Entertaining Golblins
DISCLAIMER: That part of this world and those characters you’ve seen before belong to their Creator: JKR. The rest is mine - although I cannot quit my day job as I make no $$$
A/N:
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE: ENTERTAINING GOBLINS
Monday, August 9 th 1993
Harry had been worried two mornings prior when the Families had arrived for a visit. He was worried because his parents would be with them that day. He was even more worried because Sirius would be as well. After all, aside from perhaps the younger Greengrass girls, the guests all believed that his parents were truly dead and buried. And no doubt they had read about the escape of the notorious mass murderer Sirius Black. He had no idea whether any of them believed that Sirius had done what the Ministry and Daily Prophet said he had done, but he was worried. His only solace was that the situation was now covered by the Fidelius Charm, or at least one of those charms. He did not know if the charm Hermione had cast was a modification of the existing one or a separate one. He was reasonably certain that it had worked. They had tried to tell the Grangers first about the Potters and more recently about Sirius and could not. Ginny, of course, did not have permission to reveal the Secret.
Still, from what Harry and the others understood, they could not know that the Charm had truly worked unless and until a person not privy to the secret encountered it. A house under the Charm was practically impossible to find and if you stumbled into it you would neither see it nor remember the encounter later. Once the guests arrived for the day, they were introduced first to Sirius Black. Despite his face being on the front page every day and plastered on windows and walls throughout magical Britain, the guests only confusion was that there was someone else who knew how to get into the trunk. Then the Potters were introduced and again, despite the contracts and old friendships, it was as if the guests were meeting the Potters for the first time. It was all Harry could do not to laugh when Ginny revealed the secrets. To say that their guests were stunned was an understatement. True, the Grangers already knew all about Sirius as they had been minor players in his capture so they were not at all surprised. But they were as stunned as the others when the secret about the Potters was revealed. Needless to say, aside from the younger Greengrass girls for whom all of this was boring adult stuff, the morning was spent explaining what had happened: how the Potters had survived and why Sirius was here at all when everyone knew he was out there hoping to find and kill one Harry Potter.
Harry was even more nervous about that afternoon. Mr. Granger and Mr. Greengrass had been threatening to take him out to play golf. While in France, Harry had spent most of the “down days,” the days when his girls could go home to visit their families, at various driving ranges with Mr. Granger learning to swing the clubs and while he felt he was getting to be okay at it, he was not foolish enough to believe this would be like Quidditch had been.
The five males on the estate had gone off to one of his courses to play. He had nine in total with five driving ranges. Three were located near the tropical beach. There was one each at The Stables, the Garden House, the Old Farm and in the Valley and there were two more courses near the Lake House. Harry had chosen the Three Course near the beach, although not which of the three they would play. Harry, Mr. Granger, Mr. Greengrass and his Dad would be playing. It turned out that James and Sirius each had a set of clubs that had been at clubhouse for the course in the Valley all this time. Mr. Granger had bought Harry a set of clubs for his birthday. Sirius played but was still recovering from his island holiday as he put it and felt it would be too much. He walked the course with Harry giving Harry advice and encouragement, not that it was always wanted or appreciated. While Harry was not sure who had “won” the game, he was certain who had finished dead last. Still, in an odd way it was fun and he even had a few shots here and there he was quite pleased with and which had impressed the others as well.
They received a reply from Gringotts about the planned meeting in the next day’s post. Gringotts was very prompt about such things. But there was an addition to his original plan of setting up meetings for his parents and Sirius. The Goblins reminded him that there were still a few things that needed his attention but which had been put off the last time he had been there. So he found himself stumbling out of the floo into the Lobby of the bank. Before him were the high wall like things behind which sat a score or more of goblins stamping forms and dealing with customers. He did not have to arrive here. His parents were flooing directly to their assigned conference room. He was here because Sirius wanted to make “an entrance.”
“Ah! Milord, it is good to see you,” a voice said. Harry turned and saw Grisha approaching. Some of the people turned and stared at him. He certainly did not miss that in France one bit. “How was your holiday, Sir?”
“We had a lovely time,” Harry said trying not to glare at the gawkers. “I particularly enjoyed not being stared at.” He said the last part very loudly and noticed several, but not all of the patrons look embarrassed and trying to look like they had not been caught.
“We have Conference Room Six set aside for our discussions, if you’ll follow me.”
“Grisha?” Harry whispered.
“Yes, Milord?” he whispered back.
“You are aware of the request I forwarded?”
