the walls, and goblin silver weapons and armor of all types were mounted decoratively on the walls. He idly wondered which of them their great leader had made himself, as his craftsmanship was highly regarded throughout the clans and he produced pieces that were generally considered to be master works.
As he came up to the grand desk, which was rumored to have been carved entirely from the same piece of wood from an ancient and sacred tree, he fell to one knee without hesitation, and waited to be acknowledged. He heard a startled laugh and then felt hands on his shoulders attempt to pull him up "Whatever are you doing on the floor, uncle? Surely there is no need for such formality between us?" Looking up he shook his head and stayed resolutely where he was on the floor.
"I'm afraid there is cause for it when I approach you not as my sister's son, but as my chieftain, your greatness" Gornuk replied solemnly, and was sad to see his nephew's boyishly handsome face suddenly become serious. The lad nodded respectfully and his bearing transformed to something somehow visibly more regal. He leaned on the edge of his desk with his hands folded in his lap "Very well, what brings you before me, Senior Manager Gornuk?"
Reaching into his waistcoat pocket he pulled out the letter, running his fingers along the edges of the parchment, carefully considering what context if any he needed to provide or whether he should let her innocent words speak for themself. He looked up at his favorite nephew, the leader of their people, and trusted that the young man would understand "This letter came to me from… a preferred client, one whom I believe to be both trustworthy and sincere. I can neither answer her nor ignore her questions without your input, my chieftain"
He handed the letter to his nephew, and couldn't help himself from adding "She's eleven years old… if it makes any difference" he said, grimacing at his own weakness of spirit. Dread filled his belly as his nephew unfolded the letter and read it.
Dated September 7th, 1991
From my desk in the first year girl's dormitory
Gryffindor Tower of Hogwarts School
Near Hogsmeade, Scotland
To Gornuk son of Nograk,
Greeting again, sir. I write you not because of any banking matters, but out of cultural curiosity. I have thoroughly enjoyed my first week of school, and in attending my classes I have met a professor by the name of Filius Flitwick. He teaches charms and is a renowned international dueling champion. I understand that this may be an off putting or uncomfortable topic of discussion (and if it is please let me know and I will desist my inquiry immediately), but as a werewolf his status as a half goblin intrigues me greatly.
I have spent a few afternoons since my class with the professor searching for reference material in the library that I might use to answer my questions, but upon finding nothing that was printed in the last three centuries that wasn't written exclusively by humans, I cannot help but feel as if those sources may be biased. As a fellow magical being whose existence has been demonized by wizarding society, I am hesitant to trust information that doesn't come straight from the wolves' mouth so to speak. All that is to say that I feel I must simply be direct and ask you instead, my friend.
I cannot help but notice that I have seen no goblin children since I arrived here, or even any children that I suspect of being half goblins like the professor. It occurs to me that I have never seen or even heard reference to the existence of any goblin children. I know you and your brethren are inherently magical beings like us, and I have seen you wield magic as easy as anything. Is there a reason you do not send your children to school with the humans?
Do you perhaps find the school's educational standards less rigorous than you would like? I know Harry and I were disappointed to find our tutor had already gone through most of this year's material with us, but I firmly believe that learning in the presence of others our own age will be worth the frustration in the long run. I know you and your brethren are long lived compared to humans, do you perhaps not currently have any children of school age in your society who could attend with us? If this is the case please forgive my unintended insensitivity.
I understand from my own father's fear of revealing information about the children of our pack that it may be atypical to trust outsiders regarding such secrets, so as a show of good faith I shall share with you that there are at least four school-age magical children who happen to be werewolves living on our compound who have not received admission letters to attend Hogwarts, and at least five more who most likely will not either. The only logical conclusion we have been able to come to is that my brother and I were admitted due to being the scions of important families. I readily admit to being deeply troubled by the politicization of our education. Even now as I write this, rumors of the two of us being werewolves sweep across the school and I wonder if we will be allowed to remain in attendance after all, despite our important names.
If you do have children and their education is currently being satisfactorily sorted within your lands by your horde, then please let me know that I have no cause for concern. Otherwise, I would like to know what I can do to help address the issue of lack of goblin representation at this institution. It is my greatest desire to see not only myself and my brother, but also the other magical children in our pack all receive the same education.
I confess that I do not know how I will be able to convince the school board to let the other werewolf children attend or if it is even possible, but I would like for us to work together if this is an issue of educational rights violation that our non-human races both face as magical beings.
I hope that this letter finds you well, and that it does not reopen or poke at old wounds. You have helped me tremendously over the past year as my accounts manager, and I am sincerely grateful for both your advice and your long stewardship of my family's accounts.
May your blade be ever sharp and your coffers overrun
(Is that an appropriate sign off? It was described as a 'respectful greeting' in one of the least offensive library books, but that text did also refer to your collective language as 'gobbledegook' so I wasn't sure either way)
Kindest regards :)
Hermione Elena Greyback
His nephew looked at him with wide eyes and raised brows "You really thought I would be upset about this? Uncle, your years of dealing with invasive and cruel human bureaucracy must weigh heavy on you, for you worry over nothing. This girl is practically offering to go into open rebellion with us, at the very least she is certainly no enemy or danger to our horde. In fact I have heard rumors of her magic and what she has done already, and I am nothing short of impressed. Claiming her seat solely to restore family branches, invoking her magic powerfully enough for every goblin in the bank to feel it," he shook his head in awe, and turned a knowing eye towards him.
"A lesser banker may not have been able to get anything of the sort out of her, and she could have left our institution that day changing nothing. Don't think for a moment that I'm not well aware I have you to thank for that, with your sharp eye and silver tongue. Where others would have seen a diamond and thoughtlessly plucked it loose, you saw the mithril ring it was set into and polished the whole thing altogether" he praised, beaming boyishly.
