Unofficial Portkey Archive

Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the 'Harry Potter' universe, nor do I make any money from playing with the characters. I do not own or profit from the lyric bits I use, either.

A/N: Here it is! Believe it or not, this entire chapter is Harry's meeting with the goblins… all 8,808 words of it! I'm guessing that there will be two more chapters after this one, maybe three, but I doubt it. Please excuse any typos you find… I'm sure there are some in here that I missed… and I usually catch them AFTER the chapter's posted! Oh, well, enjoy!

-----~-----

Chapter 50: A Jagged Alliance

The window burns to light the way back home,
a light that warms, no matter where they've gone.
They're off to find the hero of the day…
but what if they should fall by someone's wicked way?
Still, the window burns, time so slowly turns…
Someone there is sighing.
Keepers of the flames,
do you feel your names?
Do you hear your babies crying?

Can't you hear your babies crying now?

Excerpt from the song, 'Hero of the Day,' by the band, Metallica.

-----~-----

Harry landed hard on what he assumed to be a rough-hewn stone floor. He couldn't really tell because of his tightly clenched eyes, but even if he did open them, he still wouldn't have been able to see a thing in the pitch darkness surrounding him.

Harry didn't know whether to laugh, cry or scream. Unable to decide, he just laid there on the warm stone and tried to take control of his ragged breathing. He knew they were just boggarts, but that knowledge didn't seem to be helping him at all. It didn't stop the image of Hermione's hateful, leering scowl from dominating his thoughts. It couldn't erase the image of Kotone's blank, lifeless eyes staring at him and the sight of her normally hyperactive hair just falling limply around her shoulders.

It reminded him much too closely of when he saw Sirius falling through the veil in the Department of Mysteries and when Dumbledore arced over the wall near the Astronomy Tower at Hogwarts. He felt the same disbelief… the same terror… the same helplessness… but this was somehow different. This shook him to his very core. He could still feel the painful, cramping sensation in his heaving chest. He could still feel his adrenaline-fueled nerves twitching spasmodically. He could still hear the buzzing in his ears that seemed to vibrate through his head.

He could still hear Voldemort's calm, taunting voice when he had asked Harry to choose. He just knew that if it came down to it, he could never choose between Hermione and Kotone. At this point in his life, he would be nothing without either one of them… and he knew it.

He wasn't sure how long he was laying there before he calmed himself down enough to open his eyes. He unsteadily rose to a seated position on the floor and cast a Lumos with his gloved hand, but the light that the spell provided only lit up a circular area of the bare, stone floor around him didn't seem to reach the ceiling or even the surrounding walls.

Harry pushed himself up, attempting and failing to rise from the floor. He looked down and saw through his torn trousers that there was a deep, thin gash running along his left calf just above his ankle. He also noticed a slowly widening bloodstain around his left shoulder. He could tell by the small hole in his shirt that he had been hit with a piercing hex. He realized with a grimace that not all of the boggart Hermione's spells had missed him as he dove for the wand horcrux in the shop's window. He quickly checked the rest of himself over and thankfully found that there were no other pressing injuries, but now that his adrenaline rush was fading, he began to more acutely notice the pain that he was in his leg and shoulder.

He was about to make another attempt at standing, but froze in place as he heard the ominous sound of metal scraping on metal. Harry then saw a sliver of light coming from a slowly opening door. The light streaming in was tinged orange, but a brief flash of yellow-red accompanied by a booming roar from beyond the door instantly reminded Harry of his encounter in the first Tri-wizard task. He tensed up and slipped Ravenclaw's wand into his bag before he carefully directed his glove towards the figures that stepped into the light of the doorway.

He had almost forgotten that he got to where he was by using the portkey that Gringotts had sent him until a host of torches that were set into the walls sparked to life the moment the figures stepped into the room.

In the new light, Harry could tell that he was in a massive stone chamber roughly twice the size of the Great Hall at Hogwarts. The chamber was completely empty, with nothing at all on the floor or walls, except for the numerous rows of torches. Harry could now clearly tell who it was that stepped through the door. He recognized the stooped gait and the walking stick, and he recognized the two hobgoblins that appeared in the doorway an instant after the first goblin entered. Harry managed to make it to his feet just as the elder goblin approached him.

"Good morning, Ragnok," greeted Harry evenly, trying not to let on exactly how injured he was. Unfortunately, the expanding stain of blood on his shirt was a dead giveaway to his true condition.

As Ragnok neared, he looked Harry over for only a moment, then turned to one of his bodyguards and said something in a rushed Gobbledygook. He turned back to Harry as the hobgoblin turned and quickly exited the room, "Greetings, Lord Potter. I have been expecting you, although not quite at this hour. I welcome you, nonetheless."

Harry was slightly taken aback at the goblin's placating demeanor. Everything he had ever learned about goblins, and his own experiences with them, told of arrogance and intolerance towards wizards. Although he detected a slight edge to Ragnok's nearly humble greeting, it was still a far cry from what he truly expected from the most influential goblin in the world, especially when he didn't have Kotone with him. For some reason he didn't quite understand, the goblins seemed to respect her. He honestly wasn't banking on their obvious esteem for her to work in his favor. He was somewhat glad she wasn't with him at the moment. While he did miss her terribly, he had no intention on using her presence as some source of bargaining chip in whatever they were to discuss. He was feeling bad enough about using their portkey to escape danger, and not for its intended purpose.

