Chapter 7: Jack's Smirking Revenge
Harry woke early, his body used to having breakfast. Taking his time showering and dressing, he made it to the doors of the Great Hall in time to see Ron heading past the doors leading outside.
"Ron, wait!" Harry called.
Ron stopped and turned to his friend. "Mornin', mate," he said.
Harry noticed how morose his friend sounded. "Is something wrong?"
"No, Harry, nothing's wrong. Death Eaters attack the village, you're the hero of the hour! Even Neville takes down three of them. Neville! And here I am, smacked down by a curse from a dark wizard I didn't even see." Ron's face pinked up. "I didn't get a single spell off, Harry. Didn't even see them. What kind of friend am I, Harry, if even Neville can defend you better than I can? What kind of wizard am I?"
Harry smiled. Ron had a tendency to be self-centered, but this time his problem seemed to be self-confidence.
"You're looking at this the wrong way, Ron," Harry said. "Here, follow me." Harry opened the one of the front doors and took a seat on the front steps of the castle. Ron sat down heavily beside him, his body curling in defeat. Behind them, the great door thunked closed.
Harry pointed at the town in the distance. "Okay, there's Madam Rosmerta's, there's the new bank, and there's Gladrags. See?"
"Yeah?"
"Well, look at the streets," Harry said, pointing to each spot as they were mentioned. He was glad it was a rare, clear morning. "There's the side street across from Gladrags that goes to The Hog's Head. One group of them was down that road. So when you came out of the bank they were behind you. No way could you see them. Now, look past Gladrags, see the way the main road sort of splits, one fork going to Dervish and Banges, the other to Puddifoot's? That's where the other group came from. From the bank, those Death Eaters were hidden behind Scrivenshaft's and Gladrags. Even I couldn't see them until they met up with the main road. There's no way you could have seen either group, mate. They came together just as you started crossing for Honeydukes. That's bad luck, pure and simple. Not lack of skill.
"Of course," Harry said, smiling, "you're not built for speed like I am, so you're a big, slow, easy target with all that red hair." Ron popped him one in the shoulder, laughing. Harry squinted and rubbed his arm.
"Oof! Now, don't be so down on Neville. He's improved an awful lot the last couple years and you know it, outside of the three of us, he's probably the best in the DA. Plus, he was in the perfect spot for us to get them in a crossfire. They were fixated on me alone, so they never saw him coming. Besides, think of all the people you got to safety. You didn't get a chance to fight," Harry finished, reaching over and patting his friend on the back, "but you did save a lot of lives."
Ron sighed, but his back straightened considerably with the praise. "Thanks, Harry. I guess I needed a little sense knocked into me."
Harry laughed. "You seem to need that a lot. Just, next time? Let me be the one to knock it into you, rather than Bellatrix Lestrange."
Ron smacked his friend in the shoulder again. They got up and headed inside. The pair split up, Ron to get to his first class and Harry to eat breakfast. "I'll see you for lunch, Harry," Ron called out as he loped up the nearest stairwell.
Harry took a seat in the Great Hall and nabbed the last of the toast sitting in front of him. A glass of pumpkin juice appeared, along with a clean plate and utensils. He began to eat.
He took his time, stopping to talk with some of the other members of the DA club that had study hour this class period, but when he finally finished he still had ninety minutes before he had to go back to the Headmaster's office. He decided to head back outside and test his theory one last time.
He found a tree not too far away from where Hagrid was teaching a group of first years, but far enough away that he wouldn't interrupt. Taking out his Galleon Pouch he tied it to a branch, then stepped back fifteen paces.
Harry Potter spent the next forty-five minutes assaulting a piece of cloth.
A war was waged on that pouch, but in the end it was Harry who gave in first. He couldn't even accio it. Stunning spells, banishing spells, cleaving spells, even Hermione's favorite, Bluebell Flames, nothing could touch it. As a last ditch effort, Harry reached out his arm toward the Galleon Pouch and concentrated fiercely on the bag, focusing on bringing it to his hand. Harry opened his eyes just in time to duck. A scrap of fabric or not, it had been coming so fast he was sure it would take his head off. It was much easier to just bend down and pick it up off the grass. Tossing it into the air and concentrating a little, it returned to his hand with ease.
