To choose the lesser evil

by DerLaCroix

Sometimes life leaves you no good choice. Sometimes, any option you have is bad. It is then up to you to choose the lesser evil, and make the best of it. Trigger warning - Death Eaters are Death Eaters, violence, sexual violence, sexual content, etc...

3. Chapter 3 - In for a penny

Disclaimer: My house belongs to the bank, my work belongs to my boss and my money is always confiscated by my wife. And Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling... Damn...

To choose the lesser evil

By DerLaCroix

Chapter 3 - In for a penny…

"Next stop, Diagon Alley!" Stan shouted out, and the bus blinked into motion at the same time, hurling them down onto the bed they sat at. Obviously, it was a slow day, and their stop came up first.

"That's it, last chance to change your mind. Yes or no?" Harry asked, after they had once again assumed proper seating positions.

"Now that's how I always imagined my proposal to be like," Marietta snarked at him, rolling her eyes.

"It's not my proposal, it was yours, made to me. Not what I imagined, either. Still - I'm living on borrowed time, but what happens next is your choice. I know you are not quite happy with the choices you are left with, but we're going to do this, I want a definite yes or no from you. I understand if you'd like to have nothing to do with calling the shots in this whole mess of a situation you're stuck in, but neither do I," Harry told her, his voice betraying his anxiousness, even though he tried to present a tough front.

"There's no choice, Potter. This is better than the alternatives. I'm in if you are still willing," she replied, trying to present a stiff upper lip, herself. "Did you think I'd chicken out at the last minute?"

"I didn't think you would, but I was aware that you might. Heck, I still kind of feel the urge to run from this, it just feels wrong, even if it is to help you," Harry replied, truthfully. "You know, with what happened back there, we can't go back home. At least I do not want to, and I think you'd agree," he mused. "I am considering going muggle for a while, at least for the summer - my school vault will easily book us a nice hotel room or something for the rest of the summer, and if we don't do magic, nobody will be none the wiser about where we are hiding."

Marietta mused the option for a bit. "Muggle? You got a point there. There's no way we can just check into a room at the Leaky Cauldron and hope no one notices. And thanks for not going back there - we'd have to kill them for real, because they seem like the kind of people who murder you in their sleep."

"Oh, they are. Pretty sure my protection from the people hunting us will fade over time, now that I can't recharge the wards there anymore, but I think we should be good for at least this summer," Harry broached another subject. "I'll still keep my part of the deal regarding protection, but I think it is only fair to let you know that I most likely lost a good portion of that impenetrable defence thing you are banking on. If you do want to call it quits because of that, I understand, and will try to help you out if you want to leave the country."

"Actually," he interrupted himself, "this is an option we should consider - leaving the country altogether. We might need to pick up a language, first, and check some legal requirements if you want to attend some school , but just running off and travelling across Europe the Muggle way might keep us out of harm's way."

"Just trying to come up with options," he explained when he noticed her staring at him with her mouth agape. "Hiding somewhere is an idea, but keeping on the move and away from the Ministry, and even Britain as a whole would be even better, I think."

Marietta regarded him with curiosity and a tiny bit of appreciation, maybe even awe. "You are quite good at this kind of thing. I'm just surprised that I didn't think of that before. Well, I barely had the funds to even get to your place, so I would not have been able to act on that idea, anyways, but good thinking. I do speak some French - at least well enough for when we were there for a holiday - so we can keep that option in mind. There are still owl traces and stuff, but there are spells to block them. We'll need to look those up somewhere, urgently, if we really want to go muggle, either here or abroad," she agreed.

"DIAGON ALLEY!" Stan shouted from the back of the bus, interrupting their talk.

ooOOoo

Clambering out of the bus, not looking left or right or up, they rushed into and through the deserted Leaky Cauldron before anybody could notice them. No wonder at this time of the day, or better night, as the morning had not yet broken, so no respectable wizard would be around. Only Nob was minding the bar, and raised a tired eye when they dragged the trunk through, but didn't think it was worth getting off his bum or saying anything. They covered some distance into the nearly deserted Diagon Alley before Harry notified Marietta that he needed a quick breather because of his trunk he was dragging after him. Wrestling it to the side and out of the way, he chose to sit down on it.

"What's up with your eye?" Harry asked after a few moments of getting his breath back when he noticed her rubbing at it, again,

"What? Nothing!" She replied hastily, but Harry's low-key whistle stopped her.

"Girl, you really need to stop rubbing at it, it's starting to go all red," Harry explained. "Did Dudley hit you or something? Does it hurt?"

"Dunno, don't think he did. But it burns," Marietta admitted. "Doesn't matter, it'll go away, soon, I think. Let's get going."

Harry was about to agree when he heard a door getting unlocked behind him. Jumping to his feet and turning around, he found himself face to face with a redhead, who had just opened the door to his shop, wrestling a cardboard sign through it. Only then, Harry briefly looked around to realise that they had stopped off right in front of the garishly decorated Weasley's Wizard Wheezes store. He'd wonder for the rest of his life how he was able to not notice that.

"Merlin! What are you doing here, out in the open like nothing's going on! Get in here, quick!" The twin which Harry tentatively identified as Fred blurted out, pretty much flung the sign back in and almost manhandled them through the door, with Harry's trunk making a mad dash in behind them, at a flick of Fred's wand.

Only after peering up and down the Alley, twice, Fred himself came back in, immediately closing the door, and pulling all curtains back down with a flick of his wand.

Then, he turned to stare at Harry, then Marietta, then Harry, then Marietta, and then Harry again, before shrugging his shoulders, shaking his head, and finally sighing, deeply.

"Hello Fred," Harry greeted the red-haired man, a bit nervous about how he would be received.

"Oy! George! Get your bum in here, now!" The boy he had addressed had yelled, with an exuberant smile breaking out on his face that soothed Harry's nerves. The echoes of that cry had not yet subsided when Harry was addressed, directly. "Heeeey, Harrikins! Turn that frown upside down," Fred continued. "No need to worry, Ron told us how it went down, we know they forced you to take them with you. Mum's out of line. But you know her, right?"

"What brings you here? At this time, nonetheless? She's with you?" he rapidly popped questions.

"Gringotts business, kinda urgent," Harry stated, before hesitating enough to pique the interest of Fred. "And... yes," he finally admitted.

"You? Two? Gringotts business?" Fred quipped, waggling his eyebrows at them. They went up high and remained in place when Marietta blushed brightly in response.

"Oh! Did Sirius hook you two up with a betrothal as a prank? Or was there an old one in the Potter files that got triggered?" Fred asked away, adding two and two and coming up with seventeen, which was about the number Marietta's blush had reached on a scale of one to ten.

"Sorry, how rude of me," he apologised. "Welcome to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, Miss Edgecombe," he tried to soothe things over, extending his hand.

While they were shaking hands, the other twin marched around the shelves, parked himself next to his brother, and immediately joined in on the salutations. "Harrykins!" he shouted, before taking a double-take at the other person present. "What's the sneak doin' here?" he blurted, getting whacked over the back of his head by his brother for his comment.

"George!"

"Terribly sorry, don't know what I was thinking," he quickly tried to apologise when he realised that she was accompanying Harry.

"You weren't!" his brother scolded him, while Marietta just lifted both hands, apologetically.

"It's fine, I deserved that," she stated, sadly. "I got you two in trouble, just as well, and I still need to apologise for that."

"No need, and it still wouldn't make what I just said okay. I duly apologise for my tactless outburst," George apologised, dipping into a slight bow. "To my excuse, I have been huffing potion fumes all night, trying to get some last-minute merchandise ready for the store," he added when she graced him with a smile and a dip of her head in return.

"What brings you here, at this ungodly hour?" George repeated his brother's question.

"Gringotts business," Harry replied, once more, getting the same slowly climbing eyebrow reaction out of the second twin.

When he looked over at Marietta, George's growing grin was an indication about the response he would have given, when his brother's heel landing on his toes stopped him from doing so.

"Ow, what did you do that fo... Oh. Get it," he groaned as this mind finally synchronised with his brother's.

"Congratulations? Have you met the parents yet, Harry?" he offered, rubbing his foot against his other calf.

"Oh, spell," he lamented when this sent Marietta over the edge, and she started sobbing.

"Death Eaters. Last night. She's on the run," Harry gave them the outline as he performed an awkward hug on the girl leaning and sobbing into him. George immediately was at Marietta's side and tried to console her.

"Come on, sweetie, let's get you seated and something to drink, ok? You look dead on your feet. Tea? Butterbeer? Something stronger? But then again - did you even have breakfast, yet?" he babbled along, while leading Marietta over to the counter, and out to the back of the shop, and up the stairs, with a sodden Harry following.

At least, he tried, but a firm grip diverted his course. And a no less firm scowl.

"Ok, what's the story, Harrikins. What in Merlin's shaggy beard is going on here?" Fred finally asked the question that 's been hanging.

"She's on the run. Frankly, so am I. My family assaulted us, almost raped her. I'm not staying not a moment longer at that place," Harry admitted, running his hand through his hair as he acknowledged the situation.

"Those dastardly… Well, it doesn't matter anymore, does it? So? You and her? On the run? And being together? How? The Ministry is going to be after you - heck, Dumbledore will be galloping ahead of them on a Hippogriff to get you first. And her? Staying with you? How did you two end up together? She showed up in your room and shagged you rotten?" Fred started ranting in quick succession, stopping when Harry blushed at the last item in question.