"If we work this to our advantage, we could have two or even more sitting members of the wizengamot on our side for the next rebellion, and we could be seeing it sooner than we had ever planned on top of having a greater impact than ever before. Are you not reminded of the first and only time the werewolves joined our side, and our movement seized more in less time than ever our rioting and rebelling had ever accomplished before then or since in its long storied tradition?" His nephew had stars in his eyes as he spoke of events from before his own birth. Though young, he'd always undertaken a keen and thorough study of their history, taking a particular interest in their many wars and uprisings. He was a passionate lad, and sharp as a tack.
"History repeats itself, and we could make it happen again. We have you to thank for this opportunity Uncle, and this fey werewolf child you've made such a strong alliance with. Write back to her and forget about the taboos… Say whatever you must to cultivate her into the ally we need. If she is as good hearted as you say, then she needs to be informed about just how dire our situation really is. Therefore you have my full permission to tell her anything she wishes to know. Speak with Griphook as well, I want him working on her brother. The boy will need to challenge for his seat soon anyways, not that there's anyone else who could claim it"
Gornuk nodded, and after briefly embracing and bonking foreheads with his nephew, he eagerly hurried out. It was still sometimes hard to believe his own sister's son was their leader now, but he was proving himself to be a good one. One who thought first and listened to wise counsel, and who ultimately acted in the horde's collective best interest. He was proud of the boy, and proud to be in his service.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Stopping at the office a few doors down from his own, he knocked and then entered when invited in. It wasn't quite as large or comfortable as his own, and in his opinion the varnish of his desk was of a finer quality, but it was perfectly respectable for a senior manager. One who was slightly less senior than himself. He sat across from his long time colleague, and wordlessly pushed the letter over to him. Griphook picked it up, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. By the time he was through reading, he was holding it at a distance with only the very tips of his long fingers, looking at it as though it were a lit stick of dynamite in his hands.
He set it back down extremely carefully, shoving it towards Gornuk with only a single claw touching the pages "Why would you bring this to me, you scuttling son of a cave rat? Do you think I'm not particularly fond of my head just because you don't have to worry about yours!?" He demanded harshly "Tell me you haven't actually answered questions like this from her before?" He said much more seriously, his voice dropping to a horrified whisper.
He grinned with every one of his sharp teeth, and threw in a jazzy waggle of his arched brows "Luckily for both of our heads I've just shown this to the chieftain, who thinks we should work together to get both Lady Black and her brother onboard for the next rebellion. Might even rush the timeline if we can manage to get actual wizengamot seats behind us. I got the impression he wants to reenact the old werewolf treatise from the 1750s, it's sure to be quite the coup" he said coyly, running his tongue over his teeth.
"I got clearance to tell her anything she wants to know, and you've the same for the boy. He really wants this to work, thinks throwing our weight behind the two of them is our best bet in the long run and I don't disagree" he said casually, looking down and pretending to inspect his long elegant claws. The games the two of them played were delicious, and he could feel the other goblin chugging along to catch up and find a clever response to being essentially told he had free reign to share government secrets with a literal child.
"Alright. I'll just make pen friends with Harry Potter and start telling him about how we're classed as animals and not allowed to even touch wands then, shall I?" Griphook snarked miserably, and the blood ran hot beneath his skin with a zing of electricity as he realized this was a competition he already had a leg up in "You mean to say you haven't already been working on the boy? That's a shame, my kind and generous Patroness corresponds with me quite regularly, both for bank matters…" he said archly as he waved the letter under the other goblin's nose "and social calls" he finished with his nastiest grin.
The other goblin positively seethed, his alabaster skin turning nearly puce "I'll have that boy eating out of the palm of my hand before the month is over, you vicious scum sucking little toad" he shrieked furiously, his claws carelessly digging thick gouges into the surface of his own desk. That certainly explained the inferior varnish.
The next morning at breakfast, Harry and Hermione were surprised to both have letters come to them from Gringotts. She'd become more and more anxious ever since she'd reached out to Gornuk that she'd be receiving word back to cease and desist all further inappropriate inquiries. Her certainty that the friendship and rapport they'd built would be enough to at least forgive her questions if they were unwelcome had faded rapidly, and she was quite frightened of what she might find if they'd written both herself and her brother. Surely the goblins wouldn't apply a collective punishment to the both of them just for her impropriety?
The two officious little owls that had swooped in in perfect unison sat politely at the table, holding out their feet and waiting to be fed and praised for their hard work. Their downy chests were puffed with the bank sigils they wore. Her brother turned a weary early morning look her way "And who exactly have you been writing to now that they saw fit to involve me in whatever you're currently scheming about as well?" He huffed grumpily. And she tried to ignore the very real guilty feeling that she may have ruined both of their banking prospects.
She made a great show of shrugging carelessly, patting the owl's soft little head and putting a piece of bacon in its beak "That's the thing about letters, you open them up and they generally say who they're from on the inside" she snarked coolly, taking her own with a trembling hand.
8th of Hāligmōnath, 1991
Office of Black Accounts
Gringotts Bank, Diagon Alley
London, England
Lady Black,
Hello to you, my patroness. There is a great compassion and kind-heartedness to the questions you have asked me, and for that reason the chieftain of our horde has given me leave to answer them with a degree of factuality and transparency that we would normally not allow humans to be privy to. You are after all, like us, not exactly human.
You are so young, and your questions are clearly very innocent, but they are painful all the same. I hate to burden you with the answers, for they are terrible, but it is better to know a terrible truth than to not know and suffer for it.