Truthfully, he was more concerned with where Kotone was, and about what was happening with Ron and Hermione. He assumed that Hermione had seen the encounter in Ollivanders, and he only hoped that she saw that he had left and wouldn't try to enter the shop to search for him… boggarts were nothing to mess around with, especially with the presence of those particular wards around the shop.

Harry realized that he was zoning out a bit and forced his mind back into his current situation, "I do apologize for showing up at this hour. I… umm…" He really couldn't think of a believable excuse for showing up at four in the morning, or for showing up in his current state of disrepair. He was saved from immediately giving a proper excuse when the large iron door opened and two goblins entered the chamber. Both of the goblins hurried across the room towards them, one was dressed in a suit of gleaming red armour with a shiny black insignia emblazoned on the breastplate and carried a vicious looking silver scimitar by his side. The other wore an odd yellow outfit that somewhat resembled a toga, but only draped an inch or so below the small goblin's torso. He was mildly surprised when the yellow-clad goblin spoke to Ragnok in a humorously high-pitched squeak. He then realized that that particular goblin was female… something he had never seen before.

The female goblin abruptly turned to him and flicked out her hand, causing Harry's legs to fall out from beneath him. He started for a moment before he realized he was sitting on a rather comfortable stool that she had conjured for him. She said not a word as she quickly and dutifully attended to his wounds as the armour-clad goblin spoke to Ragnok in what appeared to be an urgent tone, although Harry had no idea what was being said.

The armoured goblin was speaking quickly, all the while casting concerned glances towards Harry. Ragnok shook his head, but the other goblin spoke again, this time sounding slightly more urgent. Ragnok turned to look at Harry, and then back to the large iron door. The armoured goblin said one final, rushed phrase and Ragnok's eyes widened. He quickly nodded his head and dismissed the goblin with a wave of his hand. The goblin bowed and quickly rushed from the room, closing the massive iron door behind him.

As the goblin left, Harry caught another glimpse of what lay beyond the door. A shadow passed along the far wall outside of the door that was unmistakably in the shape of a dragon's head. He realized that he was probably inside one of the vaults far below Gringotts Bank.

When the massive door clanged shut, Ragnok turned back to Harry and said, "First off, on behalf of Gringott's Bank, I'd like to congratulate you once again on reaching your majority, and on the recent addition to your family. We were automatically notified of the adoption of Lady Oota, and we already have our brother branches in Asia in the process of 'collecting' the Oota family assets that were illegally seized. As of yesterday, Mistress Potter has been added to your family's account, and the automatic trust fund has already been placed in the same vault which, until recently, had been your own trust vault, Number 1073."

Ragnok saw Harry's face fall as he opened his mouth to protest, but quickly spoke to placate him, "Your former guardian no longer has access to the vault, so the funds placed within are quite secure. Also, as stated in the correspondence that was sent to you, you now have full access to the Potter Ancestral Vault Number 24."

As Ragnok was speaking, Harry reached into his bag and pulled out the messenger cylinder, the portkey that had just pulled his bacon out of the fire. He withdrew the parchment inside and scanned down the letter, "You mentioned a Vault Number 1122 in your letter, saying that it was nearing full capacity, but I'm afraid I didn't know about that vault at all…"

Ragnok looked at Harry curiously, "You didn't even know of this vault's existence?"

An annoyed sigh escaped Harry as he said, "Nobody ever told me! What's in that vault anyway, and why is it 'nearing capacity' if I'm not putting anything into it?"

"You must forgive me, Lord Potter. Your guardians commissioned that vault on your behalf, so we assumed that you knew of it. The vault was commissioned due to the number and nature of the gifts you were receiving. The monetary gifts have been kept in that vault to separate them from the main accounts, as since they are considered gifts and not taxable by the wizarding government."

"Wait, wait, wait…" said Harry as she shook his head in confusion, "What 'gifts' are you talking about?"

Ragnok's stare pierced through Harry as he answered, "Lord Potter, you have been the wizarding world's most loved, most celebrated figure for the past fifteen years. Even during the time where you were being slandered by the wizarding press, the vast majority of the wizarding populace was firmly behind you, although the recent untruths being spread about you and Mistress Potter are putting a strain on your loyal supporters."

Ragnok remained silent for a moment, looking as though he wanted to say more about that particular situation with Kotone, but he just continued, "Since nothing was allowed to be delivered to your residence in the muggle world, or, in the case of unknown origins, during your time at Hogwarts, Vault Number 1122 is where you have stored all of your owl correspondence that wasn't either official or from a known acquaintance, as well as all of the birthday, Halloween, Christmas, and Easter gifts that people have sent you. Of course, all of the items going into the vault have been screened, not that there was much that was sent to you that was dangerous…"

"We're in a vault right now, aren't we?" interrupted Harry as ge looked around at his surroundings.

"Yes," answered Ragnok, "This is Gringotts Highest Security Vault Number 2."

"Can you take me to that vault?" asked Harry anxiously, "Number 1122?"

"If you so desire. Once we have concluded our business, and Snapfinger here has finished tending to your wounds, you can visit each of your vaults."

Harry nodded while wincing through the female goblin's ministrations. She had already quickly and efficiently repaired the gash in his leg and was currently working on the puncture wound in his shoulder, the healing of which felt considerably more painful than had his leg.