"She did?" He blurted out, eyes wide.

"What? No! Of course not! We didn't do anything!" Harry protested, frantically.

"Yeah, right! What you didn't do was to aim properly – I know pinkeye when I see it," Fred retorted. "And now spill! What's going on with her and you? All that business with last year, and now you are running off for Gringotts? With her family killed, and all, like that? I don't like this, Harry, not at all."

"Not my story to tell, please. We don't really have the details ironed out, yet, but she is adamant that we should get to the Goblins and be wed."

"Holy..." Fred gasped. "Really? She proposed that? Strike that - of course she did - you wouldn't have known anything about that. Merlin! I... Actually, it's not the worst idea," Fred stammered as he was processing the facts.

"You think?"

"Well, don't get me wrong - people are going to go batshit when the news gets out. Mom is going to wring your neck, Ginny too, come to think of it," Fred mused. "But for her, it would work - there is no legal way to separate her from you - it's actually illegal to try, weird old laws and stuff."

"You looked this up?"

"A man can dream, can't he?" Fred quipped, and dodged the fist coming his way. "Let's go and look after your bride, before she elopes with George," he chuckled, leaving Harry briefly rooted to the spot, shaking his head.

"So what protections? Arrest? Fines?"

"That, and even worse - the Goblins will seize all you and your family have in Gringotts - gold, objects in store, deeds, whatever they find in vaults, and hand it over to the aggrieved party, and declare the perpetrators persona non... toleranda, I think it is".

"You mean non grata," Harry tried to correct.

"Nope - that one means they toss you out - the toleranda status means they will not suffer you live. Make one step into Gringotts and you will leave only as dragon dung," Fred rejected the attempt. "That's why it is highly illegal to even try - the Ministry will toss you in Aszkaban for a year. Nobody wants to deal with this kind of thing, especially with how interconnected our families are - nobody knows where the Goblins will draw the line of 'family', and the only way to get them to back down would be another war."

"Wow. They really mean business, eh?"

"Goblins, Harry. Never make them angry," Fred advised, as they were reaching the top landing.

Upstairs, they found Marietta wolfing down a large breakfast. Harry immediately noticed his stomach protesting his inaction in this regard.

"Get yourself some, Harry," Fred quipped. "Oh, I forgot, you already did," he chuckled, again dodging a fist chucked his way. Harry chose to save the energy needed to try again, and instead sat down and eagerly made good on the offer.

"They sure worked up an appetite, did they?" George whispered with a grin as he approached his brother.

"You do not know half of it, oh, brother mine, but this has to wait till later, ok?" Fred whispered back. "Could you be a darling and check the Alley and Gringotts, just to be sure they'll get there safely? They really need to get there quickly."

"Consider it done. I'll even give the Gobbos a head's up, so they might be a bit less cranky than when they show up unannounced," George retorted.

"Good thinking. I'll get you the full story later. It'll be worth the effort, trust me. They are going to pull a huge prank on everyone."

As George made his way out, Fred plonked himself down at the table.

After watching them stuff themselves for a few moments, Fred did take a closer look at Marietta and perked up with an idea. He waved his wand, and then, again. Moments later, two bottles came sailing up the stairs and over to them. He handed it to Marietta. "This is for the eye – dab it onto the tear ducts, should help within moments. The other one is a skin lotion - you got quite some bruises on your neck, and it might even do something for the spots - it is potent enough to even help against bubotuber pus. Itches a lot for a minute while it works, so don't scratch it."

When she looked at the bottles warily, he gave a slight huff. "Girl, you've already had enough trouble for a day, a week, or even a year. I'm not going to prank you when you're already down. Honestly. It helps. We use both in the lab, with all the fumes and stuff exploding in your face. Most potioneers swear on those two formulas, they're a miracle in a bottle."

"Thanks," she mumbled around the crumpet in her mouth, and immediately started using the product, as advised.

"You may want to freshen up and get some proper clothes, I recon," Fred continued. "That door's my bedroom, there is a bath en suite in there. Angie has filled it with more stuff than I can identify, so if you need anything, it should be there, I firmly believe. Second, there should be some spare undies from her in the bottom left drawer on the wardrobe, and I think an old uniform she doesn't need anymore behind the right door, way back in the corner. Take what you need, she won't mind. It might fit you, she's a bit taller than you, so her old stuff might be good for you with some alterations."

"You're a lifesaver, I was already wondering if my transfiguration is up to making something worthwhile out of what I had, and I was not looking forward to go to Gringotts in this," Marietta gratefully replied, before getting up and hugging Fred, briefly, around the neck. "You were a nightmare at school, but you are good guys, thanks," she spoke, and then quickly vanished through the door.

"Should I be asking why you have a girl's uniform in your wardrobe that you 'don't need, anymore', Fred?" Harry inquired, breaking the silence, a few minutes after Marietta had vanished into the other room to change. Fred's smile was threatening to split his head apart when he couldn't resist to respond.

"It's from Angelina's fourth year, she had it here as a spare, just in case, but she's grown waaay out of it, it is not even skimpy, anymore. Especially after she modified it for certain... effects...," he explained, abruptly dropping the conversation when Marietta popped her head back in through, barely wrapped in the outer school robes, clutching them tightly in front of her.

"Can I borrow a wand? I need a resizing charm, or I am going to pop all the buttons the moment I dare breathing," she stated, shaking her head as the boys guffawed in return. Harry managed to hand her his wand, and she retreated, huffing about 'boys'.

Harry's fist connected with Fred's shoulder with a resounding thud, and then they both broke out in laughter, again.

Anyway, if you don't mind, Harrykins - now that you got time - brief outline of the story?

"She got in trouble, showed up at my home in the middle of the night, I nearly strangled her when she woke me from a nightmare and I saw someone hovering over my bed. She made her sales pitch to trade sex for protection, we talked, fell asleep, and she decided to... wake me up, properly... to prove her skill, you know, the usual," Harry replied, not just in jest.

Fred looked at the closed door, at Harry, back at the door, and back at Harry, again. "Wake you up? Lucky you!"

"Didn't feel lucky at that time, but I'm coming 'round to see your point, looking back at it," Harry admitted, catching a fist with his shoulder for his words.

"Bad pun, Potter. And yes, lucky - could have been Bulstrode."

"Now you're being just nasty," Harry retorted.

"Nasty? Me? It's not my girl who's running 'round with the pink eye," Fred quipped with a disarming smile.

"Talking about running - you guys know how to prevent an owl from finding you? Or evading the ministry underage detection? You guys got away with it all the time at home."

"The first one is quite easy, it is a kind of confundus charm, I'll show it to you two, later. And the second question is easy - don't be in a Muggleborn home."

"Huh?"

"The Ministry can only detect magic, and where it was used, but not who it did - that's how we did it. In a wizard home, they assume it's the parents. Only in a Muggleborn home, they know it's the kid, for it can't be the parent. Just as well - they only have a certain number of detectors, as far as I know, so there isn't a blanket net over everything. You get out of Diagon Alley and away from a known Muggleborn house, and you should be fine. They don't send Aurors after every spell cast somewhere in London or Britain."

"Figures," Harry mumbled, nodding his understanding. "So we're good here?"

"Of course. Did I try to stop you when you handed her your wand? You didn't even think twice!" Fred quipped.

"Was distracted," Harry mumbled with a healthy blush. "Show me the owl spell," he demanded when Fred started sniggering. "We need that, urgently, so they can't try to track us down."

"Let's wait till she's done. Never keep a spell from a Ravenclaw, Harry. Less work for me to only show it to you guys once. She still got your wand, anyway. Also, we're still waiting for George to scout out the Alley for threats and make an appointment with the Goblins for you. Just leave your trunk here, and fetch it once you're done, right, we can think about where to go from there, ok?"

When Marietta came back out, they were surprised to see her looking quite different. Her face looked quite a bit darker, but the spots were definitely less pronounced, you'd not notice them as letters on a cursory glance. "Blimey - did not think it would work that well, Fred" remarked. Harry was just as surprised, but something looked off about her face, he couldn't put a finger on it, though. It reminded him of someone.

"Didn't. They got less angry, but it still took half of Angie's makeup to cover it up. Please thank her and get her some new stuff from me, " Marietta responded, holding out her last 12 sickles to Fred, who outright rejected it. "No can do, Miss. You're with Harry, and that means your money's no good here."

"Thanks, then, "Marietta responded with a pretty smile, not going to look the gifted abraxan in the mouth. "And thanks for the wand, Harry. Caking on that much makeup by hand would have taken ages," she quipped as she tried to return the wand to its owner, as well.

"Hold on to it a few moments longer," Harry replied. "Fred's going to teach us the owl blocking spell, and I am not going to stand between a Ravenclaw and a new spell."

ooOOoo

A few minutes, a mastered spell, and a brisk walk with lots of whispered advice about Goblin customs later, they passed the armoured doors of Gringotts. "Just be polite, and remember to call them Master, not Mister," Marietta instructed him. "This is the most important thing - things will go much easier when you do so, it's a cultural thing for them."

There was not much time for any more advice, as there was no line at these small hours, the whole place was practically deserted, bar the Goblins present behind the counters.

"What can Gringotts do for you?" The goblin at the counter growled, as if annoyed by their presence. He probably was, but Harry chose to not mind.

