When Harry Potter Goes Dark Phoenix
Disclaimer: SEE FIRST CHAPTER
Review Answers:
Caadiz: Then I hope you enjoy the rest that is to come;
Dennisud: No, I said she's going to be in the same year as those people, not that they'll be paired with Harry, because they won't;
Jostanos: Batten down the hatches, old friend: a Dark Phoenix is coming, and bringing a storm capable of ending the universe with him;
Albus potter-greengrass: Not anymore;
Runningthestral: Who says he hasn't?
"At the risk of feeding an age-old cliché…take me to your leader?"
Chapter 2: Danger! Sleeping Dragon Tickled!
"Hmm…"
Caution.
"Urgh…"
Interest.
"Grr…"
Curiosity.
"Mmm…"
"So, are you actually going to talk to me, leader of Gringotts, or do you expect me to communicate with you by making a load of unintelligible grunts and growls like Hagrid whenever he's around the bigger loser lately?"
Behind the impudent, if not strong-willed and brave-hearted youth who was sat across from him, the leader, aka War-Chief, of Gringotts Albion, Chief Ragnok, saw his two guards' hands edge towards their weapons at the rudeness of the human who sat with their leader, though not before he also shook his head warningly, stopping them from making a stupid mistake.
And not just because, by looking into the boy's eyes, Ragnok could see that humans had already won the award for Stupidest Decision In History.
As his guards eased off, Ragnok looked again to Harry James Potter, who was sitting as casual as you like, one arm draped across the back of his chair while he was actually reclining cross-ways across said seat. He'd even kicked up his bare feet and, to Ragnok's amusement and curiosity, he didn't seem all that concerned by what he was saying or doing, no matter who or what it was he was sharing company with.
Clearing his throat, Ragnok answered Harry, "My apologies for not addressing you, Lord Potter: as you may or may not have noticed upon entry to the bank, many of my subordinates have become rather…tense with you, not for any reason other than the fact that, when they look at you, as I do and have done since you sat down, they feel like they are staring into the eyes of a bloodthirsty dragon with a fondness for the flesh of our young."
"The only thing I have a fondness for is freedom, as well as business, and my reason for being here today," argued Harry, though his lips twitched in amusement at Ragnok's description of what sort of impact he was having on the goblins themselves.
"And…" asked Ragnok, a part of him whispering an ominous warning into his ear about choosing his words carefully with this dangerous soul of magic. "Exactly what is your reason for being here today, Lord Potter?"
"A proposal," said Harry.
Before Ragnok could ask about that, Harry snapped his fingers, which caused a large black box to materialise on the table between them; the box was open, if not exposed, and, to Ragnok's surprise, it was filled with no less than fifteen large, dark-coloured eggs, all of which seemed to shake and tremble ominously as they appeared before Harry.
"Eggs?" asked Ragnok.
"Dragon eggs," answered Harry, earning a shocked look from Ragnok, who quickly warned his guards off again as the sight of the eggs caused them to once again consider drawing their weapons on Harry.
And with good reason, as Ragnok quickly explained to the apathetic teenager opposite him.
"Lord Potter, while I am both intrigued and curious about the methods with which you have come to possess such a vast number of dragon eggs at once, I feel I must warn you that, unlike what you may have seen on any communications with Gringotts, our true crest holds the shape of a dragon for a very good reason."
"If you mean am I trying to flog you some stolen eggs, the answer's no," said Harry in a matter-of-fact voice, indicating the box of eggs as he went on. "What I am doing, however, is offering you spoils of war, won by me as a result of being, somewhat-reluctantly forced to slay their poor Mother in the First Task of the Triwizard Tournament earlier. Also, I didn't know about your true crest, as I haven't had any communications with you before this meeting, so while I'm hoping you'll pardon my ignorance, I won't hold my breath…but I will wish I'd washed my neck, since it's clear your only interest is removing my head from my shoulders for some slight I'm apparently supposed to know about, but don't, thank you, Hogwarts and its incompetent old fool in the golden toilet seat!"
His eyes shone with hatred and fury as he snarled out the last words, earning a surprised look from Ragnok, while Harry sneered, "In the meantime, Chief, if you're not going to do business with me, just say so and let me leave…trust me; the way I feel right now, it's not wise to tickle this sleeping dragon, no matter what's on your flags and standards."
Again, Ragnok's instincts screamed caution, while the war chief himself took a deep breath before, gesturing to his guards, he watched them leave his hall, leaving him alone with the young man sat across from him, as well as the quarry of eggs laid between them.
After a few tense minutes, Ragnok eyed the box of eggs before he asked, "I heard you had indeed been entered into the Tournament, Lord Potter, which is one of the reasons I am even addressing you as Lord Potter. However, I was not made aware of the death of the dragon mother, much less your claiming her unborn by Right of Conquest."
"Which either means someone isn't doing their job properly, and given he's the only goblin I've ever dealt with, my money's on Griphook," said Harry, earning a surprised look from Ragnok, while the emerald-eyed scion went on. "Or, more-likely, Albus Dumble-douchebag is having to dig into his low-brow bag of tricks to keep the news in Hogwarts and on a need-to-know basis, which, since every other member of the 6 billion plus on the planet aren't Albus Dumbledore, means they don't need to know…either way, I'm sure we can do business now, yes?"
"Yes…in a moment…" said Ragnok, excusing himself from the room, though not before Harry saw a plate of treats, along with – to his surprise and amusement – a hot, steaming pitcher of coffee appear on the desk, next to the eggs.
Shrugging dismissively at the offer, Harry poured himself a good-sized mug before he reached for one of the biscuits.