"So, the letter mentioned that you wanted to discuss the state of my holdings?"

Ragnok gave him a toothy grin as he said, "Considering how little you actually know about your vaults, assets and investments, I will assume that you will require a detailed accounting of your holdings, as well as an explanation of your duties and responsibilities as Head of a pureblood wizarding family."

With barely a gesture, a large table appeared between Harry and Ragnok. A similar gesture created a large, comfortable chair, which the old goblin slowly sank in to. As if on cue, the massive iron door opened again and a pair of goblins entered, each carrying dozens of scrolls as they hurried up to the table where they carefully laid their burdens before scurrying back out through the door. At the same time, the female goblin had just put the final touches on his shoulder, finishing her task by carefully tying off the bandage that wrapped around his neck, around his shoulder and under his armpit.

Harry gave the female goblin a genuine smile and said to her, "Thank you very much, Snapfinger, it feels much…"

A look of shock came over the small goblin's face as she fell backwards onto the floor and emitted a terrified, high-pitched squeal. At the same moment, the rather large hobgoblin instantly drew his silver scimitar and was stepping towards Harry aggressively, only to be stopped with a quick gesture from Ragnok, who was looking rather angered at Harry, himself.

"What happened?" asked Harry as he looked between the menacing hobgoblin and Ragnok, "What did I do?"

Ragnok sighed and answered, "It is considered very rude for anyone other than another goblin to address one of our females, and we only speak to them to give them instructions or to initiate couplings. She was ordered to attend to your wounds, so no thanks are due to her," then Ragnok leaned forward and gave Harry what appeared to be a condescending smirk, "unless you were intending to mate with her?"

Harry turned to the cowering goblin on the floor and instinctively opened his mouth to apologize to her, but thankfully, Ragnok's words seemed to become clear to him… do not speak to goblin women. At the last moment he avoided another faux pas by turning to Ragnok and saying, "I'm terribly sorry, I had no way of knowing! I've never met a female goblin before… why doesn't anyone ever tell me these things?"

Ragnok looked hard at Harry for a few tense moments, but apparently believed that the young wizard meant no disrespect as he leaned back into his chair and said something to Snapfinger. The flustered goblin immediately scrambled from the floor and hastily exited the vault.

Ragnok continued to stare at Harry appraisingly, making Harry feel more than a little nervous. Had he just ruined whatever building trust he was forging with the goblins? He suddenly found himself wishing he had paid more attention during the History of Magic lessons, although he doubted that the classes covered anything about goblin customs.

The pregnant silence was broken when Ragnok softly said, "What else don't you know, Lord Potter? How little do you realize what the reactions are to your actions? Do you know anything of the series of events you have set into motion? Do you even know exactly what you have done by adopting an elderspawn into a wizard family… a pureblood wizard family, at that?"

Harry's abashed demeanor instantly fell, being replaced with a look of tired frustration, "Excuse me, sir… but as long as she can lift a wand, I'll consider her a witch, and being a witch entitles her to belong to a wizarding family, preferably one who will love her and take care of her. I don't see Kotone as an 'elderspawn,' or a 'half-breed,' or a 'demon,' 'monster,' 'animal' or anything… I see her as nothing other than a little girl who could use a bit of love in her miserable life, and trust me, I know a lot about what constitutes a miserable life! I love her, but more importantly, I know that she loves me, and that's bloody well good enough for me!"

Ragnok was once again staring thoughtfully back at Harry. After a few moments, he smiled and simply said, "That is good enough for me as well, Lord Potter. Let us get back to the task at hand."

Only when Harry sat back down on the stool did he realize that he had stood up as he was speaking. He then noticed that the female goblin took the time to also clean the blood from and repair the hole in his shirt. He began to carefully tug his shirt back on as Ragnok continued where he had left off. The elder goblin explained the state of each of Harry's investment holdings, paying particular attention to the businesses that had become stagnant due to his being underage and unable to attend to the responsibilities associated with the running of a company. Now that Harry was of age, he could delegate certain responsibilities to a manager or a proxy, but other duties and decisions had to be made by Harry, himself.

Ragnok produced a list of businesses that needed his personal attention and slid it across the table. Harry picked up the parchment and read along as Ragnok explained what needed to be done for each of the listed businesses. Harry's mind began to wander and his eyes seemed to glaze over at the amount of information that was being explained to him. His eyes suddenly widened as he noticed the name of one particular company on the list.

"I own the Grunning Drill Company?" exclaimed Harry with an angry yell as he once again stood from the stool, sending it clattering across the floor behind him, "I'm the one who has been paying that fat bastard's salary all of these years? He works for me?"

Although Harry was completely unaware that it was happening, his eyes began to shine with an electric blue glow, and a wave of raw, uncontrolled magic, similar to what had happened in his room at St. Mungos, was causing the piles of rolled up parchment to shift haphazardly around the tabletop. However, Ragnok and the hobgoblin certainly did notice. The hobgoblin bodyguard had his hand on the hilt of his scimitar while Ragnok covered the scrolls with his arms.

"Calm down, Lord Potter… now, by 'fat bastard' you mean…?" asked Ragnok with a slightly amused grin as Harry paced along the end of the table.