"Good morning, Master Goblin, my name is Harry Potter, I have an appointment," Harry started, not getting any further, as he was rudely interrupted.

"Indeed. Master Pikeshaft, our chief executor, is expecting you in his office," the goblin responded, and with a wave of his hand, another goblin, waiting in the back, approached them.

"Thank you," Harry spoke up, while the goblins exchanged a few phrases in their language.

Without any further comment, the goblin led them off towards a set of doors, and into a long hallway with more of those.

Arriving at the intended door, they were led into an office with barely a pause between the knock and "enter" from within. The room was filled with scrolls and ledgers, bottom to ceiling, filling shelves all around the room. The marble floor was immaculate, as if one solid polished slab, and a huge desk dominated the room, sitting right in the middle of it.

Stopping in front of the ornate desk with an immaculately dressed older goblin in a rather fancy looking goblin style suit sitting behind, they watched their guide round the table and whisper into the ear of the goblin who had not yet bothered to look up from the papers he had across the desk.

With a quick move of his head, the goblin's attention sharply focussed on the one informing him about his visitors, a slight frown forming on his lips as he slowly turned to look at the humans in front of his desk.

"Good morning, Mister Potter. Thank you for the prompt reaction, and making sure we were aware of this meeting beforehand. This should make this all much more efficient. And you are, Miss?" he greeted, letting the question linger in the room.

"Edgecombe, Marietta Edgecombe."

"No insult intended, but I am wholly uninformed of the extent of your extracurricular qualifications, Miss Edgecombe. Are you sure you do not want to contact a properly licensed solicitor for counsel, instead, Mister Potter?"

"Counsel? She's not my solicitor," Harry replied, confused about the direction this conversation was going.

"We are here because she has proposed to become my bonded mistress," he explained.

This made the goblins stop and stare at them, and Harry was sure he could hear a coin drop somewhere near them as the silence settled over them. It took a few moments for the older goblin to address them in order to clarify their intent.

"Are you sure, Mr. Potter? A bonding between you and this witch? Is that what you imply?" he inquired, receiving two red-faced nods in return.

"Congratulations, then, Mister Potter," the goblin spoke up, seemingly in stride. "Now, regarding the inheritance procedures, we need to take care about a few formalities regarding the reading of the will."

"My inheritance?" Harry inquired. "I was told the Potter estate was locked down until I am of age?"

He was regarded with a scolding glower. "The Black inheritance. You were contacted about it, just yesterday."

"There must be a misunderstanding, I never re.." Harry started, figuring it out while he spoke.

"Dumbledore," he growled, briefly closing his eyes and frowning deeply, before picking up the conversation, again. "I am assuming you sent an owl?"

"We are not in the habit of sending out dragons for letter delivery, Mister Potter."

"Dumbledore has a habit of intercepting mail he doesn't want me to receive," Harry responded, ignoring the mockery.

"I see," the goblin replied. "Advise him to refrain, if you please. Regarding the notification, it was about scheduling the reading of the will. As the principal, you are an integral part of the proceedings, and either your presence or that of a proxy is essential. Thus we inquired to book an appointment to clarify things prior to the full reading," he explained, then exchanged a brief phrase of guttural sounds with their goblin escort, who bowed and left quickly.

"I see. Could this be done today? Maybe after this bonding is done?"

Sighing, the goblin picked up the papers and briefly looked over one of them, sporting quite ornate lettering and a seal on the bottom.

"There are a few inquiries regarding the inheritance," he muttered, completely ignoring the objection.

Moving on to some kind of a check list, the goblin briefly read through some text. "First of all, there are some items of Goblin origin in the Black vaults that we would ask to be returned to the proper owners," he spoke up, once again disregarding the people in front of him..

"I beg your pardon?" Harry asked, confused. "Can we deal with this later? I was asking regarding that bonding business, we are in quite a hurry regarding that for several reasons."

The goblin looked up from the parchment and his beady eyes bore into Harry's.

"MISTER Potter, my time is limited and valuable, so please do not waste it."

This didn't sit too well with Harry, but he decided to vent his anger in a productive way.

"I beg your pardon, Master..." he had to quickly look at the plaque to remind himself, "Pikeshaft, but these are quite important matters, I believe. I can understand that you are a busy man...err... goblin, but , rather than rushing along, I would prefer to take my time and make an informed decision. Would it be easier for you if we were to book a later meeting today, or maybe with someone else who has the time to answer the questions that I have regarding these matters?"

During his semi-rant, Harry realised that he might have stumbled across the exact issue – this wasn't the goblins job! He was the one to oversee the inheritance, and most likely, this was either a free service or something already paid for, so he was not interested to extend further service, and certainly not for free, if anything he knew about goblins was to be believed.

"Oh, I see. Let me clarify some issue that seems to sit between us, Master Pikeshaft. I am more than willing to pay for your time and effort, for I really would like to get professional input and qualified advice in regard to a couple of questions that might come up, regarding both the inheritance and this bonding. If you are pressed for time, I will not hold you up any longer, but would ask if you could maybe set us up with somebody who has time to cater to our current needs?" he added, hoping to move matters along.

There was a brief silence that lingered just long enough to make Harry think he maybe went too far.

"Well, then, MASTER Potter, in that case, I believe I will be able to make time for you, after all," Pikeshaft finally spoke up, a smile showing on his face that made Harry almost as uncomfortable as the prior frown. Bellowing something in goblin language, he summoned an aide into the room. "Can I offer you some refreshment? Tea, perhaps? Maybe a small snack?" he offered.

Harry was just halfway through a "No, thank you." when a foot impacted on his ankle and Marietta spoke up. "That would be great, thank you very much, Master Pikeshaft."

Growling some more words at the aide, sporting a faint smile, Pikeshaft sent the goblin off to fetch things, before turning back towards the couple in front of him.

"Now, in order to make sure I can advise you in an efficient and cost effective way, it would be beneficial if you were able to give me at least a brief overview about why you are choosing to enter this rather unconventional relationship in such a hurry," the elderly goblin continued, steepling his fingers over his chest as he leaned back in his chair, looking at Harry, expectantly.

"Be aware that my advice will be the more efficient, the closer that information is to the truth," he interrupted as Harry was attempting to respond.

Following the gesture of Harry to go ahead, Marietta laid out her plan, keeping it mostly to the necessary fact, only briefly interrupted by the arrival of their order.

Pikeshaft sat still for a few moments after she had finished, only his fingertips rhythmically tapping against each other as he seemed deep in thought. "Much to your regret, I can find no fault with your reasoning, Miss Edgecombe. Allow me to express my condolences for your loss, as well."

"So her plan would work," Harry spoke, almost surprised that there was no issue to be dealt with.

"Even better than she would have expected, with that change in status, among other things, you would gain full access to your holdings at Gringotts," he replied.

Harry was more than just a little surprised about this. "Really? Why?"

"We usually regard bonded couples as adults, Master Potter," the goblin quipped. "The Ministry, of course, will not share this assessment. But we do not care about their opinion in regard to financial questions."

"So the Ministry would ignore it?" Harry asked. "I was told that it would make it illegal to separate us?"

"They would dispute the adult state, I'd presume. Which means that you would still be considered minors by the wizard world. But separation - definitely illegal. Regarding the legal base, in the treaty that includes the Charter of Gringotts, there is a reciprocal agreement to acknowledge marriages from either side. If the Ministry were to decide not to honour a Goblin marriage we notify them of, it would mean - among other things - that Gringotts would no longer acknowledge Wizard marriages in our proceedings, especially inheritances. The results would be… unpleasant," Pikeshaft responded, his voice fading out at the end, with a far-away gaze as he was briefly indulging in things that could be.

"Additionally, on our side, any harm to a bonded female, or removal from her bondmate, results, among other things, in the forfeiture of the clan holdings to the offended clan. That would include the vaults held within Gringotts, and all their content, coin, item, or deed."

"Offended clan?" Marietta inquired, barely ahead of Harry, who had perked up, as well. "We aren't members of any clan, aren't we?"

"My apologies. I might not have mentioned it, but bonding to a female means that Master Potter would be considered an elder of his clan. Not being a member to any existing clans, it would make him the leader of a new clan, by default, with almost all rights and duties. Of course, some restrictions apply - since the Wizengamot does not accept Goblin members, there are mutually no Human members sitting in the council of Elders."

"I believe you did mention this, but I failed to realise this part would also apply to a human," Marietta responded, hastily.

"While humans usually ignore this part, there are several human clans registered. Some are not even the result of a bonding, but out of political reasons. The ministry, for example, is considered a clan, in order to hold the organisation itself responsible for any action of any member towards Gringotts while acting in their designated role. Similarly, we do keep a registry of people, marked and unmarked, who are considered to be part of the clan Death Eater."

"That would explain why there was never any attack on Gringotts during the last war," Marietta mused.

"Yes, it worked as intended," Pikeshaft agreed.

Harry was not yet quite there, yet. "Couldn't they simply keep their money elsewhere?"

"That would have been a solution, but large amounts of coin and valuables being stored in their homes would incentivise more frequent Ministry raids against supposed holdouts, and risk the loss of said funds," Marietta explained.

"Indeed, Miss Edgecombe. Unless they were well on the way to win the conflict they would not risk such measures. And by the time they would reach that state, Gringotts would already have prepared for war," Pikeshaft agreed.