You see my lady, the truth of the matter is that for all our people run the bank and are a necessary part of the functioning of the wizarding world as a whole, we are classed by the British ministry of magic as little more than animals. Our official designation is creature. We are strictly forbidden from purchasing, owning, inheriting, or even touching wands. We face life in Azkaban for breaking this law - and as you know our lives are quite long-lived.
There has never been a full-blooded goblin that attended Hogwarts, and your professor Flitwick is well known to us as the only part-goblin in living memory who has been accepted and educated at that school. The sad truth of the matter is that we do have children, they are uncommon to us and precious. We teach them what magic we have, but we are hindered enormously by the inability to give them magical foci to use or a more standardized magical education. Many of the human staff we have at the bank secretly double as tutors for our children, teaching them what little wandless magic they are able to master.
There innumerable other difficulties we face. Outside of the safety of our own humble conclaves, it is hard to find any human witch or wizard who will sell to us at all, let alone at fair prices. There is a well known phenomenon of the "goblin tax" that is essentially a 30-60% markup vendors add to their wares when dealing with our kind. There are no laws preventing this, punishing vendors for it, or protecting us from it. It is simply another of the daily inconveniences and indignities we must face.
Crimes against our people are so frequently ignored by the aurors and the department of magical law enforcement that we have learned to stop reporting them at all unless they are truly egregious beyond our own ability to mitigate. When we bring our troubles and hurts to them we are most often asked what we did to provoke such actions against us, or why we did not try harder to protect ourselves. It is an unbearable insult to add to our injury.
We have rebelled as one many times before throughout the ages, as you will learn in your history class. Your professor may paint horrifying images of us mounted and armed and armored, going around beheading any wizard who doesn't wish to give us their gold, but this could not be further from the truth. By shutting our doors for even a day we can bring the economy of the wizarding world to its feet, and yet even in their desperation to placate us each time we do so, the rights we gain are always just as quickly stripped away from us again.
The laws against your kind are very nearly worse. While there is nothing that currently legally forbids you from wand use or ownership, there are those in the ministry who fiercely advocate for harsher sanctions against your kind. Some have even suggested a mandatory registry, which would be catastrophically inhumane. Additionally, while some werewolves may pass as humans if they are discrete enough, those who succeed at this deception and receive better treatment are dramatically more likely to experience total community exile and have overall worse life outcomes if they are discovered and outed.
Yet despite the enormous odds stacked against both our people, I have never felt more hope for the future. Quite frankly the reason is you, my lady. As the head of the Black house, you have a tremendous amount of social potential at your fingertips. And you are kind. The people in power are so rarely good, let alone kind. You have the ability now, not years from now when you come of age but right this moment as a legitimate member of the wizarding aristocracy, to either sit the Black wizengamot seat yourself or appoint a trusted proxy. Your brother could do the very same thing if he challenged for his Potter lordship. There is no one else living who has a claim, therefore there is no reason why he would not be able to assume his lordship as easily as you did.
I hope that this not only answers your questions, but provokes thought and inspires even more questions. Any and all of which I will be more than happy to answer. A sharp and inquisitive mind is the greatest tool one can possess. And we goblins are always glad for our allies to be well equipped.
(The book you found at your library was both right and wrong, and it was wise of you to assume it was not entirely correct. "Gobbeldegook" is in fact a slur, we allow outsiders to use it because we want them to know as little about our culture as possible. As I said we have many rules about what humans can be told, but the chieftain has declared that since you are not a human they do not apply to you. The true name of the language we speak is "Goē-blanskk" and the greeting you found is surprisingly mostly correct. The only difference we would apply when using it is that it is not a single statement but rather a two part greeting - upon meeting, one person says "may your blade be ever sharp" to which the other responds "may your coffers runneth over")
In your service,
Gornuk son of Nograk :)
The tension in her frame eased astronomically as she read through his letter and realized he wasn't cross with her, but her rage built as he described the injustices and indignities both their peoples faced. She had to assume that the werewolves he described as being discriminated against after being outed were all loners who didn't have packs to fall back on, and she briefly wondered just how many there could really be. None of her pack mates ever bit or even scratched humans on the full moon, they ran through the woods chasing deer and rabbits, or curled up in groves and caves.
It had to be the loners that were creating more loners, and she burned with curiosity at what the incident rate was. If every werewolf with no pack turned and lost control every full moon, how often was it that they actually bit and turned another person? It was almost unthinkable to her, but could it be possible that more and more werewolves were being created against their will every full moon?
Surely if the loners knew the danger of totally losing control they would make arrangements for themselves to be locked up somewhere safe like professor McGonagall had initially suggested her and her brother do? She knew that was what Remus used to do for most of his life, her heart had ached for him when she'd heard how he'd chained up his poor wolf.
It occurred to her as she thought about Remus and the other loners out there that if he hadn't known about the possibility of having peace with his wolf after a lifetime of being one, it was very likely that none of the rest of them did either. Could it really be that none of the loner wolves knew there was the possibility of a better life for themselves? Wizards in general certainly didn't seem to know.
She looked over her brother's shoulder, not surprised that the letter he was reading was from Griphook or that it was significantly shorter and less friendly, but remarkably more candid.
8th of Hāligmōnath, 1991
Office of Potter Accounts
Gringotts Bank, Diagon Alley
London, England
Mr Potter Greyback,
Greetings young sir, I write to remind you of your sole claim over the Potter House's heir and lordship seats, and your eligibility to challenge for them unopposed. While witnessing your sister's unusual challenge may have been off putting for any number of reasons, I can assure you that there need be no such dramatics, and that supervising the challenging of a claim is a standard service offered by Gringotts that happens on a fairly regular basis. We see these sorts of things all the time.