Taking his place on the steps in front of the castle he put together the pieces of the puzzle in front of him. The first piece was Moody's response when Harry had shown him the bag.
Mad-Eye Moody was currently serving in his second "real" term as the Defense professor. His first year was mostly for cover - he'd spent most evenings dueling Harry. Ostensibly, he was teaching Harry how to defend himself but it was well into the second term before Harry no longer had to crawl on all fours up the steps to his dorm at night. It wasn't until a month before the end of the term that Harry managed to defeat the retired Auror for the first time.
For close to three hours Moody poked and prodded the bag, casting revealing spells, unlocking spells, a number of other special, secret charms the aurors were taught. By the time he was through, Moody could only say for certain that he knew of no way the bag could be breached, nor could the magic be duplicated. He was also fairly certain the magic on the bag was not of human origin. "Just don't feel right," he'd said.
That last part Harry hadn't been sure of. His own powers of enchantment were growing daily. Returning to his dorm after visiting Moody, he'd spent several hours inspecting the bag with his enchantment power. He could feel the threads of energy along the seams, followed the tiny strings of power as they crisscrossed the fabric. Try as he might, he couldn't even get the smallest of those strings to move or change. He couldn't even break them. By the time he was finished he was exhausted, but fairly certain the headmaster wouldn't be able to break or alter the magic either.
After all that, the boy sitting in front of Hogwarts could only conclude one thing:
In his hand, Harry Potter held a piece of cloth, created by goblin magic, that was immune to wand magic. Including, he presumed, the killing curse.
At this point, it was a good thing that the goblins were coming to see him. He'd probably cost Gryffindor the House Cup if he got caught sneaking out again. He'd try his best to be courteous to the goblins, that's simply the way he was, but he also knew there were going to be some serious business negotiations if what he wanted was possible.
Speaking of goblins, he had half an hour to get showered and dressed and back down to meet them.
---
He had three minutes to spare as he spoke the phrase to the gargoyle. He wondered if it was even possible for crème to be crispy, and decided that yanks must not be very smart if they couldn't even spell small words correctly. Reaching the top of the stairs, he heard Dumbledore speaking to the goblins; in particular, he was thanking them for using the vault to protect his students. Harry stepped into the room just as the professor had finished his praise.
Once fully inside the office, Harry saw that three goblins were seated in front of the large desk, upon the corner of which the headmaster was relaxedly perched. Fawkes was no where in sight, but crisp air was breezing through an open window. An unoccupied chair sat next to the three goblins.
The goblin furthest from him was Overseer K'Shiv. The second one was clearly older than the Overseer, but his beady, active eyes belied his age. Lastly sat the clerk and Harry tried to remember his name. 'Corn, Card, Cart... wait, Karn! '
Harry nodded at each goblin, greeting them from the outside in. "Good morning, Overseer K'Shiv, Mr. Karn, professor.
"Good to meet you too, sir," he said to the unknown goblin, shaking hands with each goblin. He then took the last seat for his own.
"A most unique student you have, Headmaster," said K'Shiv, nodding in Harry's direction and frowning deeply. "He was the one who told us to open our vaults and to invite everyone there for safety, clearly not realizing how merely asking is a violation of the goblin code. In fact, he did not even ask, he ordered. "
Harry cringed - it was not an auspicious beginning.
"Then, he activates our golems. He did not ask permission to do so, he did not request that we do so. It is not easy to create a golem of that size, not to mention the very intricate friend-or-foe incantation that is placed on them.
"Next he orders me around, orders me!, and runs off before I can even respond. I was so astounded by his outrageous behavior I could do little more then nod my head like a fool. And here he sits now, polite as can be, as if such dire events did not happen just days ago."