“Indeed. Your party of two arrived directly in the assigned conference room by floo moments ago and are already getting settled. Very interesting that. But it’s of no concern to Gringotts and does not affect your portfolio and as such it is a mere talking point for dinner conversation as far as I’m concerned.”
“And my other one?”
“Most interesting. One would not have expected that. Then again, since your government can hardly be considered competent by our standards, I’m sure there’s a very, very interesting explanation. No offense.”
“None taken. The reason I ask is he wishes to make a grand entrance.”
“As long as he abides by our rules and laws, that’s his prerogative.”
Harry nodded. “But it might raise questions if he and I were to be seen in the same place…”
“Especially if bloodshed does not result, I take it?”
Harry nodded. “Still, I’d like to watch.”
After a moment, Grisha spoke. “We can set that up from the conference room. Do you know when he is to arrive?”
Harry consulted his watch. “‘Bout ten minutes.”
“Plenty of time. This way.”
He was led through some doors into a corridor and to what looked like a lift. The door opened and they got in. It was a very old style lift with an accordion like metal grating for a door rather than the solid ones currently used throughout the Muggle World. He could see the lift move and they were going up, but he could not feel it move at all.
“It’s charmed as part of a renovation,” Grisha explained. “You can’t sense the motion. We’re going to make the doors solid next. That way, we hope to make it more difficult for less savory customers to learn their way around. You may be aware of an incident a couple of years ago?”
Harry nodded as they stepped off into another corridor and he began to follow Grisha.
“We know who the thief was. He stunned his escort - a most egregious breach of our laws and of the Truce. Unfortunately, he did manage to escape us. Admittedly we would have be more diligent in our search had he succeeded in his apparent task. But it did point out… deficiencies… in our security which we are now trying to correct. Here we are.”
They entered a large conference room with curtains along one wall.
“When we got your request the other day, we figured you might find the events of this morning amusing. Hence this room. We usually do not transact business with patrons here. Knowing the other party, we suspected he might wish to… make a splash? And we figured you might well enjoy the spectacle. It should prove quite entertaining at least for those of us who know what may be coming. We are looking forward to that man’s Grand Entrance as much as you probably are.” He drew back the curtains and it was a window that looked out over the Lobby. “There’s a charm on it. Everyone down there sees a wall.”
“Brilliant!” Harry replied.
They did not have to wait long for the show to begin. Harry saw the large flash of green flame which was the Floo discharging a person. No one on the floor gave the person much notice at first. Harry thought it rather odd. After all, to create the greatest degree of pandemonium he had the elves transfigure an in expensive set of trousers and a shirt into a replica of his prison togs and had them “distressed:” torn and ripped in places as if by long wear. He looked gaunt and pale. What hurt his look was he was clean shaven and his hair was cut. The Sirius Black that had been caught by a charmed ham sandwich had hair down to his waist and a long beard and mustache. Those were gone and he had no interest in having them back ever even if it helped with his look.
Harry noticed a Goblin striding to the extent the short beings could stride straight towards Sirius.
“That’s Markash, also known as Slasher,” Grisha explained. “He manages the Black estate.”
“Milord Black? It is a pleasure seeing you again!” the Goblin said loudly.
“I regret I have been somewhat preoccupied with unrelated affairs for some time, Slasher,” Sirius said also loudly. Harry noticed that some of the customers were looking now.
A loud scream filled the bank. “IT’S HIM! IT’S SIRIUS BLACK!” More screams followed and many fled for the entrance. Coins seemed to fly everywhere. Harry noted that no one had drawn a wand. Sirius seemed to look around with a maniacal grin and more witches and wizards decided now was not a good time to be making deposits or withdrawals. He turned to follow Slasher to a conference room.
A spell came from nowhere. It missed Sirius and Slasher and anything else that was not the side of a Teller’s counter. Harry’s eyes sought the source and saw a short, plump and particularly ugly witch dressed in pink with a wand drawn clearly attempting to cast another spell. Something struck her wand arm and she dropped her wand looking furious. A moment later, she was surrounded by several Goblins with drawn swords. Two very large Goblins had grabbed her arms had pinned them behind her.
“Unhand me!” she demanded. “Do you have any idea who I am?”
“Your identity is one Dolores Jane Umbridge, witch, age fifty-seven,” a Goblin intoned. “You are in breach of the Truce…”
“I am Senior Undersecretary for the Ministry of Magic! That is an escaped convict and mass murderer! I am well within my rights and duties to take him into custody!”
“You are a witch in breach of the Truce. You’re statement of irrelevancies have no bearing on the matter,” the Goblin intoned.
