Chapter 10 - The Bankers' Lament
Harry was slowly walking away from the Grangers, towards the reluctant presence of his aunt and uncle, when an idea struck him.
He turned away from his relatives and quickly took out the Hogsmeade slip Professor McGonagall had given him after the Leaving Feast.
He muttered a quick charm that appeared to change the contents of the document. It was the same spell that everyone in Hogwarts used in his old fifth year to cover the fact that they were reading The Quibbler.
His aunt and uncle, who were simply shell shocked on watching him talk with a girl and her parents, barely noticed what he just did.
Hermione, on the other hand, was walking away with her parents, when she turned around to give Harry one last wave. As she did so, she caught sight of him with his wand out, hurriedly muttering something to a piece of paper. Her eyes narrowed. She hadn't made a mention of it, but Harry seemed different to her in the last few days. She wasn't sure whether it was a good different or a bad different.
First, it was the signs he was showing her all of a sudden. They were.... encouraging signs, to say the least. Her heart gave a huge bound as she thought of the way she had flirted with him earlier. And it wasn't one-sided! He flirted with her too! Something he had never done before, which brought her back to the question of his change. He seemed much more mature, not to mention more powerful. The incident in the train with Malfoy certainly confirmed that.
He wasn't like this before she had gotten herself petrified... Something in Harry had changed in that time. The Harry she had known all this time and the Harry she was getting to know in the last few days were different, she decided.
'Maybe he wanted to change himself for me?' she thought, as she got into the back seat of the silver Mercedes her parents drove. An unfamiliar bolt of pleasure shot through her at the thought of that. A boy, willing to change his actions and behaviour, for her? A boy she was pretty sure she fancied nonetheless.
Hermione looked out of the window, beaming at nothing in particular.
After a while, her parents seemed to have caught her expression in the rear view mirror, for Jane asked, 'Why are you smiling Poppet?'
Hermione, who was initially about to rebuke her mother for the use of that nickname, chose to answer the question as that nickname was alright with her till Harry arrived. She did not need to have Harry hear her be called by such an embarassing term.
'Nothing, mum.'
'I suppose you don't have a problem with me calling you Poppet now, do you dear?' Jane asked with a knowing smile, eager to hear how her daughter was going to respond.
Hermione blushed. She muttered something incomprehensible.
'What was that dear?' Jane asked again, while Thomas shot his wife a clueless look.
'Not in front of my friends,' Hermione muttered, her face pink.
'Really?' Jane asked mockingly, 'I seem to remember that it was in front of only Harry when I hugged you and called you Poppet.'
'Well, Harry's my friend, mother,' Hermione replied, with the typical defiant, I-know-everything tone of teenagers.
'Are you sure he's just your friend, Poppet?' Jane asked, shooting her husband a sideways look.
Hermione rolled her eyes in response.
'Yes, mum,' Hermione intoned, 'for now.' She muttered the last part softly, not sure whether she wanted her parents to hear that or not.
Thomas' eyes widened and for a second he let go of the brakes, causing them to almost hit a turning vehicle. He managed to swerve away into the left lane and all three Grangers heaved a huge sigh of relief.
'Honey, Granger rule number sixteen! No talking about boys when daddy is involved in any high-risk operation which includes driving, shaving and skiing,' Jane immediately said, shaking her head.
'Not even a mention of boys,' Thomas muttered unhelpfully as he wiped the sweat from his brow at the near collision. Or maybe the sweat had accumulated when he heard Hermione mentioning the possibility of having a boyfriend. He wasn't sure.
Hermione rolled her eyes again.
'You started the topic mother!' she replied. 'And I don't remember any such rule!'
'Hermione, I think we should have a talk about this over dinner when we get home,' Jane said.
'What?! What's there to talk about?! Harry's just a fr-'
'I know honey. I have no problem if you suddenly decide you want to start dating. However, we both love your father and we don't want him to have a coronary, so we'll have to enlighten him.'
'I really love daddy and all that, but there's no chance of bringing him around when it comes to this topic. It'll be a futile attempt. Daddy's always going to remain lost when it comes to me and possible boyfriends,' Hermione said.
'Your father might not be able to admit it but he knows deep inside that you're not his precious baby girl anymore. He'll come around to our line of thinking at the end,' Jane persisted, and then with sudden inspiration she added, 'He is not lost yet, there is good in him. I've felt it. We can turn him back to our side. We have to at least try.'
Thomas, who until then was growing to be even more uncomfortable with the discussion, finally spoke, 'It is too late for that, so - er - daughter. I MUST obey my master.'