Harry decided that this meeting was not going nearly as well as he'd hoped. "I'm very sor-"
The Overseer cut him off abruptly, but not without the smallest of smiles. A great number of frightfully sharp teeth were displayed. "Save your apologies, young wizard. I would like to introduce Undersecretary Arva. I may run this branch of the bank, but I still report to the London. When my comments were received by the main branch, the Undersecretary was dispatched. He is the being in charge of all the smaller branches we've opened in Great Britain."
Harry dropped his head. He hadn't realized K'Shiv ran the bank, plus he'd peeved them to the point of sending out one of the most important goblins in all of England!
Arva, the older goblin, took over. "Lift your head, young master. I can see your father's earnestness in you. I was in charge of your family's accounts for nearly fifty years before I was promoted out of Major Accounts into administration duties. You have managed to violate about half the terms of the human-goblin covenant, but I wouldn't worry too much over that.
Harry tried to remember when the last Goblin Rebellion ended, but he hadn't had History of Magic in two years and hadn't paid much attention when it was a required course. The stricken face of the young student two seats over from him made Undersecretary Arva laugh, and even Dumbledore was smiling more than usual.
"You misunderstand us," said Arva. "You gave us much to think about. Our policies were written in a time when humans were the enemy. We are a somewhat subjugated people, and we are not happy with that, but we certainly are not powerless. Our gold, and our control of your money," Arva said, clearly meaning all the money in the wizarding world, "gives us a lot of influence in the affairs of humans. We do not ask for more because we do not care to spend that much time with your kind."
He went on to say, "Our traditions were set down when there was a struggle between both species. We are no longer at war with your kind. You have made something clear to us: that individuals can create great change, and that the actions of individuals cannot be used to make generalizations, good or bad. The things you did on Saturday, Master Potter," Arva stressed, leaning towards the student, "saved many lives. Not just human lives. You ensured that our kind would also be safe, specifically ordering that goblins seek protection inside the vaults as well."
Harry wanted to protest, but wisely chose to keep quiet, hoping the goblins would consider him favorably. He needed things from them. He knew he chose the vaults because they were the safest place in town, period. However, he also knew that he had wanted the goblins protected as well. A life was a life was a life. S.P.E.W., while a fundamentally flawed concept, was based on truth: the other sentient creatures of the magical world were getting shafted by the Ministries.
Arva went on. "Accordingly, our rules and traditions are being reconsidered. All branches will open their vaults for the protection of anyone, regardless of species, in times of attack. A stipulation in the Human Accords of 1743 - to you, I'm sure these are referred to as the Goblin Accords of the same year - gives us the right to freeze the account of any account holder who "makes war upon" goblin-kind. Other accords and treaties give us the right to decide when and how we make that distinction. In England what is done with the frozen accounts is decided by the Wizengamot, of which your headmaster is Chief Wizard. So, from this time forward, any known Death Eater who participates in an attack in a town in which we have a branch will immediately forfeit all of his accounts with us. Furthermore, anyone who defends a town under attack will receive a reward. Any costs incurred from injuries sustained in said attacks will be covered by us, with further remuneration should any disabilities result. Each branch will have ample supplies of golem defenses to use, as well as a new model that actively seeks out enemies within the vicinity of the local bank. We are ramping up our production considerably.
"It might interest you to know," Arva finished, "that there are currently twenty-two branches outside London, with many more under construction. Of course, we can't be in every city, but we certainly have a lot of places covered."
Harry was a bit confused by the all legal jargon but realized that was how goblins talked. He was also in awe of what he understood - the goblins had chosen to stand against Voldemort -- and it was all thanks to kicking over two buckets of water without first asking permission.
"Err," Harry stuttered. "Thank you. It will mean a lot to people to know that their homes are, I guess, "insured" against Death Eater attacks. It's also good to know that people will be taken care of if they get hurt. I know that not all wizards have the kind of money I do. Maybe knowing that will help more people stand against Voldemort." Harry was surprised; none of the goblins flinched at hearing the Dark Lord's name.
"Oh, my," said Arva, turning to Dumbledore. "He is a polite one. Very considerate of others, too, except for the bandying about the Dark Lord's name thing. Not that he was particularly polite or considerate to the Overseer here when the village was under attack." Harry blushed under everyone's gaze.