Harry took a shuddering breath, which did precious little for the tantrum his magic was throwing, "My uncle! The same fat, thieving git who took all of the money from my trust vault and then ran off and abandoned me! The same fat, thieving git who's been being paid from my parents' vault for all of these years to 'take care' of me… in the house that I actually owned! He was forever complaining that I was such a financial burden on his family while every single Pence he's ever laid his grubby hands on has come out of my pocket!"

Ragnok briefly shuffled through the pile of scrolls before pulling one out and unrolled it, "Ah, yes… Grunning's is one of the companies that you own in entirety. It's not the most profitable business that you own. It's been a steady investment, but recently there have been production problems, and we think there may be some 'skimming' by upper management, so it's one of the companies that need your personal attention. We should set up a meeting with their board relatively soon.

The vortex of magic that had been flowing around Harry abruptly stopped as he halted his pacing and turned to Ragnok, "Meet with their board? But I don't know anything about how to properly operate a business! What am I supposed to say to them?"

"That is why you have us, Lord Potter. We will have one of our representatives with you for each of your meetings, and we'll be sure to go over anything you need to know beforehand. When would you like us to begin making the necessary appointments?"

"Next week, I suppose, if that's all right?"

"Certainly," answered Ragnok as he jotted down a few notes, "We will deliver the schedule to you as soon as everything is arranged. Now, to continue… is there anything that you would like to do with your liquid assets?"

Harry wore a puzzled frown, "What do you mean?"

Ragnok was once again giving Harry the calculating, unblinking stare as he answered, "Lord Potter, you happen to be the single largest depositor in this or any other branch of Gringotts. You have a very large store of Galleons that is sitting in a vault collecting little more than dust. You have free access now that you are of age, and I daresay that you could buy virtually anything that you desire. As you are probably aware, gold that's stored in a vault cannot accrue interest from Gringotts unless we actually use the gold in the form of loans and investments, where you would get a percentage of the interest returns. Sadly, very, very few wizard families allow us to use their gold in this fashion… they are content to let the gold sit in their vaults rather than to trust a goblin to invest it for them. They rely solely on the returns of their own investments, if they invest at all."

"But why not?" asked Harry, "That's the way things work in muggle banks. The banks take the deposited money and use it for loans to others. Why would they refuse to let you use the gold, especially if it means a profit for them?"

"Because wizards do not trust goblins," came the simple answer, "We make our money more from the leases on the vaults, and the treasure expeditions that we commission, than we do from actual investments. It has been like this for centuries."

"So, this is the 'mutually beneficial' proposal you mentioned in the letter? I'm sorry, but you really didn't have to tell me all this to convince me to allow you access to my gold. Truthfully, I thought you were already using it, so be my guest."

It unnerved Harry every time Ragnok paused to stare at him, as if the elder goblin were trying to decide if he was actually telling him the truth. After more than a few moments under Ragnok's unblinking stare, the goblin finally said, "Perhaps you should wait until you've seen exactly how much gold is actually in your vault before you make that particular decision, but your display of confidence is truly a refreshing surprise. That, however, wasn't why I had asked if you wanted to do anything with your liquid assets. Is there any particular investment you wished to engage in? Is there anything you would like to buy? Is there anyone or any organization that you would like to give money to? Most wizards who inherit a large sum of gold tend to get a little carefree with their funds, so we would like to know if you are planning on making any substantial withdrawals in the near future."

Harry hadn't really thought about it. He knew he had quite a bit of money according to what Hermione had told him, but he really didn't consider using any of the money any time soon. He didn't need a house, or a new broom… he had enough money to feed himself, and enough to pay back what he had borrowed from Hermione and the Twins.

"Honestly? I can't think of anything I'd need that would be very expensive. All I'd need for now is enough to cover my living expenses and to repay a few debts. I never really wanted the money in the first place, and I'm sure you could invest it more effectively than I ever could… maybe at some point in the future, but as for now, I think its best if I…"

A memory came unbidden into Harry's mind. He was sitting on the broken cot inside of Kotone's room at Haversham's orphanage. He recalled the image he saw in the mirror, not so much Kotone's unmasked face, but the condition of her clothes and the room that she had lived in. He suddenly realized that she was still wearing that same ratty, gray nightgown that he found her in weeks before. Sure, it had been transfigured into more presentable clothing many times, but it was still the same worn-out nightgown that the orphanage had provided for her. He had fully intended on getting her new clothes… he had the money when they were in Diagon Alley, but he became distracted by the hunt for Voldemort's horcruxes and completely forgot about getting her more presentable clothing.

A wave of remorse hit him in his gut, but he had to admit to himself that clothing and possessions didn't matter at all while Voldemort was still a threat. He suddenly chuckled to himself as he realized the reason Kotone loved to run around naked… she hated the idea of being in those same, dirty clothes that had adorned her since the orphanage.

"There is something I'd like to spend some money on," Harry suddenly blurted out seriously, "I'd like to fund an orphanage for half-blood and muggleborn children. With the war the way it's been going, I'm sure there are lots of kids who have lost their families to Death Eaters, and I want to make damned sure that those kids don't end up in a muggle orphanage, or even worse, a place like Haversham's was!"

Ragnok looked truly surprised as he asked, "What do you know of Haversham's Home for the Unwanted?"

"I know enough to say that it wasn't a place suitable for children, if that's what you're asking!" answered Harry, not bothering to hide the spite he was feeling on the subject.