'And who is your master, sweetie?' Jane asked sweetly.
Thomas gulped nervously, knowing he was going to have to give his wife a satisfactory answer. Knowing that flattery was the best way out, he tried to reply very softly, in the hopes that his daughter wouldn't hear.
'You are of course, honey. I thought that was obvious. Especially after last ni-'
'MUM! DAD!' Hermione shrieked, clapping both her hands against her ears. She immediately dunked her head out the window, humming a John Williams tune loudly to dissolve any further comments from the two.
*
'What's that you've got there boy,' Vernon Dursley asked gruffly.
'It's a permission slip,' Harry answered carefully.
'Permission for what?' Uncle Vernon asked, snatching the paper from Harry's unresisting hands.
Harry watched as the three Dursleys huddled together over the parchment, each of their expressions going from disgusted curiosity to undiluted happiness at the idea of Harry leaving within two weeks.
'Excellent!' Uncle Vernon boomed and right there, on the platform itself, Petunia had miraculously fished out a pen from seemingly nowhere and given it to Vernon, who snatched it greedily and signed.
'Is that it boy? Two weeks and these... these... Slug Club people will take you away for summer studies?' Uncle Vernon asked, a gleeful expression on his beefy face.
'Yes Uncle Vernon,' Harry replied tiredly. He knew that his relatives couldn't seriously disrupt his life or torment him, but even then it did hurt a bit to not find acceptance from the only blood relatives he had.
'Well, take your trunk boy and let's get going,' said Vernon, before he led them out of the station.
Harry got into the back seat, squished to a corner as usual by the suffocating presence of his hefty cousin, Dudley.
After a minute of uncomfortable, tension-filled silence, Dudley chose to break it by giving Harry the usual taunt and abuse.
'So, did they beat you up right nice at school?' he sneered, looking at Harry as if he was something disgusting on the bottom of his shoe.
'You really don't have to fill in these silences, Dudley,' Harry replied drily, looking out the window.
Dudley scowled.
'Is it possible for you to leave by the end of this week boy?' Uncle Vernon growled, 'because we're having a special visitor next week.'
Harry groaned. He had landed up in the summer after his second year, which meant Aunt Marge was coming to visit again.
'I don't think that's possible, Uncle. You saw what you signed. Today's the second. I'll be leaving in two weeks.'
'Your Aunt Marge is coming two Fridays from now,' Uncle Vernon declared.
'Which is the day I'm leaving, more's the pity,' Harry muttered, but Uncle Vernon heard him.
'What's that boy!' he snarled.
'Nothing,' Harry gritted his teeth. He would've wanted to avoid the fat slob who he had once blown up in retaliation for her comparing his mother to a bitch.
With the majority of the rest of the journey passing in silence, a relieved Harry immediately went up to his bedroom and shut the door.
'Dobby!' he called.
Dobby appeared almost immediately, bowing low at Harry's feet.
'What can Dobby do for young Mas- Mr. Harry?' Dobby said, looking at Harry with utter devotion.
'Does it violate any wizarding law if you Apparate me out of here?' Harry asked, a plan forming in his mind.
'Dobby doesn't think so, sir,' Dobby replied, 'as long as no magic is being used.'
'Okay, can you take me to Gringotts please?' Harry asked.
'Certainly sir,' Dobby replied.
'Great, let's leave, actually no, hang on,' Harry said. He got a sudden idea. Taking his Invisibility Cloak out of his trunk, he stuffed it in his robes and turned to Dobby.
'Now let's go,' was all he said and the duo vanished in a flash.
Appearing on the bottom-most step of the elegant staircase leading up to the mighty structure of Gringotts, Harry took the stairs and just when he reached the magnificent doorway, he turned to see Dobby crawling behind him.
'Why are you crawling Dobby?' Harry asked, perplexed.
'All elves of the Ancient families are used to doing so, Harry Potter sir. In a public place like this bank, it must be known that the wizards are the great ones and have nasty elves crouching at their honourable feet,' Dobby replied, not looking at Harry as he said so.
'Well, you know what? I think that's rubbish,' Harry said in disgust, and now Dobby finally looked up at him.
'Is it an Azkaban-worthy crime if I fail to comply and have you walk beside me like the friend that you are?'
Dobby looked up at him in wonder before stuttering, 'N-N-No s-sir, it isn't.'
Harry grinned. 'Come on.'
They opened the doors and cautiously made their way in.