Dumbledore replied, "Harry has the distinction of being both one of the most well-mannered yet least obedient students in recent history. To the latter especially, as you said before, he does indeed remind me of his father."
Arva laughed heartedly, and K'Shiv reentered the conversation. "We, particularly Karn and myself, are deeply in your debt, Master Potter. If you ever have need, feel free to call on us." Karn nodded as emphatically as a goblin could.
Arva took over. "We considered a great number of gifts we could provide you, to show our appreciation. We considered giving you a position on our Board of Directors until it was discovered that an ancient law requires all board members to be over 250 years old. In the end we decided that we will no longer charge you a service fee on your accounts. However, since we still make a considerable profit from your money through loans and the like, we feel that is not enough. So we have decided to give you all the rights and privileges of an adult goblin, something that has not been bestowed on a human since Gryffindor himself was given the honor for donating the land on which our London branch now sits. You now have the power to vote in our elections, you are eligible to work in our businesses should you choose, and you are free to travel in our underground cities. We also grant you one boon - ask for something, and if it is in our power it is yours, Mister Potter."
Harry was astounded. "I-I, uh. Thank you. That's way too much sir, far more than I deserve. I didn't do anything special at all, and I certainly didn't do it for any kind of reward."
"Harry," Dumbledore interjected, "I believe that is the point. A great amount of grief has come to you in your short life, with more in your future. Throughout all of it, you are still one of the most kind and generous people I have had the pleasure of meeting. If there is such a thing as Karma, an untold amount of good must come your way as well. I'm sure this is just a portion."
"Thank you, sir," Harry said to his teacher before turning to the assembled goblins. "And thank all of you. I'll try to be a, uh, good citizen. I actually do have a favor to ask. Two, really."
The goblins leaned forward eagerly and Arva spoke. "Please ask, Harry. We shall do our best to accommodate your requests."
At this point, one of the paintings loudly addressed the headmaster. "Albus, there's been an accident with the second years in potions. Apparently that midget Charms professor of yours, Flitwick, taught them the Bat-Bogey hex, and a Slytherin decided to try it on a Gryffindor, but couldn't pull it off and instead emptied his own cauldron over his head."
Dumbledore turned and addressed the portrait. "It seems to me, Dilys, the problem is not our Professor Flitwick, but a student who got a taste of his own medicine. Do tell Severus I shall meet them in the Hospital Ward shortly."
He turned back and addressed his guests. "I'm afraid I need to take my leave now. I thank you all for coming. I know you and Harry still have things to discuss - feel free to take as long as you need. Harry, if you finish before I return, please escort these gentlebeings back to a point from which they may safely apparate?"
"Of course, sir," Harry replied to the headmaster's already-retreating back.
"Well, my requests are just idea right now. The first one has to do with those golems of yours. You say you are increasing production?" Undersecretary Arva nodded and Harry went on. "I was thinking that if you made them smaller, say about a foot tall, they would be very useful and easily concealable weapons. Using a charm to increase the space inside an object, the earth and water could be placed in separate glass balls the size of, say, a marble. Is that possible, and if so, could I get a supply of them?"
The three goblins leaned together and whispered. Harry was surprised to see a lowly bank teller was included in the discussion - there seemed to more discipline in the goblin world, but less of a power structure. Or maybe they were such good businessmen because they made decisions based on more information than wizards did.
K'Shiv was the first to respond. "I don't know if you are aware, but golems are actually a human invention, created in a time long before order was established in the wizarding world. They predate even magical wands and were used by religious mystics in times of need. I don't know for certain if we can create the kind you request, but we will try. Karn had an ingenious idea. Do you have your pouch?" he asked.
"Yes," said Harry, taking it out from under he robe.
"Take out two galleons, hold them together and throw them at the wall."
Harry did as he was asked. The coins flew across the room, but landed nearly two feet apart. There was no way no way two marbles would land close enough to activate a golem. "I see what you mean," Harry responded dejectedly.