“Irrelevancies?” she shrieked. “He’s a criminal! There are warrants for his arrest. Rewards for his capture,” she emphasized the rewards.
“Perhaps outside of Gringotts. He has no such things within our nation. You, however, stand in breach of the Truce…”
“I have done nothing which justifies this! When the Ministry hears…”
“We will be most chagrined if they do not give you the sack.”
“THE SACK? I am a Senior Undersecretary! I don’t have to listen to beings of less-than-human intelligence!”
“You drew a weapon and discharged it within our borders in violation of the Truce of 1715. The only criminal in this place is you!”
“You cannot accuse me!”
“And yet I have,” the Goblin said softly picking up her wand. “Is this your wand?”
“HAND THAT OVER! GOBLINS ARE NOT ALLOWED WANDS! EVERYONE KNOWS THAT!”
The Goblin snapped the wand in two and threw it in her face. “We have no need of your toys, witch!” Her mouth flapped, must she made no clear response. The Goblin then turned to a small group of Tellers nearby. “Confiscate all her vaults and all within. This witch is banned from all Gringotts banks for life.”
“WHAT?”
“We can be accommodating, witch,” the Goblin replied. “Be glad that we allow you to retain your head and life! Toss her out!”
Whatever it was she was screaming was incomprehensible as the goblins dragged her to the door and cast her out.
“Never liked that one,” Grisha said. “Even for a witch or wizard she was quite… difficult to stomach.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way about us,” Harry began.
“There are some of you whom we respect, Lord Potter. Your family has always been such people and you yourself are such a person. ‘Tis a pity many are more like that thing and not like you, Milord.”
“So, to business then?”
Grisha laughed. “I have enjoyed our meetings, Milord. But I’m certain today’s entertainment is not over and I don’t think you want to miss the finale. I’d rather not have our discussion interrupted by what will most likely happen in a few minutes.”
“What will happen?”
“She’ll run back to her… boss and we can expect an awkward response from the Ministry. How awkward depends upon who they send and who’s in charge. That witch definitely has made Lord Black’s visit today far more entertaining than we expected.”
“Oh?”
“Of course we expected the screams and scramble to get clear of this place. Probably made a small profit from it as well seeing as some dropped or left their money in their haste. If they leave without it either being on their person or in a cart headed to their vault, it’s considered abandoned and therefore property of the bank,” Grisha explained. “We’re certain to have some complaints providing us with at least a few more entertainments in the days ahead although I doubt any will be as entertaining as what just transpired. Naturally, when we scheduled the meeting for Lord Black we could not have anticipated that witch being present upon his arrival. It was most entertaining.”
“It was… um… that. But why do I think there’s more going on than I saw?”
“Because you are far brighter than that witch. She states that we Goblins have… how did she put it?… less than human intelligence? It’s not the first time she uttered that phrase in this bank in our presence. We generally do not respond to insults, but that does not mean we are unaware that we’ve been insulted. I fear for you humans if she represents your level of intelligence.”
“You and me both, Grisha.”
“Casting a spell within the bank is a Breach of the Truce. Had she cast it at a Goblin, it would be a causus belli.”
“Excuse me?”
“It would justify a war against magical Britain. That’s not to say there would be one, but your government would be expected to do something about it or look the other way if we did. Usually, they look the other way when we haul off the violator. We give them a few weeks to provide us with cause to turn over the offender and assurances that the offender will be dealt with. If they do not do so to our satisfaction, we add a head to our collection of trophies. Most often, they do not bother.”
“Pity she cast it at Sirius, then.”
“You are not offended?”
“No. What offends me is she tried to shoot him in the back and acted as if there was nothing wrong with that! Add to it she had plenty of time and still missed? She might’ve hit a customer! She might’ve hit a Goblin! She didn’t seem to care about that! I understand that most people have been tricked into believing he’s a murderer, but even that is low.”
“You are a most interesting wizard, Milord. Most would not have been concerned that her ineptitude might have harmed a Goblin. Ah - entre act!”
Harry did not know what that meant but turned and saw a crowd of official looking wizards and a few such witches entering the bank. In front was a man in a pinstriped suit wearing what Harry thought was a ridiculously looking green hat.
“The man in front is your Minister for Magic. There’s also the Head of Magical Law Enforcement - she’s the witch in the ladies' business attire with the monocle, the Head of International Cooperation ten Aurors and… this will be considered an insult no matter how it turns out!”
“Excuse me?”
“The man to the left of the Minister is the Head of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures! His attitude towards our nation is most… unfortunate.”