The guards at the entrance saw Harry and Harry wasn't sure if they recognised him, but they certainly were shocked at seeing an elf walk beside a human. An elf and a human, walking together like equals! No, the goblins were not used to that.
They attracted a few curious and shocked stares as they made their way to the nearest teller.
Clearing his throat loudly, Harry attracted the attention of the disinterseted looking goblin, who was poring over a thick sheaf of papers and muttering under his breath.
'What can I do for you, Mr.? The goblin asked, but then he completed his own inquiry ; recognising the famous lightning bolt scar that was just barely visible under Harry's long fringe.
'Potter,' he concluded.
Harry nodded wordlessly and the goblin's attention turned to the elf beside Harry.
The goblins were generally not used to being shocked, as they were wiser and more expecting than any bigoted wizards would ever believe them to be.
But the goblin's eyebrows went up to his patchy hairline as he took in the elf's features in wonder.
'What's the matter, Mr. Griphook?' Harry chuckled, 'surely you have seen an elf in your hallowed halls before?'
At that moment, Griphook came to a decision. It was abrupt by all means, for goblins did not like change and they did not like making decisions that would possibly bring about change. But Griphook, even though he was on the lower side of the hierarchy ladder at Gringotts, knew that he had to bring this man to the attention of the Chief Warlock of the Goblin Nation, Ragnok.
'Mr. Potter, please follow me. We would be most honoured if you would kindly deign to spend a few moments with our bank director,' he said, in a polite tone, at least as polite as a goblin could get.
Harry's eyebrows rose ; he wasn't expecting this. All he wanted was some money from his vault, a small discussion over the inheritance of his Invisibilty Cloak, and then a quick stop at Diagon Alley to buy a few useful things.
'Uh - sure,' Harry replied uncertainly, his last memory of these halls hitting him hard. It wasn't a pleasant memory. His hand was burning hot, he was on a dragon trying to escape after robbing one of the most secure vaults, coming under simultaneous fire from Death Eaters and Goblins.
He shuddered at that. That was one of the more darker days of his life.
'Please be seated, Mr. Potter,' Griphook said, and he was gone.
'Do you think they have a problem with me bringing you along?' Harry asked Dobby curiously.
'I'm sorry Master, but I don't know,' Dobby replied sadly.
Griphook came out a full ten minutes later, accompanied by a taller, more menacing goblin who simply introduced himself as Snagtail.
'Our Chief Warlock, His Excellency Lord Ragnok will see you now,' he hissed, before opening a set of hidden marble doors.
Harry walked in, Dobby following him. Both of them gasped as they took in the interiors of the office of the illustrious goblin chief. To say it was plush and luxurious would be an understatement.
Ragnok carefully scrutinised the newcomers. What Griphook told him seemed preposterous. A rich, prosperous wizard of the Ancient families walking in with an elf, remembering a junior teller's name and addressing him as if he was an equal, and praising the very halls of Gringotts, the heritage of goblins?
'Ah, Mr. Potter, have a seat, if you will,' Ragnok said coolly, not yet sure what to make of this young man.
Dobby on the other hand, was trembling. He knew he was in the presence of two beings who very possibly possessed staggering amounts of power : Ragnok, head of the Goblin clan and Harry Potter, Vanquisher of the Dark Lord.
His Master was a nice Master, unlike his previous one. But he knew he couldn't dare take a seat in the presence of his Master like this.
Dobby tried making himself as inconsequential as possible, slinking away unglamorously to a corner of the room, but Harry was having none of it.
'Come on, Dobby. They asked us to sit,' he said, and then he turned back to Ragnok after taking a last inspection of the glorious room they had just entered.
Ragnok exhaled. Apparently he was holding his breath so he could see for his own eyes how a powerful, rich wizard would treat someone usually viewed as filth by other wizards.
'It's a pleasure to meet you, Lord Ragnok,' Harry started off, not sure if shaking hands was appropriate.
'The pleasure is all mine, Lord Potter,' he replied briskly.
Harry's eyes widened on being called ''Lord''. 'Please call me Harry,' he said.
The goblin raised his eyebrows in surprise but he nodded in acceptance.
'Well, let me get straight down to business Harry,' Ragnok continued, 'frankly speaking, when you came in here with the simple intention of withdrawing an amount from your vault, we were stunned speechless, something that does not generally happen to goblins.'
'Why is that?'
'Never has such a thing happened before and nor will this be believed if reported.'
Harry didn't say anything but it was obvious that Ragnok had paused to allow his words to sink into Harry's mind.