"No, no, it's not a bad idea, Mister Potter. Karn has suggested we use an hourglass shaped bauble instead, the ingredients separated by a glass plate charmed to... well, it's no matter. We will look into its construction. It would also provide a means of personal protection. It could easily be marketed. "The Elemental Guardian for the rest of us." Yes, much potential. We'd need to find a human distributor, though."
Harry perked up at that. "I'm not sure if this is legal or not, but try talking to Fred or George Weasley. They run a shop in Diagon Alley called Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. They're mostly a joke shop, but they also sell items for eavesdropping and the like. They're starting a line of products based on their early work for personal defense and covert operations. Several groups opposing Voldemort, including the Auror Division have already contracted them."
"Why would it not be legal for you to tell us?" Arva inquired. "They sound like the perfect company for this."
Harry blushed. "I own a significant interest in the company."
The undersecretary nodded. "I see. No, it's not illegal. In fact, that makes them all the more desirable. We know you would not support a business that catered to dark magic or those who practice it. Now, what is the second request?"
"It's about this pouch the overseer gave me. Watch." Harry tossed the bag in the air and fired two stunning curses at it. It floated to the ground unaffected. Harry then summoned it with his wand, again to no avail.
"That is how it works, Mister Potter. Is there some problem?" K'Shiv asked.
"No, no, not at all. It's very powerful magic. A professor here and I have spent almost half a day apiece trying to destroy this bag with no luck."
"And that luck will not change, Mister Potter," said Arva. "That is very special, very powerful goblin magic. The magic used in its construction is utterly different that anything your species can duplicate. The material is common, but the gift of binding is very rare, even for us. Only a few are so gifted, and their fee is enormous. Few of these bags are made, and they are only given to our best customers. We wish it were otherwise - the pouch makes spending money easier, and spending money makes us money."
Harry leaned forward and stared at them intently. "I want a set of robes made with this magic. Three, actually. One for me and one each for my friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. Larger pockets in both of them, and in mine and Hermione's I want a connection to my vault. Ron has his own, from his shares in the Weasley business. Above all, I especially want the anti-spell capabilities."
Undersecretary Arva frowned. "I wish that we could, Mister Potter. As I said the magic is rare and the fee paid to the binder is enormous. The sheer size of the object, not to mention three of them... I am sorry, there is no way for it to be done."
Harry sat back in his chair and considered. The goblins seem to be obsessed with money, Harry decided. 'It's possible,' Harry thought, 'their magic is rooted in it as well.'
Harry sat up straight and said, "I'll pay the binder one hundred thousand galleons for a prototype if you can deliver by next Saturday, with an additional twenty-five thousand per robe after."
The goblins gasped. Harry continued.
"On top of that, I will tell you how you can have a presence in every city and town and village and even crossroad in all of England, all without opening a single branch office. I think that tips the scales back into my favor, so I also request that you provide the same restitution services in all these new places as well."
Arva jumped up, followed by his companions. He stuck out his hand and grasped Harry's as he, too, rose from his seat.
"We'll send out a tailor at your earliest convenience."
Harry smiled and escorted them to the steps.
"Now, have any of you heard of a muggle invention called an ATM?"
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This chapter ends here for two reasons. First, I blathered on so long with the gobbles. Second, a new chapter of
Acceptance of Fate was just posted, and I want to see if we got lucky and Snape fell down the stairs and broke his
neck, the slimy git. The third reason of the two reasons (love that logic) is that I am going on vacation next week and
I need to clean the house, get the dogs into a kennel and empty out the war zone known as the backseat of my car -
gotta put the luggage somewhere, and the trunk is full. I'll try to post during the week, but I make no promises.
Before I leave though, I hope to at least post the duel and a date with Hermione. I've not done right by her yet,
but I will make amends. I'm going into a LOT more detail than I had intended. It's not my usual way of writing,
but I'm used to less space and far more structure. And a really good beta.
For the moment at least, I'm only posting this story to PK. I know that's costing me some readers, but I like PK, and it's very easy to post and is a reliable server. So, if you like this story, please review. Maybe sending a few friends my way wouldn't be out of the question, either? I'm partial to redheads, but all are welcome...