"Ooo-kaaay. Circling back to my inheritance - could you please tell me something about these holdings you mentioned? I know about my school vault and that there is a family vault somewhere, but nothing more than that."

"Your legal guardian failed to inform you about the size of your estate? Who would have thought Mister Dumbledore would forget to mention such an important thing," Pikeshaft mused, rolling his eyes as he started flipping through a ledger.

"Indeed, who would have expected that from our esteemed Headmaster," Harry agreed, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Marietta was also shaking her head.

"This is the current balance of the Potter vault," Pikeshaft explained as he placed an open ledger in front of Harry, who did a double take when he realised the amount of numbers that formed the bottom line. "Your family did not hold any real estate apart from the remains of the Godric's Hollow cottage, which was declared a memorial by the Supreme Mugwump - restitution claim still pending until the conflict of interest is resolved - nor do they hold any significant stock. The family made a very good profit on the sale of the rights and production company of Sleakeazy hair products, which is invested well and generating a reasonable income. Which has in turn accumulated quite a nest-egg over the last 15 years of untouched growth. Not enough to live in luxury, but enough to be able to choose your profession without the immediate need to support yourself," he concluded.

"That's a relief - I was afraid we would have needed to rely on only my school vault for our accommodation, seeing that there are some additional savings means we will be much better off," Harry mentioned to Marietta. "Especially in the Muggle world, these funds will go far to make sure we have a home and can stay away from certain sorts of people."

"Well, about that bonding. I've been told," Harry started, before realising that he was trying to explain things to the expert in the room. "Actually," he interrupted himself, setting his cup down, "I know next to nothing about what is going to happen. I am aware of some base outlines, provided by Marietta - and I am sure she has given me as much of the truth as she is able to, or perceives to be factual, but, if I may be so frank, I am getting aware that so far in my life, I have always only been fed the bare minimum of information that is catered to lead me to exactly the conclusions people like me to arrive at. So far I have been told that this bond is one of slavery, vile and barbaric, but then again, our whole History of Magic curriculum is pretty much nothing but one Goblin war after another, so I am not quite sure what part of these tales is the actual truth, a misunderstanding, or outright propaganda. So I would like to ask you to explain to me the concept of this bonding, from a Goblin perspective. Purpose, history, properties, facts."

Again, there was a very grave, prolonged silence. Harry was acutely aware that Marietta's cup had stopped mid-way to her lips, and was faintly vibrating as she had frozen in fright of the response to this request.

And then Pikeshaft started to chuckle. A guttural, rumbling sound, that barely registered as jovial, but it was a chuckle, nonetheless.

"You are refreshing, Master Potter. Brazen, direct, yet not without wisdom in your directness. Maybe there is still hope for wizardkind, at least the Muggleborn side of your people. In order to answer this, I need to ask you a question first. What do you know about Goblin reproduction?"

"Next to nothing," Harry answered frankly. "I do believe you have males and females, and that it probably works like any other mammal species on the planet, but that is mostly conjecture on my part." He continued, before pausing. "Actually, are you mammals? Or am I even wrong about that?"

"We are, Master Potter, we are," Pikeshaft chuckled. "And you Miss Edgecombe?"

"Pretty much the same," she responded quickly. Hastily, even.

"I feel the need to reiterate my prior request to answer truthfully, Miss Edgecombe. Be assured that nothing you say will cause any ill will from me, you are only reiterating the things you have been taught and led to believe by your elders," Pikeshaft responded, his voice utterly calm and devoid of any threat.

"I mean, there are stories that in ye olde days, you used to attack people, wizard or muggle, to murder and rape. They'd steal livestock and take even the corpses for food and would abduct women and girls alive," Marietta responded, timidly.

"Correct. We did, indeed," Pikeshaft stated, calmly, taking a deep breath, akin to a sigh. "That was before the times your people call the middle ages, long before the Wizengamot, the ICW, or even the statute or anything. A time humans and magicals lived among each other, dragons and other creatures roamed the world. Even before Gringotts was founded."

"My people were different. Just like your people, we were more tribal, more feral, more vicious," he mused. "I'll come back to this later. But first, tell me what your people say about our bonding, or what your people call a 'bonded Mistress'," he prompted, a slight frown baring his teeth partially as he spoke the last two words. "Frank and with no regards to politeness, if you please."

"It is a ritual where the woman receives a magical branding, which causes her to be completely subjugated to the male bondmate. She is his property, bound to his will, unable to disobey his command and forced to cater to his every whim."

She was surprised to see Pikeshaft chuckle at her words, shaking his head. "A perfect recollection of the facts, yet a complete misinterpretation of everything it is and stands for," he uttered. "How... human..." he concluded with a deep sigh. "How to begin. Let me ask you one thing - have you ever seen a female goblin?"

When both of the teenagers started to exchange glances, he picked up, not waiting for a response. "Of course you haven't. Barely any of your kind have ever visited our cities far beneath the surface, and even less were ever invited into the home of an elder. You see, our biology is quite a bit different to yours. Goblins do have an extremely high drive to procreate, and our biology is highly adapted to it. Other than in humans, our females are almost always ovulating and could be constantly pregnant, even multiple pregnancies at the same time, spaced a day or two apart. Most importantly, they are not really picky about advances. Especially the first years after maturity, their drive to procreate with any available male is almost pathological. If left to their devices, they would just have lines leading to their bedchamber, barely having breaks to eat and to give birth between switching partners. In the past, many females have perished, simply by thirst or starvation, or wear on their bodies, if not properly supervised. To add to that, our gestation period is quite short, less than a week. The new-born goblin is about the size of a new-born kitten, and the infant can be weaned off after about a day or two or so, when the rapid growth demands a protein rich diet, which consists mostly of a very tasty grub that feeds on decaying matter. Which is also how we deal with waste inside our caverns," Pikeshaft started his tale. Harry couldn't help to think that Hermione must be dealing with an annoying itch in her ears right now, missing out on this lecture.

"Now, the male goblins on the other hand, do have a cyclic period of, let's call it a rutting cycle. This is a varying time period between 3 and 5 weeks, and lasts for a week or so. At least for younger goblins, once they become sexually mature. During this time, their need is as high as that of the female, and they will do anything in their power to satisfy this need, if left to their own devices. In between those periods, they are absolutely not interested in procreation, at all, they actually shy away from females, trying to avoid being even in closer proximity. Which is quite practical, as it means that while our people procreated rapidly, there is going to be a constant change of sexual partners, making sure that there is enough variety in our parentage, while most of our population is not distracted from their duties. At the same time, most of our infants are born male. This changes as the female gets older, and while a young goblina would only carry one female in a thousand births, at a higher age this rate shrinks towards one in a hundred. Biologically, this is because instead of ovulating every other hour as in a young goblina, some of their eggs ripens for a full day or more before being released, which seems to increase the chance of conceiving a female."

Taking a sip of whatever steaming beverage his mug contained, he stalled a bit for time, collecting his thoughts.

"You will of course recognize that this kind of demographic leads to all kinds of issues. One female, hundreds of males, going into a frenzy of aggression and lust every month or so. All kinds of bad things would happen - the young males would go on raids, trying to improve their status to impress females and be able to buy their attention when the time comes, or even go out and rape some humans, when their drive became too high and no relief in sight. Powerful small tribes of younglings would capture females and hold them captive as their slaves, excluding others from their newfounded clan, before quickly descending into inbreeding as their young would grow up and also compete for their own mothers attention, since there is most likely no other female around. Bad things, really, really bad things happened back then, " he said with a deep, profound sigh of regret.

"Thankfully, this rut dampens as a goblin ages, the intervals get longer, and our elders are able to keep themselves under control during that time. We realised long ago that in order to keep our population stable, we need to control our reproductions. So we created our society, and thus, Gringotts. This was first not a bank, but a kingdom, of sorts. A council of elders, with one leader, overseeing everything, and on his death, the council elects a different of our ranks to serve till his death. Each elder had formed his own clan, and to make sure our caves would not overflow and turn into dens of chaos, we needed to control our growth, and curb inbreeding. Thus, our finest heads sat together, and created the marriage bond," he told the teens riveted to his every word.

"This bond accomplished many things. Most of all, it bound the drive of a female to her mate's. Which meant that her desire was dampened to the point of allowing her rational self-control, and she only experienced her own uncontrolled urges in times that her mate would experience his. Which for older goblins, can happen as rarely as once a year, or even less. The idea was that the elders were wise enough to resist unlimited procreation themselves, but would act as a steward. They would allow accomplished males of their clan access to their bondmate as reward for services rendered to the clan, and in order to create the necessary offspring to keep the clan numerous, but healthy. These offspring are, in turn, raised communal, so while we - necessarily, as you can understand - know our matrilineal line, it is rare for a young goblin to know for sure who his father is. This keeps allegiance to the clan and eliminates the threat of an inherited wealth elite lording influence and females over others. Each goblin rises to his position by merit, alone. Now, in order to control their urges, the young are brought up in strict discipline, as warriors, with a strict honour code. This allows them to accept and control their urges, though these younger goblins are usually isolated in so-called rutting camps during their first few years, so they can be supervised and assisted during these hard times. Females are raised in their mother's home, and once matured, would be mated to another accomplished goblin of a different clan, elevating him to the rank of an elder in his clan. They would sit in the clan council, and elect the clan elder to represent them at the Gringotts council of elders. Of course, something as important as this plays a significant part in determining alliances between clans, you'd recon. Politically, as well as financially."