"But you must know that many wizarding businesses, including a few of the ones that you own, utilize the labor to make their products more competitive… for instance, the 'Fly By Knight' broomstick company, the makers of the Silver Arrow series of broomsticks, would have been completely out of business years ago if it weren't for the Workhouse Production Facility… I daresay that the company has been in turmoil since the Death Eater attack on the orphanage."

Harry's eyes narrowed, "What are you talking about?"

Ragnok let out a cackling laugh and asked, "Tell me, Lord Potter, how far behind the muggles would you say wizarding culture is?"

"I'm not entirely sure," answered Harry, not knowing how the cultural difference mattered to their conversation, "I'd think it's something like 150 years or so… probably similar to just before the muggle industrial revolution."

"So, do you know what orphanages in London were like 150 years ago?" asked Ragnok pointedly.

Harry's face fell into a hateful frown as he said, "Workhouses? Are you trying to tell me that the orphans at Haversham's were forced to work for wizarding businesses? Kotone and the rest of those kids were being used as slave labor?"

"That's exactly what I'm telling you, Lord Potter."

Harry was pacing once again, and once again an invisible wave of power rolled off of him as he said, "This is just… unbelievable… unacceptable! Is that why the building was in such a sorry state? Did the Ministry give anything at all for the upkeep? I'll bet they think that child slave labor is just fine and dandy, as long as it's not their precious pureblood ankle-biters that are being forced to work… 'automatically placed in another pureblood home,' my arse! …and will you please knock off that 'Lord' stuff? I'd prefer Harry, but I suppose Mr. Potter would do, if you must… that title means nothing to me."

'There's that stare again,' thought Harry as he met Ragnok's eyes once more. He wasn't sure, but he had thought for a moment that Ragnok was actually smiling at him during his tirade, but really couldn't tell. It took a few minutes for Harry to calm himself down to the point where things weren't flying around him. After a long, uncomfortable silence, Harry was quite surprised when the elder goblin suddenly asked, "What do you think of me, Lord Potter?"

Harry shifted on his feet for a few seconds as he considered what he was being asked. After a few moments, he realized that he was giving Ragnok the same, calculating stare that he had been receiving. He shrugged slightly and said, "This is only the second time that I've met you, but so far you've treated me better than a lot of wizards I've known… either they're falling over themselves trying to talk to 'The Boy Who Lived,' or they're staring at me like I'm some sort of barmy, self-centered snot. Of course, that's not including the Death Eaters… they believe its 'Potter Hunting Season' year 'round. You've shown me nothing but respect, and you seem to like Kotone, which is always a plus in my book…"

Ragnok seemed to nod to himself, and then asked, "What do you think of my goblins?"

Harry didn't pause as he said, "Well, I haven't had the opportunity to get to know many of you. You seem to be a hard working people with a 'no-nonsense' attitude. In my experience, most goblins come across a bit cold to most wizards, but I really can't blame you, considering the restrictions that have been placed on you… and the blatant mistrust wizards have for your people. Still, I haven't been treated with anything less than polite tolerance, which is more than most wizards deserve, if you ask me."

'There's the stare again…it feels like I'm on trial…'

A full minute passed before Ragnok spoke again, "The goblin nation is facing a very tough decision. It may not appear difficult, but there are factors afoot that muddy the big picture. You see, the Ministry has been very concerned that the goblin nation might side with the forces of Lord Voldemort, since we have already made it clear that we will not support the Ministry, and they seem convinced that we have no intention of staying neutral."

Harry was listening intently as Ragnok leaned forward and said, "Now, do you think the goblin nation would side with an organization who has shown nothing but mistrust, oppression and barely concealed intolerance, or do you think that we'd side with a group of bigoted, pureblooded wizards who would enjoy nothing more than to see the muggles and every non-human sentient race either subjugated worse than they already have been, or even worse, just slaughtered outright? To tell you the truth… Harry… neither choice is acceptable to us."

Harry narrowed his eyes as he said, "So, you're just going to sit back and see who wins, then step in and take on the weakened victors, no matter which side wins?"

Ragnok laughed as he said, "Heavens no! We have no delusions of grandeur, and we don't presume that we'd enjoy doing to the wizards what they've done to us for centuries. Our livelihood comes from wizards, and other than the 'restrictions' placed upon us, it has been an adequate arrangement."

"So, if you don't want to take over, and you don't want to help either side, what exactly are you going to do? Sit back, do nothing, and hope for the best?"

Ragnok grinned and leaned back in his chair, "What if I were to tell you that there was a third faction at work, and that the goblin Elder Council might decide to back that faction?"

Harry's brows knitted together as he tried to think of what group he could be talking about. His train of thought came to a screeching halt as the sound of the vault door being unlocked echoed throughout the chamber. He then saw the goblin who had unlocked the vault being pushed aside by a figure that was squeezing through the barely open door.

"Harry!" Hermione practically screamed as she ran across the vault and threw herself desperately into his arms.

"You have to believe me!" Hermione tearfully exclaimed, "I didn't kill her! It wasn't me! I was still with you outside of my body! Please!"

Although his vision was mostly obscured by Hermione's hair, Harry could just barely see Ron approaching the table, saying, "Hermione explained to me what she saw. She's right, mate. Her body was with me the entire time."