'A rich, powerful wizard who is an heir of one of the Most Noble and Ancient families, walking in with his house elf proudly at his side. And then he identifies a junior goblin in this bank by name and treats him as an equal, not as a motherless dog as so many others do. And now he requests to be called by name, dropping any titles of power that he may wield,' Ragnok finished.
'By other motherless dogs, do you refer to people like the Malfoys?' Harry asked, quite sure what the answer was.
Ragnok grinned, and Harry saw that it was feral.
'The young scion once demanded that we address him as Lord Draco Malfoy or His Lordship and that we bow when we speak to him.'
Harry shook his head in disgust and then replied, 'So I presume you proceeded to show him the meaning of goblin hostility.'
At this, Ragnok lost the menacing, toothy grin he had been displaying.
'No, we had no choice but to comply with his request,' Ragnok replied, bitterness evident in his tone.
'WHAT?!' Harry roared, 'you did what?!!'
'What do you know of the famous Goblin rebellion of 1612?' Ragnok asked.
'Er...' Harry started off, trying to recollect something he had never learned properly in the first place. Hermione could have answered this with ease.
'You are starting your third year after this summer, am I correct?' Ragnok asked.
Harry nodded.
'Ah, then you might not have come across history in such depth just yet. Let me enlighten you. In 1612, after centuries of prejudice and mistreatment at the hands of wizards, the goblins rose up in revolt against their oppressors. Till then, the Ministry of Magic and the general contingent of wizards looked upon us with distrust and suspicion and they relegated to us the job of keeping and managing their gold. We had nothing else to occupy ourselves with and we had nowhere else to go, so we did as they wanted. Until then however, we could have walked away and made our own fortunes elsewhere if we so desired.
Yet, many goblins were upset at the inferior treatment meted out to them, despite helping the wizards by managing all their finances and businesses. The Goblin Petitions of 1596 and 1601 drafted by the then Chief Warlock of our clan proposed better living conditions and opportunities for goblins, to result in a harmonious world where goblins and wizards could walk side by side. But it was to no avail and did not appeal to the better sentiments of the Wizengamot and the Ministry. So, unwillingly, by a twenty seven to twenty four vote on the Royal Goblin Council, we went to war.
We started off by boycotting all the banks and we then established headquarters and regions of dominance in many areas of Britain.
Even though goblins have their own techniques and a unique branch of magic that they can truly call theirs, the wizards overpowered us and our rebellion was crushed. The fact that we unsuccessfully petitioned to have the right to use wands didn't help our cause either. Brutally outmatched by the might of the bigoted Ministry and the pureblood-laden Wizengamot, the remains of the Royal Council were humiliated and forcefully sworn into an oath of subservience to humans for all time. We were bound magically to look after their finances without any protest rising from future goblin generations. Our goblin infants were forcefully taken from the mothers and brainwashed into learning the superiority of wizards and the importance of serving them on bended knee.
Which is why we are on a timeless oath to the Ministry of Magic and its affiliates. Deep down, almost every goblin resents this, but we are doomed to their word, doomed to do whatever they order.'
Harry took in the goblin's recount sadly ; he had grasped some idea of goblin-human relations and goblin behaviour when he was in Shell Cottage, planning with Griphook.
However, Ragnok wasn't finished.
'Soon after our revolt was squashed, we were all captured and tortured and maimed. Only the lucky were killed. To enslave us to their purposes, only a few adults and children were left alive. Our numbers dwindled and the humans marched on, triumphant in their conquest and they enslaved all other non-humans to their cause. The Ministry of Magic, in 1631, banned all magical beings other than humans from carrying wands. Soon after, they drafted the Werewolf Code of Conduct to keep the werewolves in check. By that time, it was a curse to be born as anything other than a wizard or witch, pureblooded nonetheless.
Even three centuries later, the condition of goblins hasn't changed, save for a few exceptions, thanks to Albus Dumbledore.'
'Dumbledore?' Harry said, 'what did he do for you?'
'A couple of decades decades ago, as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, he managed to pass a decree that granted us leave to monitor our own affairs, followed by relaxation of a few of the existing rules that had been placed on us centuries ago.'
'He didn't try freeing you from the curse of the Ministry?'
'No, I heard of his attempts to do so, but the motion was crushed in the Wizengamot. Too many people enjoyed our status as slaves and didn't see the point in letting go of such a golden privilege.'
'The reason why we've summoned you in the first place is because we require a favour of you.'
'Go on,' Harry said, 'I don't know what I can possibly do to help, but I will try my best.'