"Now, being bonded doesn't mean that a young female wouldn't still accept any advance that was brought forward in an even slightly reasonable manner. Especially younger Goblinas would be highly likely to still mate with any male they could get their claws on. Their drive is simply too potent for this, and will be for years. The only way to keep them from constantly sneaking off to fulfil their urges was to also bind them to the will of their master, so they could not disobey his orders. This was not done lightly, as we Goblins despise mind control deeply. But it was a necessary step. Then again, as a female ages, she will grow accustomed to this part of the bond. Given time, the hold of the bond will weaken and allow her to act somewhat against the will of her bondmate. But by then, she will be wise enough to control her urges and act responsibly."

"I assume you can now see how this bond is what you perceive it to be, but at the same time, something completely different. For us, it frees the females from an insatiable and self-destructive urge, and her mate is not seeking to procreate, himself, but to select mates for her for the good of the clan. This allows the clan to exist, and her to fulfil her urges and duties to her kin, while being able to live a relatively normal life instead of a constant state of rut and childbirth. Wizards, on the other hand, use it to enslave a woman to their desires, in order to force on a victim of the same urges the bond was developed to control."

"It makes sense," Harry agreed.

Marietta was in full agreement. "Indeed. This weird, almost reversed dynamic changes a lot about what this is about. But I wonder why it would render a woman barren? Is that really a thing or something that is added for the human version of this?"

"There is no human version, the bond is the bond," Pikeshaft replied. "I forgot to mention that in order to increase the chances of female birth earlier in their life, the enchantments also slow down the ovulation cycle by a significant margin. Twice or three times that long. Which is mere hours or maybe a day for us, but a human's longer cycle is being slowed down so much that the developing egg simply withers and dies long before ovulation can occur."

"I see," Marietta acknowledged. "How will this ritual be performed?" she asked, fearing the worst.

Pikeshaft was eager to placate her fear. "It is very simple, Miss Edgecombe - after the bondsmith witnesses the bride price being paid, you and your designated mate will embrace each other while a sigil, enchanted by the bondsmith, will be put on your body. Master Potter will hold it in place, and the bondsmith will activate the sigil's enchantment, which will transfer the enchantment and form the bond, leaving a mark on your body. There is some ritual around it, but it is plain and simple, our people are not fond of pomp and grandstanding. It is customary for the female to be carried by the male, and cling to him, representing that he will take care of her, and that he will be her rock to hold on to."

Seeing Harry surreptitiously casting a calculating glance at Marietta, Pikeshaft felt the need to add that this was only a custom, and no necessity, only the embrace was.

"And to soothe your concerns, Miss Edgecombe, while your back will need to be bare, there is no mandatory nudity, unless you insist."

Getting the expected bright blushes and head shakes, Pikeshaft leaned back, and folded his hands together, signalling he was done.

"What will this mark look like," Harry inquired after brief reflection, "and where will it be placed?"

"It will simply look like black ink, a text about this size, in goblin runes, on the small of her back," Pikeshaft replied, marking an area of about a half page of text between his fingers.

Both Harry and especially Marietta frowned heavily in response.

"That's awfully visible, especially if we visit a beach or something. Can it be less blatant? Maybe somewhere else, and not as blocky?" Harry inquired, much to the relief of Marietta.

"Maybe written in smaller letters, perhaps?" she asked, timidly.

"The size and form of the text is only a question of money, as the sigil has to be made for you specifically, anyway," Pikeshaft allowed. "The position is non-negotiable, though. It needs to sit over that specific spot of the spine, right above the hip. What do you have in mind? Sometimes, the shape of a clan emblem is chosen, but the Potter family does not have a specific coat of arms, as far as I am aware of."

"Bear with me for a second," Harry demanded, having a sudden epiphany. "Are you, any of you both, familiar with muggle tattoos? Contemporary female ones?"

It was quite obvious that neither was, so Harry had to explain his idea a bit more than he hoped he needed to. "You see, there has been kind of a trend lately, for young women to gain such a tattoo, exactly at that spot you mentioned. It's usually some kind of flower or butterfly in the centre, with some flowing lines or floral ornaments filling out the sides, tapering out toward the hips," he explained, mimicking the shape of the ones he remembered from the occasional page four he had spotted with his fingers.

"Couldn't you hide the text in such a decorative setting? After all, you said it would be black, like a tattoo would be," he queried, insecurely. "It's better than a slab of text, isn't it?" he argued when Marietta's disapproving glance found him.

"I guess," she allowed. "Muggle women really do that? Mark their bodies like that? And why there?" she ranted, scandalised.

"Dunno, it is a new thing, started in the last years, but I hear even prominent singers are getting that done these days. I think it's because it's cheeky to have it peeking out between the pants and shirt if they move a certain way," Harry allowed. "And because it's a bit rebellious, and scandalous, if you listen to people like my uncle. So it's most likely done to shock these types, too."

"Well, it would most likely be possible, Master Potter," Pikeshaft interrupted before that particular topic became more of a nuisance. "Our craftsmen are the finest in this country and are easily capable of doing such a thing. The question is just one of time and money. Coming up with a suitable design alone would take some time, for sure, since we never made something like that."

"There must be at least one tattoo shop within a few minutes of the Cauldron's exit, I'm sure. They'd have examples to look at, and maybe buy a print of, I'm sure," Harry mused, before slapping his forehead when it hit him. "Print! There must be magazines about tattoos – there are magazines about everything- we just need a news stand and buy one, there would be dozens of pictures to look at for examples," he exclaimed, excited. "Since you'll be wearing it, you should at least be able to pick one that you like," he told Marietta, who drew a face, but then had to nod in agreement. It was better than just to have a book page printed on your back, if you'd have to choose between these two options. Maybe these 'ta-doos' might look good, she tried to tell herself, attempting to keep a positive outlook.

"Good, that would certainly remove one barrier, and speed the process up," Pikeshaft agreed. "The issue of price should be no matter once we have handled the Black will."

The gentle nudge was not lost to Harry. "So we should deal with that, first, you mean?"

"It would be beneficial to deal with the paperwork first, so everything is processed by the time the bonding can take place. The making will take a few hours, at least, and the enchanting of the sigil is usually also taking an hour."

"Could that enchantment perhaps be slightly adapted for a human recipient? Less mind control, perhaps?" Harry inquired, fearing for the worst when Pikeshaft abruptly sat up straight, glowering with menace for a moment, before closing his eyes and talking a calming breath.

"I will prescribe this comment to your lack of understanding what the bond means to our society, Master Potter," he spoke, slowly, visibly trying to keep his temper in check. "This bond is the singular most holy rite my people know. Finding a bondsmith willing to change the enchantment used on a bond sigil would be akin to finding a human priest willing to conduct a marriage by publicly defecating on his holy texts, and then deflorating the bride on top of it while simultaneously getting sodomised by the groom."

"Yes, the idea is just as grotesque and revolting to us as the scenario I just prescribed is to you," he continued as he saw the appropriate reaction on the faces of his guests.

"There was one, and only one instance when a bondsmith changed the formula - to bond the elven prisoners of war to their human masters, in exchange for coin. He was skinned, pickled in a barrel with his head sticking out, and entombed alive, with all the cursed gold that he acquired for this foul deed to stare at. His tanned hide is on display in the temple to this day."

Slowly, Harry climbed to his feet. "I am sorry and want to express my sincere apologies, Master Pikeshaft. I never intended to insult you this badly. I honestly did not realise the importance of this ritual to your people. I will see myself out if this is your wish."

When Marietta stood and started to repeat this apology, Pikeshaft waved her off. "First of all, you didn't say a thing, so there is no apology needed from you, Miss Edgecombe. Second, I accept your apology as one of simply not knowing, Master Potter. I have no doubt that you would not have spoken that way if you were aware of the gravitas of the matter. Just out of curiosity, what exact changes did you wish to ask for?"

"Well, this whole mindless 'slave to all I say' thing is not something that I find pleasure in – I'd rather have her retain as much of her free will as possible,"Harry explained. He never noticed the dumb-struck expression of Marietta next to him. Of all things, this was the last she would have expected him to ask for.

The grizzled old goblin mustered Harry with some undecipherable expression, before responding.

"You will certainly understand, Master Potter, that this is a very complex piece of magic. An enchantment that is deeply rooted in our culture, that certainly will not be adapted in any way, if it even were possible, and anchored in a highly complex runic array magically inscribed into the very body of the female."

Harry nodded in strained acceptance. He hadn't been expecting anything, but he had to try. His disappointment was mirrored by his companion, but both were in for a surprise when the goblin spoke up, again.

"You see, that there are two components interacting with each other, and while the enchanting part of the bond is always done to the highest standards, or not at all, there have been instances where parts of the runic branding had been slightly damaged, or poorly made by a new tribe. Now, this has resulted in, let's call it... variations... in strength of the various parts of the whole," Pikeshaft continued spinning his tale, in a way that made Harry sit up and listen attentively.

"Now, I have to warn you that there is a possibility - due to the great haste and unique new form this bespoke brand has to be made with - that some... sloppy workmanship... might cause certain aspects of the runic components... to be at less than optimal strength, while still fulfilling the necessary bonds prescribed by our law," Pikeshaft continued, a sly grin on his lips, pointy teeth slightly exposed. "Worst case, this would most likely result in a bond akin to a more experienced female that has learned to resist the casual commands that could be carried by undercurrents and colloquials of speech, and would only be truly bound by a very explicit direct command, like if you were using her name in the context."