Harry was lightly rubbing Hermione's back as she sobbed onto his shoulder, "I know it wasn't you, Hermione… they were boggarts. I know you'd never do anything like that." Harry lifted Hermione's head from his shoulder and asked, "How did you even know that I was here?"

Once Hermione could speak again, she said through her sniffles, "Your trainer… Tonks' tracking spell is still on it. My wand pointed to the ground below Gringotts."

Ron, having not noticed exactly who it was that Harry was meeting with, excitedly said, "She was right mental after she 'woke up,' you know. I could barely keep up with her through the Alley, and when we got to Gringotts and the hobgoblins wouldn't let us in, she starts threatening to hex the ogres and telling them she would take the building apart stone by stone if they didn't let us in… I'll tell you, 'Mione here was bleedin' scary!"

Hermione's body visibly stiffened and her sniffling abruptly stopped. As she turned away from Harry, a serene smile appeared on her lips, but her reddened, steely eyes betrayed exactly how angry she had just become, "Excuse me, but what did you call me?"

The sickly sweet tone of Hermione's voice obviously didn't give Ron a clue as he replied with a smile, "'Mione…' I dunno, it just came out, and it does sound kinda cute…"

"Oh, yes… it's quite adorable, 'On… and fits me so well, don't you think? Oh, but I see that you haven't been properly introduced to the goblin chieftain!" Hermione turned to the elder goblin and said with a formal air, "Tribe Chief Ragnok, I'd like you to meet a good friend of Harry's, 'Onald Weas. 'On, this is Tribe Chieftain Ragnok, or would you just prefer to call him ''Gnok?'" Hermione's voice lowered dangerously as she said to Ron in a hiss, "but I would seriously advise against it."

"Oh, come on…" said Ron with a pained grimace, "alright, I get it! I'm sorry… I'll never call you that again!"

"You most certainly won't, 'Onald!"

"I said I was sorry!"

Ragnok seemed genuinely amused as he witnessed the banter between Ron and Hermione. Harry, however, seemed quite annoyed with their all-too-frequent bickering.

Speaking a bit louder than necessary, Harry turned to Ragnok and said, "So, what's this 'third faction' that you mentioned?"

Ragnok sat back in his chair and steepled his gnarly fingers under his chin, "The Elder Council has recently been keeping a close watch on this previously underestimated group. We believe that after the war, the leader of this faction will be in a position to greatly influence the wizarding world's leaders and policies… perhaps even enough to seize power from the Ministry for himself. The Council believes that if this comes to pass, it would most likely benefit the goblin nation, as well as most of the other sentient non-human factions."

At first, Harry thought he might have been talking about the muggles, or maybe the Order of the Phoenix, but as Ragnok spoke, he got the sneaking suspicion that he just might know exactly to whom the elder goblin was referring.

"You mean me, don't you?" asked Harry with no small amount of incredulity in his voice.

Ron didn't understand what was going on at all, but Hermione, even though she missed the beginning of the conversation, quickly deduced what Ragnok was talking about, and what he was offering to Harry.

Harry shook his head firmly as he said, "You can't be serious! What makes you think that I can influence anyone. I've been before the Wizengamot, and I see how they are… a bunch of self-centered, self-serving politicians who only listen when it benefits them personally… usually when there's money involved. I know for a fact that a known Death Eater was lining the Ministry's pockets for years…"

"Yes, that is true," said Ragnok knowingly as he rose from his chair and bid the group to follow him, "I am assuming that you speak of the Malfoy family patriarch. Much of the gold that was 'donated' went into influencing the decisions of the Wizengamot into enacting many of the recent laws that were created solely to restrict and oppress 'non-human' beings, as well as limiting the rights of their non-pureblood brethren." Ragnok said this while pointedly glancing at Hermione.

As Ragnok led the group through the vault door, he wore a strange smile as he continued speaking, "I can also tell you with certainty that, even after he was exposed as a Death Eater, his gold was still finding its way into certain wizards' pockets."

Ragnok then produced a roll of parchment and handed it to Harry. As they walked along the wide ledge past a series of large, widely spaced vault doors, Harry unrolled the parchment and read down a long list of names with a number next to each of them. His eyes visibly widened when he dropped the bottom spool of the scroll and watched it unfurl to bounce noisily on the floor at his feet, causing him to abruptly halt in his tracks. He quickly gathered up the long stream of parchment into his arms and continued walking.

"There aren't this many people in the Wizengamot!" exclaimed Harry as his eyes wandered across the vast list of names, hardly any of them he recognized.

"It's not just the Wizengamot who have been influenced. Among those names are Ministry officials, organizational leaders, owners and managers of wizarding businesses, members of the wizarding press… even to members of the International Confederation of Wizards. In the past twenty years, nearly one third of the Malfoy Family gold has been paid out in gifts and donations, and we have similar lists of other less wealthy Death Eaters and their sympathizers. An obscene amount of gold has been paid to a great many powerful witches and wizards for the sole purpose of undermining the rights of magical beings and anyone who doesn't belong to a pureblood wizard family. How do you think the general wizarding populace would react if this sort of information became public knowledge?"