Ragnok nodded approvingly. 'You are as modest as you are unpretentious, Harry. Now I know the goblins have made the right choice.'
Harry looked away ; he was not used to much praise.
'We wish to heap a title on you ; a status more like, something almost none have received in the past. We would be honoured if you would call yourself a Friend of the Goblin Nation.'
'I have no problem in being a friend to a great and honourable race such as yours, but what exactly does it entail? Surely it is not just a name?'
'No it is not Harry. By being a friend of the Goblin Nation, you have the full trust of goblins and you have an honorary place on the Royal Goblin Council. In the oldern days, such a role was an extreme honour and guarantee of power, but now sadly it has become a mercy of the wizard kind. Although it is composed of purely goblins, it has no real function except one.'
'And what is that?' Harry asked.
'You will swear secrecy?' Ragnok asked.
'Yes,' Harry replied without hesitation.
'In long words, we want more rights for goblins and pay tribute to those goblins who were purged in the aftermath of 1612. We just want freedom and the right to equality. We want the people who have oppressed us and dominated us for centuries to be brought to trial, under goblin law.'
'In shorter words, you want to overthrow the Ministry,' Harry gasped.
'No. I told you we just want more freedom, the right to use wands, have the responsible booked for their crimes against our kind. After that, we would like nothing more than to live in a peaceful world with all magical races co-existing harmoniously.'
'I agree with your goals and I accept your gracious offer,' Harry said in response.
'Thank you, but I am afraid we must shake to seal your acceptance,' Ragnok said, and a genuine smile was visible on his distorted face.
Harry did so, and a brief blast of blue light shot out from the goblin's hand hitting Harry square in the chest. He fell backwards for a second, winded. He then sat back straight to brush away the apology of Ragnok.
'We will contact you further about this topic, Harry. It would seem we have a lot to discuss and have a lot of action to take. For now, I presume you wish to be visiting your vault?'
'Yes, but there is something else I would like the goblins' input on.'
'Oh, and what may that be?' Ragnok queried.
'This,' Harry said, and he took his Invisibility Cloak out and handed it to Ragnok, who was staring at it in open-mouthed astonishment.
'The heir of Peverell? Impossible...' Ragnok trailed off, inspecting the silvery folds of the cloak.
After a moment, Ragnok asked, 'I am about to ask you two questions, to which I will require satisfactory answers. Following which, I will take a blood test and deposit it in the Peverell/Gryffindor vault.'
'Gryffindor? Ignotus is related to the line of Godric Gr-'
'Where lies the grave of Ignotus Peverell?' Ragnok interrupted.
'Uh - Godric's Hollow,' Harry replied.
'How is it that this cloak has come into your posession?' the goblin continued.
'It was passed on... by my father.'
'Am I right when I say that your parents, prior to their deaths, resided in the ancestral home of Godric's Hollow?'
'Er... yes,' Harry replied.
'Griphook!' Ragnok snapped, and Griphook immediately shuffled over.
'Please escort Mr. Potter and his elven friend to the vault.'
'The vault?' Griphook asked in confusion.
'The missing vault.'
Griphook's eyes widened in astonishment and he looked at Harry in what can be best described as awe.
'I have no doubt he is the heir, but take a blood test when you get there,' Ragnok ordered.
'What's all this about? What's so extraordinary about this?' Harry asked. So he was descended from the person who made the first Invisibility Cloak, a part of the Hallows. Big deal.
'You will find out, Harry. Just go to the vault. You'll understand.'
Harry shrugged his shoulders and made to leave but Ragnok stopped him.
'You may tell anyone who you wholeheartedly trust about your new relationship with the goblin nation, but I'd advise you to tell no one about this Invisibility Cloak and its significance.'
Harry shook hands with Ragnok, thanked him for his time, and followed the other goblin into the black depths of Gringotts, Dobby in tow.
AN - No H/Hr moments in this one, but trust me, you will be compensated in the coming chapters. Some important stuff regarding the overall plot of this story in this chapter and the next.
I presume you've all seen the new HBP trailer... I actually shivered in disgust when I saw Ginny saying, 'Take my hand,' and when Hermione cries because stupid Ron is kissing Lav-Lav. Not to mention when Ginny moves closer to kiss the Boy Who Lived. Yuck!
When I watch this in theatres, I'm going to forget about etiquette by booing loudly whenever there are any R/Hr, H/G moments. And if there happens to be any H/G fan in the vicinity, I'll be running the risk of getting arrested for slaughter.
Please, please make the rev. count total 300 with this chapter! Pretty please?