"Of course, such haste and carelessness would be unthinkable, may I say unbearable, for the artist to accept such a commission. But dire need and a mound of shiny coin might help convince them of the necessity to compromise quality for speed."

"I see," Harry responded, carefully weighing his words. "And just how big would this heap of gold need to be, to convince them of this necessity?"

Pikeshaft responded by writing something on a piece of parchment, and slid it over. Marietta gasped as she saw the amount, and Harry was very close to doing the same.

"Could I cover this from the funds in my inheritance?" he asked, not noticing how Marietta's head was snapping around to stare at him in shock for even considering this.

"Potter? No. Black? Yes. But for this, you would need to be able to access the funds, which you could only do after you were considered married under our law," Pikeshaft explained.

"If I could make a proposition, though – there is a particular line item in the Black inventory that is considered Goblin property, and we must insist on this being returned to the proper owners. Doing so would certainly incentivize the artisans - who coincidentally are the proper owners - to drop this price significantly."

At these words, Pikeshaft used his plume to strike out the last two zeros from the amount. "And I would be willing to front that expense until after the ritual is completed, for a small fee," Pikeshaft laid out his plan, a sly grin on his face that was reminiscent of a dragon examining his lunch.

"I see," Harry replied, a smirk on his face. "What particular item are we talking about?"

Pikeshaft produced a ledger from the Black document pile, opened it and turned it around for Harry to see, his clawed finger tapping against an entry. "Just some old, out of fashion dining set, collecting dust in a cupboard," he commented. Marietta had to fight a lump in her throat when she spied over Harry's shoulder and read the description.

"Does any of this have any magical properties?" Harry asked, casually, mostly out of interest.

"Nothing applicable to anything but displaying their fine craftsmanship."

"Would this refunding diminish the inheritance noticeably?

"That would depend on the buyer, but not significant in respect to the Black holdings, as it is only a line item, the value not assessed, yet."

"Let's put a conservative estimate on the resale - how much would an average wizard care about the resulting monetary amount?" Harry quipped, finding that he was starting to enjoy this banter.

"There have been wars fought over less," the goblin responded after a short deliberation.

"Harry..." Marietta croaked, trying to speak up, but Harry signalled her to not interrupt.

"And these modifications would certainly cause the desired effect? And no others, potentially harmful ones?"

Pikeshaft faltered for a moment before responding. "I am not an expert in these matters, but all parts being the same, a weakening of one part of the whole would cause the other parts to become more potent, in turn."

"Your choice Marietta," Harry quipped. "Yes or no."

Marietta's head was spinning. "Harry, this is a fortune!" she protested.

"I did not ask you for permission about how to use my money, but rather if you wish to have this adjustment done," Harry sternly rebuked her, his voice almost a growl. "Yes or no!"

Marietta had to swallow another, quite sizable lump in her throat, but timidly made her agreement known by a nod.

"Good. Consider it done, Master Pikeshaft," Harry returned to the negotiation.

"You are aware that this agreement is final and irreversible, Master Potter?" Pikeshaft asked, his eyes firmly locked on Harry's.

Harry's eyes locked with his, just as firm.

"As is my word, Master Pikeshaft."

Pikeshaft considered the boy in front of him thoroughly, and then gave a nod of approval. "Then it is done. Please haste and procure the pattern you want to use and return promptly. I will arrange the necessary," he spoke, rising from his seat and extending his hand to be shaken.

Harry rose immediately and reached for the clawed appendage without further thought.

Slightly hesitating, just enough to be noticed, Pikeshaft cleared his throat and spoke up as they shook. "To be frank, I have been enjoying this conversation very much, Master Potter. Allow me to charge you only half my rate for it."

Harry was briefly elated, but then cottoned on that this ran against all he knew - little as it was - about goblin culture. Given the slight pause and the slightly different tone the Goblin had spoken in, Harry grew wary that this might just be some kind of test of character. "With all due respect, I am not sure about that, Master Pikeshaft. This might have been the most important information and help I have been given my whole life. It would feel as if I cheapen it by receiving it at a discount, if you understand," he declined, tactfully.

The bellowing laughter took him by surprise. "By the Gods, we'll make a proper Goblin out of you, yet, Master Potter. But I agree. Let me forfeit the fee for the inheritance formalities, instead! But let's not linger and waste our time, we both have urgent business to attend to."

ooOOoo

"I can't believe you did that," Marietta spoke as they were leaving Gringotts, hurrying towards the Leaky Cauldron.

"Did what?"

"You just spent a serious fortune to make me LESS a slave. Why would you do that? You could have me do anything!" Marietta complained hotly, pretty much for the argument's sake, as she simply had to vent her pent up energy, somehow.

To Harry, her argument did not make much sense. "Didn't you propose that you would do all of this 'anything' to me, anyway? Why would I need to force you to do these things when you would do it voluntarily? You see - I just really do not buy into this 'mindless sextoy' fantasy. To be honest, the whole concept makes me feel kind of itchy inside. You've seen what my relatives are like - do you really think I would like to be anything resembling them, even remotely? Revolting."

"But for that kind of money! To have less control over me?" Marietta continued.

"Yes. MY money. Spent to at least retain somewhat of a semblance of self-worth I have so I might still be able to look myself in the eye in a mirror. Why is it that you keep harping about the money?"

"I mean, I didn't know - I knew the Potters weren't exactly penniless, but Black! THE Black fortune? How did you get in line for that? Everyone knows that the Malfoys are in line for that, just waiting for the last Blacks to die. Half their spending is credit taken on promises of this inheritance!" she explained as Harry held the door to the dingy pub open for her.

Harry chuckled to himself as they quickly rushed through, trying not to be seen. "In that case, I really would like to be a fly on the wall when they get the invitation to that reading," he commented as they exited into the Muggle world.

Harry had to quickly side-step Marietta, since the girl had stopped as if rooted to the ground when she saw Muggle London for the first time, proper. It was still quite early, so the lights were still on, and there were some cars making their way to their various destinations, with people hurrying along.

"Merlin!" she gasped - this road! It is... Is that the centre of Muggle London?" she stammered, looking into every direction, taking it all in. "Morgana! It does not end! Just how big is this city?!"

"Huh? No, this is not the centre - not by far. This is just one of the many small shopping roads, the city is riddled with them," Harry replied, absentmindedly, as he was trying to figure out which direction to go. "There are much bigger ones. And the city is huge. Enormous. Like, London is about 30, maybe 35 miles in diameter, if I remember correctly from school."

"30 MILES?" she cried out, quickly quieting down when people gave her a disapproving glance and a slightly wider berth, but kept hurrying along. "And there are bigger streets than this one? Just how many Muggles are living here?" she demanded, in a much quieter voice.

"Ah, over there, come on!" Harry quipped as he had located a storefront that seemed promising in the distance, starting to make his way there. "Dunno exactly," he spoke as they started moving. "They told us six million and some when I was in primary school, so, probably 7 million by now?"

"Oh my... seven? There are seven million Muggles in Britain?" Marietta stammered, trying to make sense as she was bedazzled by the display of goods as they passed an electronics shop, a jeweller, and then a clothes store. "And look at all these things! These clothes look amazing! I have never seen anything like this!"

"Those are just small boutiques. There are bigger shopping centres somewhere over there, I think. Those have even more stuff," Harry chatted as he held her back, checking for traffic. "We need to cross here, now, quick, follow me," he told her as he took her hand and pulled her after him as he dashed across the road.

Only now she had realised that the metal objects lining the road were horseless coaches, because there were lots, mostly having just a single occupant, and of various sizes, shapes, and colours, forming a stream of vehicles on the road, in both directions. She had seen them flashing by when she had used the Knights Bus, hours earlier, but only now she realised how many there were of them. Harry was pulling her across the street through a large gap in said stream that had presented itself. "Are these those 'Kahs' that are mentioned in the books?" She inquired as they dashed across.

"Yes, those are cars. They are pretty much like broomsticks to us - personal owned transportation devices. They seat up to five, and can drive faster than your average broom, you're just not allowed to drive that fast inside the city," he clarified once they were safely on the other side. "Oh, and it's about 7 million people just in London alone, I think there are currently almost 60 million people living in Britain, give or take," he absentmindedly responded to her earlier question, drawing on his old school knowledge, as he took a look to confirm his guess about their destination.

At this point, he had to stop, as Marietta simply ceased all movement at his information, and he lost grip of her hand..

"Are you kidding me? There are less than 5000 Wizards in the whole country, and you are telling me there are 60 million Muggles running around and we don't know anything about it? For crying out loud - the world cup drew wizards from all over the world, and that stadium was the biggest crowd I ever seen, and that was just about a hundred thousand!" She ranted on, stopping as she saw his amused smirk. "What?"

"There are like 20 stadiums of about that size in London, alone. For local football clubs," Harry told her with a wide grin. "Seriously, why are you that surprised? Didn't you tell me you went to France on holiday?"

"Yes, but that was a small wizard town at the coast! Barely a hundred or two people there, and that included the guests! This is insane! I never knew! I took a look at Muggle studies, and they said there were a lot of them - but this? Nothing in those books told me about this!" She kept ranting. "Just how many Muggles are there? Do you all live like this?"