"That's all fine and good… but really, what do you expect me to do with this information? With all the bad press about me in recent years, I don't think many people would believe me…"

"Harry," said Hermione to get his attention, "You do realize that almost ninety percent of the wizarding populace are either half-bloods or muggleborns… there are very few true pureblood families left. I think people would listen to you, regardless of what was said about you in the past, especially with information as important as this."

The group came to a stop at the end of the path that was running along the cart tracks, which disappeared into a steeply inclined tunnel. Harry looked at Ragnok curiously, wondering why they were led to an apparent dead end. The elder goblin just turned to the end of the wall and ran his finger along the rough surface. An opening in the wall immediately appeared, but it didn't look like a tunnel. It almost appeared that an arched opening was painted upon the wall.

Ragnok simply smiled and stepped into the opening he had just created. With a shrug, Harry walked up to the wall and followed the goblin. The feeling was similar to stepping through the barrier at King's Cross Station, but gave his stomach a slightly unpleasant lurch. He reappeared in another passage with a line of widely spaced vault doors. A moment later, Hermione stepped out of the opening and bumped into his back. Ron quickly followed, as well as the two hobgoblin bodyguards. The instant the last bodyguard came through, the opening silently disappeared.

Ragnok continued to walk down this new corridor as he spoke, "Your mate is correct. The actions taken by the followers of Tom Riddle have had a profound impact on the general wizarding population, although the changes have been so gradual and so subtle that most people do not know the extent to which their rights have been compromised."

"How can they 'not know?'" asked Harry.

Ragnok gave a tired shrug, "Ignorance… apathy… there are many reasons. As you know, all wizarding businesses are taxed, but did you know that those owned by half-bloods pay twice as much in taxes as pureblood owned businesses, and that the muggleborns pay twice that? And have you noticed that there are no businesses in Diagon Alley that are owned by muggleborns?"

Harry chanced a glance at Hermione and saw that she was fuming, although she was trying very hard to hide that fact. He also noticed that Ron had fallen a few paces behind and was looking quite embarrassed. He assumed that Ron was aware of these facts about wizarding businesses.

The group came to a stop in front of what appeared to be a very large vault. Harry looked up at the tarnished brass plate above the door that read '1122.'

"I don't have the key to this vault… it was never given to me," said Harry abashedly.

"The key was placed in your guardian's custody," informed Ragnok casually, "but I'd wager that he threw it into the Thames the first chance he got. In any case, I do not need a key." With barely a touch of Ragnok's finger, the large door creaked open.

Harry was told that the vault contained 'gifts' to him from an adoring wizarding public, and he assumed that the vault was the same size as the one that held his trust money. Nothing could have prepared him for what had met his eyes when the vault door swung fully open and the interior was illuminated.

Vault 1122 appeared to be roughly the same size as the one they had just left, but with one very profound difference. The vault he arrived in was completely empty while this vault was almost completely filled. Rows and rows of stacks of sealed boxes created a path leading from the vault door to the distant back wall. Every twenty feet or so, an opening between the stacks on either side of the path created walkways to the side walls.

As Ragnok led Harry into the vault, he pointed to each group of boxes and said, "These are the letters that have been sent to you over the years… on the left are the cards sent to you on your birthdays, Christmases, Halloweens… ah, this section holds the gifts that were sent to you, and behind those is the area where the gold that has been donated to you is stored… these boxes here hold the marriage proposals, and behind them are the adoption offers… over here are the condolence letters for…"

"Marriage proposals?" said Harry in surprise, "there are witches that I don't even know offering to marry me? Why are there so many of them?"

"Lord Potter, you have been receiving those since before you were even born," said Ragnok casually, "Of course, we have removed the proposals from those that have already married or are now deceased… oh, here's another one. You see, they turn red when a suitor has married someone else, and black if they have died."

Ragnok plucked a black envelope from the pile of proposals and read the name, "Oh, how sad… so young, too."

Unable to curb his curiosity, Ron leaned forward as if to read the envelope, "Oh? Who was that one from?"

Even in the short time they were there, several owls came swooping in through a series of holes high in the walls, each of them dropping letters, cards, and wrapped packages into their respective piles.

Ragnok glanced back to the envelope and said, "This was from the Greengrass family patriarch, offering the hand of his daughter, Daphne. Apparently, the witch died within the past few days."

"Daphne Greengrass?" said Ron and Hermione at the same time. They gave each other a nervous glance, having just seen the battered girl the previous week in the hospital wing at Hogwarts. Obviously, she didn't survive her injuries from the Death Eater attack on her family.

Harry didn't notice his friends' reactions, as he was watching the steady stream of owls fluttering overhead and asked, "Does this happen all the time?"

Hermione had to fight to keep from rolling her eyes as she said, "Of course not, Harry. Today's your birthday, so I gather that's the reason for so much activity." As Hermione said this an owl swooped by and dropped a parchment letter on the pile of marriage proposals. A slight scowl marred her features as she offhandedly commented, "…and as of today, you're a legal adult… I suspect that you'll be receiving quite a few more of those from now on."

Harry smiled knowingly as he casually slipped his hand into hers, which seemed to wipe the poorly concealed frown from her pretty face.

They spent a long time inspecting the various piles of boxes. Reading the labels affixed to each box, they had a fair idea of what the vault contained, although there was no way for them to discover everything that was in the multitude of containers. There were loads of various sized robes, cloaks and clothes, hundreds of wizard toys and games for a variety of ages,

Ragnok suddenly turned to face Harry and quietly said, "So, Lord Potter, do you still think that no one will listen to you? Do you still think that your words will fail to convince anyone of the truth? Do you still believe that no one would willingly follow you or support you if you were to decide to make the world a better place for all?"