The Potter family magic is far less fickle and fey than the Blacks' and altogether less likely to throw you into the deep end unexpectedly. I have worked with it for years to oversee your house's account holdings, and it is a steady and reliable partner to the Head it approves.
I also write because your sister, in her childlike innocence and curiosity, has asked her accounts manager questions which we usually do not answer. When I read the letter she sent Gornuk I nearly fainted dead away, a less favored client would find themselves no longer banking with us, nor would any of their extended family. The Lady Black is a special case however, and therefore the chieftain of our horde has decided that the two of you are to be treated as not just preferred clients, but potential allies.
Werewolves and goblins have allied together once before, during the rebellion of 1752 in which we both found ourselves fighting for similar civil liberties. We are eager to see such a union occur again, as our alliance then was powerfully effective. The fact of the matter is that wizards hate us both, werewolf and goblin alike. They at least tolerate our kind because of the banking services we provide, and your kind are at least able to sometimes hide yourselves among them if you are discrete enough. As rumors spread of your true nature however, you and your sister may find life become increasingly difficult in any number of ways.
Never forget that they can kill you in the streets and cry self defense about it later. Since the very incipience of the ministry itself there have been an uncountable number of werewolves killed in cold blood, and yet no wizard has ever been charged with murder for it or faced time in Azkaban. At least they'll get a slap on the wrist if they try and do the same to us. They might not be sent to jail for killing a goblin, but they'll definitely be fined by their ministry for "damaging bank property".
Think about the changes you could help both our people enact if you and your sister both took up your hereditary seats on the wizengamot! Neither of our races have ever had even a single seat that we could claim, think about what we could do with two who were sympathetic to the simple belief that we are not creatures but people? For the same cannot be promised of any of the others who sit in that hall and make the laws and decisions that affect all of us.
I hope to see you at the bank soon, and to be able to correctly address you as 'Lord Potter' when you leave
In the service of the House of Potter,
Griphook son of Axecleave
"…Just what the fuck did you ask Gornuk, Nene?" Harry whispered as he finished reading, horrified but fascinated. He held it out to her and they swapped and read each other's letters. He closed his eyes as he finished and rubbed his forehead "We're gonna be a part of their rebellion then?" He asked weakly, and she placed her hand on his back and rubbed large soothing circles "Yeah buddy. I mean, this isn't what I was expecting at all and I can't force you to take your seat if you aren't ready for it, but I'm pretty sure we are" she said, catching his eye knowingly as he cracked them the slightest bit back open.
"Can you believe that?" he asked, picking up her letter and looking for the part that had so enraged him "Not allowed to purchase own inherit or use a wand for any reason" he read back aloud, struggling to keep his voice low. Two pink spots rose on his cheeks and she nodded, "Gornuk was nicer, but Griphook was a lot more open with you about the violence and danger. I can't believe a wizard is charged with damaging bank property if they kill a goblin, it's the craziest thing I've ever heard aside from werewolf killers just not facing any consequences whatsoever" she replied, anger building in her as well.
"Who in the bloody hell do they think they are treating people like this just because they think we're beneath them? Why are the wizards like this?" She asked a bit too loudly, and realized their conversation was altogether too public as a few heads turned and looked at her askance. She flushed and grimaced, and lowered her volume until it was a nearly sub-vocal whisper that no one but a dog or her brother next to her would be able to hear. To protect the privacy of their conversation further, she switched to Danish.
"Can we even tell Ron and Draco about this? They're family, but this is really big. Like they broke their own laws to tell us about this, big. I know I like to faff about and do independent things that give dad heart attacks, but I'm making the executive call that this is actually too big for just the two of us to decide. I think we need to take it to dad when we see him on the full moon. He's still our father and our alpha, even if we're living away from him for a while" she exhaled through her barely open lips.
Hermione glanced to her side to look at her brother with her peripheral vision, but for the first time in a long time she wasn't exactly sure what the look on his face meant "Harry d-do you disagree?" She breathed, suddenly anxious again. She'd only been the alpha of their small pack of two for barely a week, had she already lost her beta's trust by not seeking his input before writing her letter to Gornuk? She felt a low whine build in the back of her throat and was nearly helpless to resist letting it free. He placed his hand on her arm and squeezed tightly, shaking his head and responding in Danish as well as at the same volume she'd used.
"I don't disagree that this is big and we should consult dad, but I still think that here at school you're the one in charge of the two of us, that's just how it's got to be. You're still the alpha until we see him again, and if you want to pursue this with the goblins then it's what we're going to do. I don't want to question dad but… he's been the alpha for decades, how can he have known about this and done nothing to help the loners if they're really in as much danger as Griphook says? Your very first instinct is to try and find a way to help them, and his has always been to distance ourselves from them. It puts me in a position where I think your voice is the moral authority here. I can predict with 100% certainty what your plan is going to be because I know you'll always do the right thing even if it's hard and messy. I know that whatever dad does will be in our best interest to protect us, but I can't say for certain it'll also protect the loners, and I don't know what to think about that" he said, pain etched over his face. He looked down at his hand on her arm and realized he had been squeezing too tight, letting go and subtly turning his neck to the side in submissive apology.
She reached for his hand and held it, and nuzzled her cheek into the hollow of his shoulder, and they rested that way together quietly for a few moments before she responded "Everyone says I have a kind heart, but they forget that I learned it from him. Miriam and Matty and Óffy and everyone else were there to step in and help when he needed it while he was grieving my mum, but he mostly raised me all by himself for a very long time."