"A couple billion? Five or six? Something like that? And yes, we pretty much all live much like this, at least in major cities all around the world, I think. Like half the people live in smaller cities or towns, with houses like my uncle's. Depends a bit on the country and continent, but yeah, this is pretty normal for us. We really need to get going though, we are on the clock, you know," he urged, finally getting her to move again.

"Watch out - there is the Knight Bus!" Marietta called out almost the very moment they had started, pulling Harry into a recessed entrance. She was a bit confused when the bus in question stopped at a small hut made out of glass next to the road, where a couple of muggles were waiting for something.

Harry, meanwhile, was frantically looking everywhere, ignoring the bus right in front of them. "What? Where?" he asked, to her surprise. That feeling increased when she saw muggles disembark and then watched the waiting Muggles board the vehicle, which slowly started off, again.

"Oh, this one," Harry remarked, realising what she had meant. "No, that's one of ours, a Muggle bus. There are a ton of them operating all kinds of routes in London," Harry explained, chuckling at the silliness of the situation.

"You copied the Knight Bus? How?" Marietta asked, bewildered.

"Harry involuntarily cringed when she babbled all these things. "This is how Hermione must feel all the time," he thought. "Okay, I think I need to clarify a few points - these buses - we had them first, your Knight Bus is one that you either copied from us or took and modified it. Just think about it - how would we have thousands of it and you just one. How would Wizards even get to make such a thing if you had nothing even remotely similar?"

"We have the Hogwarts Express," Marietta started, only to pause and mull it over. "Let me guess, you guys also have trains, and we also just stole that one, too?"

When Harry nodded and mentioned hundreds or thousands of those operating all across Britain alone, she only nodded to show her assent. "Well, I guess it makes sense, in a way. What about cars? I don't think we have these as well, do we?"

"I know that Mister Weasley had one that he modified. He enchanted it to fly, and to be invisible if needed, but it was lost in the Forbidden Forest, three years ago or so," Harry provided. "I do not know if there are more of those, maybe the Ministry has some."

"How do they move? I see no horses."

"We don't use horses anymore - some people ride them recreationally, as a hobby, or for races, but I'm pretty sure horses have not been used for transportation since, dunno, 50, 60 years? Cars, buses, trains, and stuff use petrol engines - they burn petrol, that makes an axle spin, and then that spin is transferred to the wheels by some gears and stuff."

"That's quite a lot to take in, Harry. I knew that Muggleborns in Ravenclaw did quite a bit of ranting about the Muggle Studies Books and how outdated they were, but I never really listened to that stuff, since I had no idea about all this. Wait - that red hut over there says telephone - they used that term a lot in class, as well. It was some kind of communication device, I think?"

"Yes, it is," Harry replied, leading her over and opening the door to the box. "The box is just to let you talk in private, the phone is this thing on the wall here - you take the handle, hold it to your ear and then dial the number of the target you want to speak to. Each phone has their own number, so you can talk to everyone all over the world with one of these. See it as a miniature Floo call machine. Pretty much every home or business has one, and these boxes are public ones to call people while you are out and about. They are even making handheld, wireless ones these days that you can carry in your pocket."

"Wireless, like the wireless we have?"

"Kind of - your wireless is a copy of our radios, which do only receive sound. These mobile phones receive and send."

"Wait, we copied that too? No way!"

"You did. Remember that window front back there? Those moving pictures you were looking at? Those were televisions - our newer version of wireless which not only transmit sound, but also pictures. So you can watch entire plays on them - we call those movies - short for moving pictures. Since they have been around for like 50 years or so, I guess a magical version will be soon 'invented' by some enterprising wizard," Harry replied, not able to repress the urge to make a snide comment.

"Pretty safe to assume that everything you have was invented by muggles, and then you took it and added some magic to it to improve on it, somewhat. And then promptly left it like this for the next 100 years while we improved our stuff even more," Harry added. "But enough of this. Come, we need to hurry, they are expecting us back. I'll show you around some more, later, ok?"

With Marietta in agreement of their priorities, at least in principle, they ended up quickly dashing into the store, with Harry practically dragging her after him, past the shelves of food and other stuff she never had seen before. He only had to briefly rummage in the magazine section to find a tattoo periodical that contained pictures of the tattoos in question. With practically nobody in the store, yet, they didn't even have to wait before meeting the barely caffeinated clerk, who just gave them a quizzical glance, but wordlessly accepted the money without giving them any hassle. Moments later, they were out of the shop and tucked away in a corner of a garage entrance, perusing the magazine.

Browsing through it, Marietta spoke up. "I do get why these are popular. Some of these designs are quite pretty. Not these with the jagged lines, they are too masculine, I think. If I really had to choose one, this butterfly with the floral vines and leaves and smaller butterflies is quite catchy. Just a bit smaller than this would be nice - I think this is too big for her, it's not well framed, if you get what I mean," she commented as she leafed through the magazine. "These skulls are amazing work," she remarked as she turned the page and found a series about colourful abstract Mexican sugar skull tattoos. "I think I saw something like that in one of our runes reference tomes, once."

"Wow. Yes - that thing really pops out. I do like those... tribal? Yes, tribal tattoos, though," Harry remarked. "Maybe I should get one of those," he joked.

"Marietta took a glance at him and frowned. "Don't take this wrong, Harry, but I don't think this would look even remotely as well on you. These guys in the photos, they are... beefy. You, on the other hand - I mean you're not a wimp, far from it, but you're not that size. I don't think these designs would look the same on a normal sized shoulder."

"Well," Harry responded, after taking a long look at his arm, and the bulging muscles visible under the ink on the photo. "I guess...yeah, you have a point, haven't you? That arm would be a leg on most people, though, to be honest."

"Pretty much," she agreed, laughing at the comparison he pictured.

"Soo... the butterfly, then?" Harry prompted.

"Good. Let's hurry back, then," he stated when she agreed with a nod, quickly flipping back to the page in question.

ooOOoo

"That design will be no problem, Miss. We can do it exactly like that, I am sure," the artisan goblin going by the name of Boneslicer told them after briefly surveying the photograph. "Would you mind leaving me this reference journal? There are a couple of interesting designs in here that I would like to make drawings of, for later use."

"Of course not. You can keep it, we do not have any use for it after this is done," Marietta replied, waving it off as she had a much more important question to pose. "About the size," she inquired, carefully. "Just how big would it need to be?"

"Tell me the area you want to be covered, and it will fit it," the goblin responded confidently. "In order to avoid miscommunication and later complaints, I must insist you show me the desired placement and size on your body."

"Oh, of course," Marietta stammered, pulling the hem of her shirt out of her skirt and turning around. Fidgeting a bit, she finally rolled it up and then tried to mark out an area on the small of her back with her fingers, indicating a strip across her body. "Would this be alright?"

"To be frank, this would be too large," the goblin responded. "I was to make the seal that wide, it would need to be quite tall, and that would take away from the delicate vines of the design. It should be about half as wide as your back for best placement, aesthetically," he concluded, repositioning her hands to indicate a much smaller area, and quickly measuring it against his hand in a series of quick gestures.

"That would be perfect! I wasn't aware it could be this filigree," Marietta admitted happily, which caused Boneslicer to frown.

"I am an artisan, not a farrier."

"Please do not take this as an insult, Master Boneslicer," Harry interrupted quickly. "She means no harm, she was simply stating her delight. I assume Master Pikeshaft has instructed you about the... special needs regarding this order?"

Boneslicer simply nodded. "I will proceed with haste. Allow me five hours, and it will be finished as specified."

"That would be around noon, right?" Harry inquired, consulting Pikeshaft for confirmation of the timetable.

"Indeed. We can arrange the bonding to be conducted at that time," Pikeshaft cut into the conversation. "In the meantime, we should conclude business regarding the inheritance, which should still leave you the better part of two hours to maybe conclude other business, if you have no further inquiries into the matter of the bond seal," the goblin proposed, effectively dismissing Boneslicer to go about his job.

With a nod of agreement from Harry, Boneslicer left, and the teens found themselves seated at the table, again.

"Now, regarding the inheritance," Pikeshaft picked up where he had left off, more than an hour ago. "There are the following stipulations to be taken care of - there is a small endowment of clothes to a Mister Remus Lupin, and a lump payment to the Malfoy estate. Other than that, the vaults and properties, especially the manor at #12 Grimmauld Place," he stated.

"You know that address?" Harry inquired, incredulously. He had been convinced that the secret would be impossible to overcome. Had it been broken, somehow? Maybe due to the owner of the house dying?

"Well, of course we do. Why wouldn't we?"

"Because it... it... it is supposed to be... a secret," Harry replied, having to try multiple wordings to get the words out.

"Oh - I see. Strange. That kind of warding is not in our records," Pikeshaft responded as he realised what was going on. "Kind of sloppy execution, though. Please try to tell me the address of the House Black ancestral home, Master Potter," he prompted, watching his counterpart curiously.

"You just told me it is at Grimmauld Place, number twelve - oh. OH! I can say it like that, but I can't ...," Harry spoke up in glee, only to falter when he tried to change the subject.

"Yes. The wording of the secret being guarded must be highly specific. Not surprising, as they are trying to hide an address well known to pretty much all of the wizarding population that is older than 20 who had followed the social events held by the upper class of their society," Pikeshaft explained, nonchalantly. "Trying to put that back in the proverbial box was a foolish idea, but I can see that simply hiding the way it is used is a viable option. As long as the owner of the property does not invite people there. And a swath of other problems that allow me to bypass the secret after you made me aware of its existence," he elaborated, before falling silent.