Harry stared into Ragnok's black eyes for a long moment. Finally he said, "Okay, let's suppose you're right. Let's say that I can convince everyone of what's been happening in their government. Let's just suppose that, by some bizarre quirk of fate, I will have some influence on what the Ministry does in the future… what would you have me do? What do you expect from me?"

"I expect you to stop another war from starting," bellowed Ragnok loudly, causing the trio to start. Gone was the calm, placating demeanor that the elder goblin had displayed through their meeting up to this point, "We are weary, Lord Potter… the goblins are tired of being treated as animals! We have had enough of the unreasonable restrictions placed upon us! All we get are half-hearted assurances and platitudes, empty promises to improve out lot in the world, but each year we have more and more of our rights, our freedoms, stripped from us!"

Ragnok lowered his voice slightly as he said, "I know that in that school of yours they teach the history of magic. I also know that the syllabus is dictated by the Ministry, so I'm relatively confident that you have no idea what had really caused the last 'goblin wars,' as I believe you call them. We call them the wars for freedom, and I'm afraid that history is repeating itself. Many of the restrictions and limitations placed upon the goblin nation today were the very same reasons for the past wars. Many in the Elder Council have already called for war. Some have expressed the desire to do just as you earlier suggested… to wait for the end of your war and then strike out against the weakened victor and secure our freedom."

"How do you know that I won't be just as bad... just as corrupt as every other wizard politician you've dealt with?"

Ragnok gave his eerily toothy grin as he said, "That was the reason for our little chat this morning, Lord Po… Harry… I pride myself on being a fair judge of character, and you have been highly recommended to us as someone who is worthy of our trust."

Harry looked truly surprised as he asked, "Who recommended me, Dumbledore?"

Ragnok laughed, and then said with his toothy smile, "No, it was Lady Oota, of course… Oh, yes, she is Mistress Potter now, isn't she?"

Harry and Hermione shared a look before turning back to Ragnok to question him, but the elder goblin chose that moment to dismiss himself. As he headed for the door, the old goblin said, "Rest assured, Lord Potter, you have the support of the goblin nation in your current endeavor. When you need us most, we will be with you."

With that, Ragnok left the vault, leaving behind one of his bodyguards to escort the trio through the vaults. A few hours, and many 'Bloody Hell's' from Ron later, the trio found themselves being escorted out through the main door and into Diagon Alley, where they were met by the cold stares of the ogres aimed at Hermione.

As soon as they were out of sight from the bank's guards, Harry took each of their hands and the three disappeared from Diagon Alley in a blue flash of light, only to reappear a moment later on a dark, sandy beach. Although the sun had already risen in Britain, it was still a few hours before dawn on the island.

As Ron looked around at the lush surroundings of the island, Hermione saw Harry staring mournfully up at the darkened beach house. She knew he was thinking of Kotone. She gave his hand a comforting squeeze as she led him across the beach towards the front door. She still had her period, but she knew of other ways that would hopefully cheer him up. She had to make a few changes to the nursery room for a place for Ron to sleep… after all, she intended to take Harry's mind off of Kotone while up in the loft, and it wouldn't do to have their friend directly beneath them on the sofa.

-----~-----

The door to Gringotts Highest Security Vault Number One opened, and into the vault stepped the elder goblin, Ragnok. The old goblin sighed as he looked at the elderspawn seated in the middle of the vault and staring blankly ahead.

A few seconds later, her violet eyes blinked, and then focused on the aged being standing before her.

"You heard?" asked Ragnok.

"Yes."

"Then you know what is to come?"

"Yes."

"I assume you will want the Tenth Grenadiers?"

"No, I'm afraid I know what is to face… I need First Region."

Ragnok looked genuinely surprised, "The First Legion? Are you sure, Mistress Potter?"

"Yes," replied Kotone, "and it happens today. Prease to go prepare them… and ensure they armed with silver."

Ragnok presented Kotone with a polite bow before turning towards the door. Before it closed, he turned back to the sad child and sighed again.

As soon as the door had closed, the regal figure of Kyuushuu appeared before Kotone.

'Then you already know of the werewolves?'

'Yes.'

Kyuushuu's eyes briefly went out of focus as he looked down at Kotone. He could see the image of his daughter's soul. No longer did it appear as a towering figure, but as a small, wispy image that just barely fit into her small body. Kyuushuu smiled and said, 'I see that you have already prepared yourself.'

'Yes.'

Kyuushuu looked down into the young girl's sad, despairing eyes. He gave her a kind smile and said, 'You know it will be for the best, don't you?'

Kotone just nodded and said in a clipped tone, 'I must go to him now. I will come back as soon as it starts.'

Kyuushuu watched as Kotone's soul drifted lazily from her body, and then disappeared in a blink towards the southwest. Kyuushuu's smile faded as he said to the empty shell of his daughter, 'Do not worry, child. You will be happier this way.'

-----~-----

A/N: Fun Fact!: I planned on putting a scene with Vernon in this chapter, but it turned out MUCH longer than I planned, so *maybe* it will be in the next chapter… or maybe not… ^_^