"I think you're right about him not helping the loner wolves, but not for the reason you think. I can't excuse what he did or didn't do before he met mum and had me, but I think he's been so focused on keeping us hidden and alive that he just forgot about the outside world for a long time. I don't think he actually wouldn't help them, but you're right that he's always going to prioritize our safety and wellbeing over theirs. He wouldn't see the law changed just for them if it risked us, but he might do it for us and the threat it puts us under" she said, genuinely believing it.
Her father was protective and his children were always going to be his first priority, but he cared about the well being of werewolves. She knew he did, he had to. He wouldn't be an alpha if he didn't. Just because he was worried about the very real risk they posed didn't mean he couldn't also be concerned for their rights.
She stopped suddenly, a thought rapidly taking shape in her mound "Harry…" she said tentatively "Do you think we should ask Kipper about all this? If the wizards are willing to treat us and the goblins this way, and we could actually hurt them if we wanted to, who's to say how they're treating their house elves?" Their eyes both widened as they made eye contact and both thought of the implications of her statement "Goddesses be good but they're just sweet little things, what could they even do to protect themselves? And yeah it's… a little weird how happy they say they are to serve" Harry retorted in low pointed Danish.
He gave it a moment of thought "We have to be extremely careful if we're going to talk to her. If she works for the castle we have to make sure she isn't obligated to tell anyone else who lives here what we ask her - like the headmaster" he said grimacing, and she nodded in staunch agreement "Do you think we should approach just her, or other kitchen elves as well? We might get more answers from a bunch of them, and who knows what thinking you were dead for a decade has done to the poor thing. She seemed really upset and overwhelmed when we talked to her last week"
Harry thought about this "Let's ask Fred and George to show us to the kitchens after dinner tonight and see where it goes from there" he suggested, and she laughed a bit nervously at his willingness to leave things to chance. For all they had in common they could be so different at times it boggled her mind. Shaking her head fondly, she shrugged "Yeah, alright. Get a lay of the land at the very least, see how they behave as a group. Having extra information couldn't hurt"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
At lunch, Hermione had managed to discretely convey a message to the twins that they were very interested in receiving a lesson in the cartographical arrangement of the castle on the hush from their older and wiser cousins. The twin she had approached had been beyond delighted to be sought out for guidance and had readily agreed, telling her to wait a few minutes after he and his brother left at dinner that night and then follow them out of the hall.
In her excitement the day dragged on, but the affect was mitigated by the times in her nervousness that it seemed to rush forward. She wasn't sure if trying to get information out of the house elves was really the right call, she'd never seen one that seemed even remotely unhappy. Part of her hoped that a good opportunity to ask their questions would simply never organically come up in conversation, but she dismissed that as self defeating.
Finishing the last few bits of her evening meal, she saw the twins rise out of their seats and swagger out of the hall. One of them loudly proclaimed that they had to send their mum an owl, not the worst excuse overall. According to the family grapevine they were actually somewhat better at writing home than either Ron and Percy. Nudging her brother with a sharp elbow, their eyes followed the boys out of the hall. When the twins crossed the entryway they began to wait and Hermione counted to a hundred under her breath before using the same excuse for the both of them - that they had to go write their dad for the week. No one batted an eye as they left, putting in a significant amount of effort to appear slow and casual.
As soon as the doors shut behind them, she raised her nose to the air and whiffed in a deep breath like a sniffer dog. Her ears pricked and she heard them giggle at her from around the corner of the nearest corridor. She flushed, she probably should have just looked around first before trying to track them down, they weren't even really hiding. In fact, they were waving cheerfully from around said corner, mirth clear on their faces.
She grumbled and crossed her arms as Harry dragged her over to them, and firmly ignored them pretending to sniff her back. One of them clapped his hands and rubbed his palms together a bit deviously. It didn't remotely intimidate her, but it did make her roll her eyes at how downright melodramatic the two of them could be.
"Not every day we get two ickle firsties-"
"-asking the likes of us for a castle tour!"
"That's awfully trusting of them-"
"-they must be terribly curious!"
"Especially if it's somewhere they couldn't find on their own-"
"-with those sensitive wolfy noses of theirs!"
"Wherever can we direct you to first?"
Playing to their strengths and wanting to give their cousins a laugh, Harry and Hermione attempted to one up them, replying in perfect haunting unison "We need to go to the kitchens." One of the twins leapt into his brothers arms in a show of fright, and they both shivered and shuddered as if in terror, but had a hard time hiding their smiles. "To the kitchens it is then" they replied also in unison, to which Harry and Hermione didn't even try to hide their laughter.
They followed after them obediently until they realized they were heading down to the dungeons, and Hermione paused "I bet we could have asked Ron and Draco, isn't their common room down here?" She asked a bit tartly. Harry nodded, frowning "I can't believe they don't even need to eat like we do and they live right next door to the bloody kitchens. I'd be here asking the elves for snacks morning noon and night" he said petulantly.
"Would you believe it if we told you the Puffs are down here as well?" Asked one twin smugly, "That's their common room entrance right over there, it's hidden in one of the lids" the other pointed as they passed a huge stack of barrels. They made brief eye contact with each other before adding "You could probably smell it, but there's a vinegar self-defense system built in that gives you a good spraying if you try the wrong one or get the password incorrect… Let's just say we've been doused a few times trying to make our way in"
That earned a very real laugh from Hermione, and she stopped and snuck over to the barrels, sniffing deep and doing some good old fashioned scent work. She conferred with her brother, and when they were in agreement turned to their cousins "I can't say what the password is, you'll have to find that our on your own. But it's definitely this one that people are regularly coming and going out of" she said pointing to one on the bottom row that was suspiciously smooth and splinter-free upon closer inspection. She ran a fingernail lightly around the edge of it, and was unsurprised to see that it was actually made of carved brown stone rather than cut wood like the others. She nodded again at the twins, confident in her assessment.