After a few moments, he cocked his head and then spoke up again. "Still, I can't utter the theory I have. Or bring up the address in a context regarding the secret. Which confirms it, but at the same time means I would have to rely on eventual co-conspirators to pick up the clues I had and come to the same conclusion. There is some serious power used in this particular enchantment, but the mere attempt to do this was foolish."

"Well, it helps that it makes the whole house disappear from sight, as well," Harry added, smirking at the goblin who was completely unaffected.

"Not quite. That is a charm that is in the records, and is a part of the warding scheme applied to the house. We applied it to the home when it was acquired, to hide it from the Muggles. The home is only visible when you are a wizard, and concentrate on its address."

Harry had to admit that this was a classic Dumbledore move. Not mentioning anything, and letting everybody assume it was him. He had felt the same when he had learned that it wasn't Dumbledore making the food appear at Hogwarts, but merely the elves using switching charms at his command.

"Anyway, you will take control of this house, and a house elf that comes with it," Pikeshaft continued, which caused Harry to sigh. Seeing Kreacher again was the last item on his wishlist, but then, he might enjoy wringing that wretched little creature's neck.

"Is there any problem with that, Master Potter?"

Looking up, Harry noticed both Pikeshaft and Marietta watching him. "There is some history regarding that particular elf," he noted. "Doesn't matter. At least we have a place to stay."

Pikeshaft responded with a deep frown that disillusioned Harry from that notion before he even opened his mouth.

"I'm afraid not. You being here this early and being the sole heir will speed up the processing of the will tremendously. Still, there is a legal path we need to follow. While you will be able to access the Potter funds right after the bonding is finished, the Black properties will only be accessible after the reading, which can take place tomorrow, around noon, at the earliest. I know this is inconvenient, but you will have the necessary gold to find temporary accommodation for that time being."

"It's just one night. I feared it would be much worse. Maybe the Weasleys can set us up with something," Marietta offered her thoughts .

"Maybe. Don't know. First, they are maniacs, and second, I don't really want to get them too involved with this. On the other hand, we already agreed we can't just set up camp at the Leaky Cauldron. Maybe our best bet is to exchange some gold for pounds and get a room at a muggle-side hotel," Harry proposed.

"There should be plenty of those available. I would also recommend getting an account and a card for those purposes, on top of actual money. It will make things much easier if you are not predominantly using cash. Of course, this means we will also have to make up paperwork for the both of you, as the hotel will certainly demand identification," Pikeshaft noted.

"Good idea. Can you set us up with all that, including passports? We might want to be able to leave the country, either for a trip or permanently, if things come to pass," Harry replied.

"For an appropriate fee, Gringotts can provide you with everything needed. In your case, this would be easy, as most records already exist. For Miss Edgecombe, I would propose an identity named Potter, as well, but you should claim maybe family relations, say, a cousin, if asked. Due to age reasons, registering her as your wife at your obvious age would cause too many issues at various agencies and whenever you present documents. We can change the paperwork to a marital cover story later, once your ages are more appropriate."

"I don't think it would work if I tried to get a double room with my cousin, Master Pikeshaft," Harry chuckled.

Pikeshaft had to stop and think for a moment before he could respond. "Indeed, Master Potter. But I doubt most hotels would let unrelated teenagers book double rooms, either. I think the saying goes 'That's what the Confundus charm was created for' Master Potter, but I think you would fare best to either get rooms with a connecting door or rather book a whole suite. You have the means, so why not spoil yourself a little. It is your honeymoon, after all, in a fashion. And since you are planning to spend a week there, having a living room and some space will certainly make things more palatable. Just make sure to mess up the second bedroom as if it were used, and not be too affectionate in public while this cover story is used."

"And silencing charms, remember those, too," he added with a smirk when the teens were already blushing profoundly at his advice given, his grin widening even more as they became even more flustered.

"Either way, regarding the proceedings. As you are adamant on maintaining your privacy, I would like to propose to you that we go forward and have you sign all the necessary paperwork right now, so you have no need to attend the reading. Unless you would like to waive your succession, in which case the balance of the will goes to the Malfoy family as next of kin."

"I take from your reaction that this is not your intention, so let's continue," he quipped when Harry frowned and muttered about rather tossing the gold into an active volcano.

"It is a standard will, with no personalised message or any fancy clauses - Mister Black insisted on making it an ironclad document that leaves not the slightest points of leverage. I will owl you once the reading is finalised, but since we have already dealt with all things, you can remain absent."

"Just to be sure - there is no way that Dumbledore or anyone strolls in, mumbles some mumbo-jumbo about sealing the wills, or presents some claims and I get shafted because I can't speak up?"

"No. Not with a will this ironclad. They would need to dig up the late Mister Black and have him personally challenge the will to have even the slightest chance to contest it. For Gringotts, the ownership will be passed over once we finalise this business, you do not need to be present at the reading, as you have already signed all paperwork. All the reading will do is officially notify the other claimants of their bequests, and the Ministry that the will has been processed, which is only a legal footnote. The Ministry will not dare to mess with the reading of a will of an ancient House like Black - the Wizengamot would not stand for such a precedent. And even if they did, any legislation could only be passed after the fact, and thus not apply to you."

"So we'll do this paperwork, you get it processed, we'll do the bonding, and tomorrow I will become owner of Black Manor?" Harry asked for confirmation. Pikeshaft was just about to confirm when he stalled and started pondering.

"Excuse me, but something just occurred to me. I do believe you would like to have all proceedings tailored towards delaying detection of your actions, am I right? Because technically, since you are the sole heir to the entire estate, which dwarfs the few insignificant bequests to be handled, we could split the reading and grant you immediate access to the property and vaults. The second, public reading could then be held up to a week later, if you can follow me, Master Potter."

Harry's grin was mirroring Pikeshaft's when he caught up to the plan.

"I'd like that. This would give us a week to adjust wards and get rid of the old Fidelius?"

"Not entirely. Legally, we can not deny existing access to properties until after the second reading, and just as well - breaking the charm would definitely be noticed by the secret keeper, and others. So while you could take possession of and use the property, you will only have limited access to the ward book until after the reading. You can add entries and edit those, but you can not edit existing entries above guest status. This is to make sure you do not evict people having residency claims due to blood, contract, or similar agreements without them able to bring those forward during the hearing."

"Guest status?" Harry echoed, in a questioning tone.

"Ward books distinguish between family, house members, friends, and guests, with varying levels of access," Marietta commented.

Harry perked up, nodding. "Ah, I understand. Makes sense. I am pretty sure Sirius would only have given the Order people guest access, though."

"In that case, you would be able to strike their access from the book, but still, they could present residence claims during the hearing," Pikeshaft confirmed. Seeing the looming question forming, he continued.

"And yes, you could dismiss any of those claims not in writing out of hand, and would only be bound by the letter of law in regards to written contracts. You can void those, but would be held to terms of notice, and have to refund payments made. But you will only be able to access the records and the ward book after we initiate the reading."

"Alright, then all left to do is to get the paperwork done, isn't it?" Harry stated, clapping his hands and rubbing them.

"All but one. One last thing that needs to be settled - the price," Pikeshaft contradicted. Getting only blank looks in return, he elaborated. "The price for Miss Edgecombe."

Harry's eyes widened in recognition. "Oh, that! We actually never ag.."

"One Knut!" Marietta growled. Now it was two sets of surprised wide eyes staring into one pair of angry squinted ones.

"It's going straight to my uncle, and I'm not willing to give him ANY meaningful amount of money. If I could bite a Knut in half, I'd give him that!" she snarled, fuming in anger.

"I understand the sentiment, but are you sure, Miss Edgecombe?" Pikeshaft queried, trying to hit a placating tone. "You are aware that this could become public knowledge, and damage your reputation quite severely."

"What reputation? There will be none left after this transaction," Marietta huffed. "Yes, I know, it will affect Potter, as well. Just add a phrase to the contract stating that both a life debt, and a debt of honour is being repaid, and therefore the price was set at the minimum legal amount."

"I do in fact owe him both, so it's not even a lie," she grumbled, slumping in her chair, fighting the urge to cry.

Harry awkwardly fidgeted about in his chair for a second, not sure how to console her. In the end, he reiterated his offer. "Marietta - we can still call this off. There is enough money in my vault that we could just try to make a run for it and get you out of the country."

"Oh shut up, already, Potter," she snapped back, annoyed, but her voice softened immediately after.

"I know you're being all noble and whatnot, but I don't really see any chance we'd pull that off. You are a decent chap, so I guess it's not going to be any worse than any marriage I would be looking forward to, anyway. I promise to be exemplary towards you, just let me rant at my fate for as long as I am still free to do so. You're going to be busy for quite some time signing all this, I'll be done by then, I guess."

Harry returned the small smile she gave him at the end, but felt he needed to be sure.

"So we are doing this?" Seeing her putting on a brave facade and nodding her consent, he gave a deep sigh and gathered his courage."

"Well, quill me, then, Pikeshaft," he stated, and bravely faced the huge mound of paper to sign.

As promised, by the time they were done, they were proud owners of mint condition forged papers and Harry sporting a shiny new debit card. Walking out,Harry had a brief chuckle examining his new card, but waved Marietta off when she inquired, muttering about Muggle jokes she would not get, anyway.