"When in Rome…"
HPDP
"Get what's mine…get Sirius' name cleared…torment the sick motherfucker who put my name in the Goblet…find out what sorry excuse for a pissing contest is coming next…oh wait, I already know that one…boy…this is going to be a bor-r-r-r-r-r-ing year!"
Groaning as he realised just how little he'd have to care about what came next, Harry scoffed amusingly as he mused, "Guess I'll have to make my own fun, then, won't I? Hmm…where to begin, though? Snivellus? Weasel-bee? Madam Throw-Up? Or maybe I should start with my so-called rivals in this little measuring contest…well…maybe not Krum; boy, it would really stick it to Malfoy and Weasley if I managed to get on such good terms with the Quidditch superstar…hmm…I wonder…"
As he mused on his plans, Harry heard the door to the Chieftain's Chamber open again, earning a sigh of relief from Harry, "About time…then again, whatever he had to deal with, it was obviously important."
"Indeed it was, Lord Potter," said Ragnok, though when the chief returned to his seat, Harry cocked an eyebrow when he noticed that the chief's body seemed to be heavily-stained with blood, while he had a bandaged wound along one ear. Harry also took note of the fact that the war-axe that Ragnok wore at his belt was now just as heavily-stained with blood, as well as what looked like fresh sinews and skin patches.
"Let me guess…goblin killing spree?"
"In a matter of speaking," drawled Ragnok, though his lips twitched amusingly as he looked up to Harry. "When you told me how you had dealt with the goblin now-formerly known as Griphook, alarm bells rang in my mind, Lord Potter. For you see, before her death, your Mother, may she rest in peace, as well as your Father, may he rest in peace, arranged it with Gringotts that any and all affairs concerning your fortunes and all that will help you be the best you can be, were to be handled by a goblin executive named Slipknot, if not my-personal-self or, if your godfather agreed, even the Black Family's goblin executive officer, Master Riptide."
"But…I'm guessing not Griphook?" asked Harry calmly.
"Griphook isn't even supposed to be allowed to handle a key, much less guide any witch or wizard down to the vaults," answered Ragnok, earning a raised eyebrow from Harry. "He is, as we would call him, blood-smelted, which means him and his kinsmen were declared as criminals, as well as oathbreakers and false-keepers of the creed and neutrality between Gringotts and humans. The last time a goblin dared to betray the creed of neutrality was the Forsaken One, Ranrok, and that was a whole century ago."
"And…I'm guessing Griphook wasn't alone in going against that, then?"
"Not only that," said Ragnok, finally wiping blood from his chief's armour as he explained, "It would seem that Griphook's defiance also allowed him to ignore the fact that you yourself broke Rule One of the Code of Vaults and Treasuries, Lord Potter."
"Which is?"
"That nobody other than the client, meaning you, is meant to wield their vault's key," explained Ragnok, earning an enraged look from Harry.
At the same time, the now-empty drinks holder, as well as the empty plate smashed and melted away, as though they'd been eaten by acid, as Harry hissed, "I allowed the Weasley control freak to take my key, so she could pay for my school things, while I was at the Quidditch World Cup with the other redheaded rabbits and the brown-haired bimbo."
"And it would seem that she did do that," said Ragnok, before he took a deep, slow breath, as he pressed on. "However, Lord Potter, if I may be so bold, you have dealt with your vault and your fortunes every summer since your first. Even last year, while it was not for your school things…"
"Thanks to Fudge paying for my things in some sort of protective aid for something that's a load of bullshit anyway," growled Harry.
Ragnok nodded, "My point is, you have always handled your key…except for before your first summer."
"Rubeus Hagrid had it," explained Harry, sitting bolt upright, all sense of relaxation forgotten as he went on. "In fact, Ragnok, up to that day, I didn't even know…"
"That you are the sole owner of the wealthiest, largest and most-profitable, not to mention coveted and highest-of-highly-secure vaults and treasuries in Gringotts since the days of Emrys himself, Goddess Grace Him, and the Four Founders of Hogwarts?"
Harry sat even straighter-still, if that were possible.
His green eyes burned so coldly, so darkly and so full of fire and fury that he almost seemed to be thrumming with raw magic.
Suddenly, Ragnok's cautionary nature turned into one of alarm, while Harry's voice was cold, icy, unforgiving and full of raw fury.
"All right, Ragnok…I'm listening: tell me everything…and, since I swear on my parents' graves that I am innocent of any knowledge of the crimes committed by those I thought I could trust, you can start by telling me how I can make amends for this blatant crime perpetrated by the Weasel…"
As he hissed out the word, Harry sneered, his expression beyond-murderous as he growled…
"No…from now on, you can consider them the Magpie Family…and, trust me, Goblin Chief, if I get away from this today, I will make them all pay!"
So, a short second chapter and it looks like there's a hell of a lot that Harry should have known, but doesn't, but once he's taken in everything that the Gringotts Chief himself has to say, what will he do with the knowledge, on top of the power, he now has?
Also, will Harry be able to make anything from the dragon eggs, apart from possible dragon omelettes, and now another kind of sleeping dragon has been tickled, who will feel the flames first…or worst?
Keep Reading to Find Out
Next Chapter: Harry has one final stop to make before he returns to the sheep farm: a stop that promises things worse than the darkest nightmares for everyone who stands in his way; also, our definitely-NOT-a-hero makes plans of a far-darker nature than people may expect from a boy like Harry Potter: one thing's for sure. He's definitely not a leetle boy now…
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PORTRAYAL
Ragnok – voice: Peter Dinklage