They seemed a bit gobsmacked, and came close to press their hands to the surface of it reverently, startling when they felt the texture and temperature of the cool stone surface "Blimey but that should have been obvious-" said one "-it's not even bloody wood!" finished the other. They grinned at her madly, each hooking an arm through one of hers and carting her off. She was much less amused by this.
"This way to the kitchens-"
"-We're not far now, not far at all!"
A few twists and turns away from the barrels, they stopped next to a rather large painting of a still life of fruit. It was nearly the height of the entire corridor, and ten feet wide or more. If it was a tapestry it wouldn't have garnered a second glance, but the detail in the paint was so exquisite she almost felt as if she could lean in and take a bite out of the fruit. The skin of the orange was puckered and lumpy like cellulite, every pore visible and magnified. The pear was impossibly freckled, and looked so ripe she could almost smell it. One of the twins sauntered up to it and tickled it and it started to wiggle! Like a conjuration, a handle appeared on the side of it, and the entire piece of fruit as big as she was tall swung open from its canvas like a door.
Her jaw dropped, and she audibly gasped, rushing forward to poke her head through. Her brother looked at her like she was certifiable "We live in a tower that's protected by a secret painting," he reminded her, and she couldn't help but shrug "yeah, but this feels different somehow. This is a secret passageway, it's like… Nancy Drew shit. Like a mystery novel, you know? Just give me a moment and I'll get over it, but this is really cool" she insisted, and he begrudgingly couldn't argue that.
Harry turned to their cousins "Thank you for helping us find our way here, we've been really needing to talk to Kipper for a few days. She was my nanny elf and somehow she ended up working here in the kitchens after my parents died," he said as earnestly as possible, hoping to make them uncomfortable and get them to leave quickly. He bit the inside of his cheek hard, trying to get even a single tear to well up "She came to meet us in my dorm the first night we got here, but she's been working really hard and hasn't been able to see us again since" he said, feeling his voice break a little and internally praising himself on an exceptional performance.
It worked like magic, and he felt a bit guilty when both their faces fell dramatically "Blimey Harry… We'll introduce you and then just give you some privacy to have a nice chat with her then, yeah?" One of them said with a slight tremor in his voice, and he gave them both a watery smile "Thanks guys, I really appreciate it" he replied, and heard his sister snort faintly from where her head was poked inside the doorway.
One of them cleared their throat and gently nudged Hermione's shoulder to get her to move out of the way, and she very gamely allowed herself to be moved. They entered the deceptively enormous kitchen to see that everything was perfectly toddler sized, and Hermione was reminded of her first memory of the public library and how delighted she had been that the table and chairs were the right size for her. There were dozens of stoves and ovens and countertops and work benches and all of it topped out at about the height of their mid-thighs.
As dinner was finishing, the elves had mostly stopped cooking and were in the process of beginning to clean everything up. Dozens if not a hundred or more elves all rushed around clearing serving platters, rinsing out plates and cups and bowls, and scouring out pots and pans. Most of the work was done by hand but they used magic here and there as needed. Hermione carefully observed that when they did so they did it wandlessly with snaps of their fingers, much like the goblins at the bank. She raised her eyebrows at her brother and he nodded, he'd noticed the same thing.
As soon as the first elf noticed them they were swarmed with happy little bodies all around them. They saw a very old and hunched over little elf making his way slowly towards them, and both crouched down to greet him with a smile "Hello Nilliams!" Hermione said happily, holding out her arm for him to lean on, which he did contentedly "Young sirs and miss be getting all the elvesies excited" he croaked with a wry little grin.
"Sorry, we didn't mean to distract everybody!" She replied a bit embarrassed "We didn't realize you'd still be busy - would you like us to come back later after you're done with dinner?" She asked politely. Excited happy murmurs spread through the elves around them "Young miss is so thoughtful!" "It is being no trouble miss!" "We elvesies can work and help young miss at the same time!" Several of them all spoke over each other at once, and she couldn't help but giggle at their sweet eagerness.
She looked at Harry and rose a brow, letting him take the lead. He blushed but nodded "I'm Harry and this is Hermione, and we're the Greyback twins. We came to see Kipper if she's not busy. Does anyone know if she's feeling any better?" He asked, raising his voice slightly so they could hear him over the buzzing of their little crowd. The noise dropped to almost nothing as the elves all looked at the two of them intensely, and the only noise was pans clattering in the background.
Kipper pushed forward through the crowd to come to the front and stood staring, a bit removed from them until Harry crouched next to his sister on the floor and held open his arms. The little elf ran into them jubilantly, practically launching herself at her boy and hugging him tightly. Tears ran down both of their faces, and Hermione was smiling hugely next to them. She looked around the kitchen and felt a bit guilty but overall relieved that their cousins had kindly made themselves scarce.
She turned back to the ancient old elf leaning on her arm who was little and light enough that she hardly felt his weight at all "Thank you for explaining about the food to us Nilliams, I've been making sure to eat as much as I need for every meal, and the deputy headmistress even talked to all our house mates about how everyone needs to eat a different amount while they're growing! No one's said a single thing about how much I eat since" she said with a grateful smile.
Nilly patted his wrinkly little hand on her elbow "Good, miss, good. Nothing be making us elvesies sadder than a hungry child that won't be eating" he said pointedly. She felt a bit turned around, as if she'd gotten played but couldn't figure out how. Her eyes narrowed and his old body shook like a leaf with laughter.
She was surprised when Kipper reached over and took her hand, dragging both Harry and herself over to a cozy little table by a fireplace in the far corner of the kitchens. She picked up Nilliams under her arm and carried him so he wouldn't fall or get stranded in the middle of the room without something to lean on. He made a funny noise a bit like a cat, but seemed otherwise perfectly content.
They sat at the table and a pair of elves brought over steaming mugs of hot chocolate and plates of biscuits for them. When she realized Kipper was sitting on the surface of the tabletop, she gingerly set Nilliams down there next to her and held out her hands to help steady him as he lowered himself down. He allowed her to help him, and then brushed her hands away once he was settled.
In the light and warmth of the fireplace, and with a good week to rest since the terrible day she'd had, Kipper looked significantly better than when they'd first met her. Her eyes were clear and bright, her smile was radiant, and she looked easily twenty years younger. Before she had been wearing a plain tidy white tea towel with the Hogwarts shield crest on it, but she was now garbed in a green tartan poncho that had a cauldron and wands rampant embroidered proudly on it.
She saw them eyeing it curiously and held it up so they could see it better "This is being the Potter family sigil, everything Kipper wore in the service of her family used to be having it stitched on" she said only a bit sadly. She smiled at Harry and reached out to hold his hand "Kipper is being ready to talk now if young Master is having questions" she said gently.
He squeezed her little hand "How long were you a Potter elf, Kipper?" Harry asked, suddenly not sure if he was ready for what answers she might give him. He took a deep glug of his chocolate to hide his sudden insecurity, and nearly moaned at how good it was. He was fairly certain he had whipped cream on the end of his nose, and he tried to wipe at it discretely.
"Kipper's parents Nipper and Bippy is both being Potter elvesies, so Kipper is always being a Potter elf her whole life. Kipper is not always being a nanny elf, she is working in the kitchens for a few decades while she is being a baby elf. The very first Potters Kipper is helping raise is being young Master's great-great-grandfather Ferdinand and his brother Charlus. Then she is helping Master Ferdy raise his son Henry, then Master Henry's son Fleamont, then Master Monty's son James, then Master Jamie's son… Kipper's baby Harry" she said, voice tremulous but joyful. He was speechless at the little creature who might as well be a treasure trove of information about his family history that he'd been so starved for all of his life.
"Kipper that's incredible… You knew my whole family didn't you? What were they like?" He finally asked when he could make himself say words again. He immediately felt self-conscious, thinking it had been a stupid question. She'd just said she raised five of his direct ancestors and that was the first thing he asked? But she just smiled "Every Potter is being the same - silly, and stubborn, and clever, and kind. Potters is having black hair that is being impossible to tame, and they is usually having brown or grey eyes. They is usually needing glasses to be seeing. Potters is always treating their elvesies uncommonly well, they is treating their elvesies like family. His whole life Master Monty is refusing to call Kipper his nanny elf and is only ever calling her his granny elf! Such a naughty boy" she said shaking her head fondly, lost in a lovely memory.
His sister caught his eye, raising a brow in lieu of asking permission aloud, and he nodded, throat a bit too tight to respond just yet. She placed her hand feather-light on the elf's shoulder "Kipper, what did you mean just now when you said the Potters treated you uncommonly well - are not all families nice to their elves? They treat you well here at the school, right?" She asked extremely carefully, tone light and casual as possible, head innocently tilted to maximize effect. Despite her best efforts at coming across easygoing and neutral, every elf in the vicinity gasped and mutters filled the kitchen.
Many of the little bodies rushing around them cleaning had frozen or gone incredibly tense, but the two older elves that they were sitting at the table with stared her down shrewdly before making eye contact with each other and having a very obvious silent conversation. They turned back to her in unison, faces tight and drawn "Kipper is a Hogwarts elf, and the castle is treating all its elvesies very well. But Kipper is also being a Potter Greyback elf now, and if young Mistress is asking her questions she is answering them, whether she is supposed to or not" the elf said with an even stranger inflection than usual. She would have to tread it carefully, but to Hermione this felt like it was absolutely the right track to lead them down. She was a bit excited now.
"Kipper, are there things you're not allowed to talk about?" She asked, her thoughts rushing ahead through the logic of how to best phrase her questions to find out what she wanted to know. The elf nodded jerkily, and clenched her fists at her sides. Before she could get in another question, her brother clamped his hand over her mouth "Kipper if we ask about things you're not supposed to tell us will it hurt you!?" He practically shrieked, drawing everything in the entire room to a grinding halt. They all waited with bated breath as she ground her teeth and croaked out "Not…exactly," and then rolled onto her back on the table, panting heavily.
"What's happening to her?" He demanded of Nilliams, who looked between the boy and the elf as if grief stricken "Three things is being conflicting in her mind at once - Young sir and miss is asking her direct questions about the elf geas and Kipper be trying very hard to work around it to answer them. We elvesies is not ever supposed to be discussing it with humans, but you is not being humans. You is also being her family, her young Master and young Mistress, and a question is being very nearly the same as a command" he said with a nod as if that answered everything.
"What's a geas, why can't you talk about it?" Hermione growled as she shoved Harry's hand away from her mouth and he seriously considered tackling her to the floor. She was going to kill his bloody elf if she kept this up! Nilliams winced, and rubbed his wrinkly head wearily "Kipper is being the only elf who could possibly tell young sir and miss about it, because they is her young Master and young Mistress and can compel her to answer. Nilly is only even being able to mention it in front of them because young sir and miss is not being human. It is not causing pain, but a powerful confusion in the mind. Kipper is wanting to tell young sir and miss, but she is working hard to overcome the strong magic" he said.
Harry couldn't control himself, before his mind could catch up his mouth was shouting out "Kipper stop! It's alright, you don't have to answer if you don't want to, please don't hurt yourself" he begged tears gathering in his eyes, and she relaxed where she lay on the table. His sister nodded emphatically "I'm really sorry!" She added with a terribly guilty look on her face.
She hemmed and hawed for a moment before coming out and laying all their cards on the table "We just wanted to make sure you all were working here of your own free will! We don't really know the first thing about elves, but the goblins are going to be rebelling again soon and we're thinking about having our pack join them. Harry and I have seats on the wizengamot we could claim, and we know we'd be able to help make changes happen. We just wanted to get the lay of the land with you elves so to speak. We've heard elves say they're happy to serve but we noticed you don't use wands, and our goblin friend told us that the law says they're not allowed to use wands at all. Are you really happy serving, or are there laws that make it so you have to work? If you're really happy we don't want to bother you, we just need to know what the truth is!" She said, feeling like she was rambling endlessly, and hoping she hadn't hurt any little feelings or broken any unspoken taboos. She'd never felt so thoughtless and clumsy.
She covered her face with her hands and buried her head in her brother's shoulder and groaned "And now I've probably accidentally broken all of your trust and ostracized you and now you'll never want to talk to us again," she moaned miserably. He chuckled at her, and shrugged his shoulder so her head popped up, and she saw that while all the little elves in the whole kitchen were staring at them, none looked angry or particularly upset. She perked up, and turned back to Nilliams and Kipper, who had sat up and seemed fine despite how hard she had been struggling a moment ago.
She looked at her brother, who nodded softly and smiled sweetly. He always had her back, and he was letting her know she hadn't burned this bridge with her curiosity. She inhaled and felt herself calm and center, and let her teeth and claws come out and her eyes shine brightly. She knelt next to the table so her face was on the same level as the two little old elves, with her palms resting face up on her thighs.
"I'm sorry for letting my curiosity drive me. I came here as the future alpha of my pack to see how you live, to see if your needs are well met, to see how you are treated by those who hold authority over you. My people don't know who they are, and are killed like beasts without consequence. The goblins are forbidden from using wands, and are treated like servants who only live to move coin from hand to hand. I see your people here in this castle, brimming with magic and power, cooking and cleaning and raising human children. Are you safe and happy? Are you fulfilled? Is there more you yet desire?" She asked as if possessed, feeling almost as if she were in a trance. Her magic began to invoke around her in the now familiar spiraling ribbons of shimmering green.
Kipper reached her hand out and pressed her palm down onto the top of Hermione's head, and as she did so spiraling ribbons of sapphire magic came to life around the elf's little body, and the girl looked up at them in delighted wonder. It was just like hers, their magic was the same! She instinctively followed her gut, which was telling her that now was exactly the right moment to let her body transform. As the green sparkles washed over her, the form of her wolf traded places with her human body even more seamlessly than it ever had before. She laid her brown head on the table between the elves, and her tongue lolled out as they both rubbed their tiny fingers over her silky ears.
A teeny tiny elf boy pushed his way through the crowd, his voice high and clear like a bell "Whiffy is working in the kitchens, but- but he is always secretly wanting to help take care of the plants outside with Professor Greenie!" He said in an excited rush, tugging on his ears and spinning in a little circle happily. The elves around him cheered.
A remarkably fat elf, the first they'd seen that wasn't rail-thin like the rest, waddled up to the front "Turkey is being uncomfortable in his bunk and be wishing he had a bigger drawer to sleep in" He said quietly and rather shyly. He received pats on the back and congratulations just like the first elf who spoke up.
Another elf came forward, nearly vibrating with excitement "Thimbles is working in the laundry fixing clothes but she be wishing to be helping take care of the mail owlsies in their tower!" She announced proudly, to yet more cheers and even a few wolf whistles.
Elves all over the kitchen started shouting about jobs they'd rather be doing, professors they'd rather be working for, families they wished they could go back to serving. Hermione's ears pricked up when she heard a few mention things like wanting a day off every few months, or having spending money to buy their own fabric and sewing materials. Things of little consequence in the grand scheme of things, but that would undeniably make them happy.
Nilliams held up his hand and they all instantly quieted "It is being kind of young sir and miss to be asking if we is wanting wands, but elvesies is powerful. We is not needing wands like humans and not wanting them like goblinsies. Hogwarts elvesies is being very lucky to be having such simple desires as different jobs around the castle. Not all elvesies be having such simple wishes. Not all elvesies be with the same family their whole life, or even be knowing who their parents were like Kipper" he said, leaving ample room for the heavy implication that such a statement garnered.
She couldn't keep in the low growl that rumbled its way out of her throat, and some of the elves nearby yelped, but Nilliams just chuckled and tugged on her ear and poked her nose. When he spoke again he raised his voice so all the elves could hear him "Our new friends is being eager to help us, they is being a kind young sir and miss! They must be talking with Kipper, and when she is telling them what the geas truly be holdings then they may be tellings the other wolvesies and goblinsies that the Hogwarts elvesies will be glad to join their rebellion in the small ways that we can!" He announced to gasps and then uproarious cheers from all throughout the kitchens.
Harry didn't want to question their confidentiality right as they were committing to the cause, but he had to ask just in case "Nilly, the Hogwarts elves work for the castle right? Are you obligated to tell the headmaster or other professors that we talked to you if they ask?" He said quietly into the old elf's ear as the other ones continued cheering.
The clever old thing looked at him with a sly grin "Nilliams is having no master but the magic of the founders that be left over and seeped into the stones. The castle is being alive, more than the human witches and wizards is ever knowing. Hogwarts elvesies be obeying the headmaster and professors as a courtesy, not because we is being bound to them. If headmaster Dumbly is asking, even if he is commanding, Nilly and all the kitchen elvesies be saying young sir and miss just came for a nice visit with Kipper" he said meaningfully, and Harry grinned as well.
Their little friends weren't so defenseless after all.