Harry watched. The Goblins in the Lobby were going about their business as if nothing unusual was happening. There were three customers at tellers' windows arguing with the tellers. Harry wondered if they were customers who had “abandoned” their gold earlier. They stopped when the Minister spoke.
“I demand to speak with Ragnock!” he bellowed.
“Who’s Ragnock?” Harry asked.
“It’s not an uncommon name in our culture,” Grisha said. “But I suppose he means the Ragnock. Ragnock XI is the leader of the Goblin Nation.”
“Will he come?”
“For this? Not likely. A minor thing. Course it could become a major one what with all those Aurors. In that case, he’d come. But he’d have perhaps five hundred or so warriors with him and it won’t go well for those Wizards…”
“There’s gonna be a fight?” Harry asked with trepidation.
“I sincerely doubt it. You’re Minister is not as bright as he thinks he is and is a fool, but even he’s not that much of a fool. Pity.”
“I DEMAND TO SEE RAGNOCK!” the Minister bellowed.
A large Goblin in a suit approached the Minister and gave a slight bow.
“I am Hardfang Restra, Leader of the Clans of Greater Britannia and Director of Gringotts London, Sir…”
“I demand to see Ragnock!” the Minister repeated.
“I see,” Hardfang replied. “Can you be more specific?”
“More specific?” the Minister sputtered in confusion.
“Ragnock is a very common name in our culture. Without an attendant family name, I cannot assume who you mean. There are some fifteen of that name working in some capacity at this branch.”
“Your Chief Goblin! Or whatever it is you call him! I demand to see your leader!”
“This is entirely unacceptable, Minister,” the Goblin replied. “There is a protocol that must be followed and I am aware that the initial steps have not been initiated.”
“What the bloody hell are you on about?”
“Pursuant to Article Seven, Chapter Sixteen of the Truce of 1715, there is a procedure by which the Leader of a Wizard Nation may arrange a meeting with the Leader of the Goblin Nation to discuss matters of mutual import. Walking into a Gringotts branch and demanding an audience with His August Highness is not in accordance with such procedure. Your government is expected to submit the appropriate request through channels proposing such a meeting and providing a proposed agenda for such meeting and after negotiations between the appropriate offices of each nation and final approval by yourself and His August Highness then and only then will such a meeting take place. You must understand that while there are some ninety-two separate Wizard nations, there is but one Goblin nation and but one leader of aforesaid nation. It would be impossible for him to ever be at the beck and call of any leader of one of your multitudinous nationalities.”
“Listen, you little turd,” the Head of Regulation and Control started, “we are not some lowly customers you can trifle with! The Minister demands your respect! And he will have it!”
The man drew a wand, but that was as far as he got. He gasped, eyes open with surprise and fell over. Harry saw that there was what was obviously an arrow protruding from his chest.
“We’ve been waiting for that opportunity for some years,” Grisha said.
“Confiscate that thing’s vault!” Hardfang ordered to the Tellers. “Minister? That is twice in less than an hour that one of your underlings has violated the Truce. Are you intent upon initiating a war with the Goblin Nation?”
The Minister visibly paled. The Head of Magical Law Enforcement whispered something in his ear. “N-no. But I expect an explanation. Was it necessary to shoot him?”
“He drew a wand without provocation against my person. You should consider yourself fortunate that only one arrow was loosed from its bow. I advise you to curb your arrogant and bellicose attitude regardless of what may have motivated it. I can assure you that each and every member of your entourage is covered by one of the archers of the Bank’s Security Forces. Perhaps you have forgotten that this is sovereign territory and your authority ended at the door? Now, to what do we owe this rude visit?”
Now it was the Head of International Cooperation who whispered something, causing a look of fear to pass over the Minister’s face.
“Perhaps I overreacted…”
“Perhaps,” Hardfang agreed.
“But you cannot deny your blatant disrespect towards a very important and senior member of my staff!”
“I assume you are speaking of one Witch Umbridge?”
“You know damned well about who I am talking about!”
“I believe we were most… diplomatic under the circumstances. It cannot be denied she drew her wand and cast a spell within the borders of our Nation in contravention of the Truce of 1715 and without there being a recognized exception to the prohibition. As she did not do so with obvious intent to harm a Goblin, her life was spared. As your colleague had far different intentions… that is why his lifeless corpse now stains the floor beneath our feet.”
Both of the subordinated then took turns whispering in the Minister’s ear and it was clear he did not like what he had been told but also knew there was nothing he could do about it.
“That still does not explain your harboring of a convicted mass murderer and escaped convict!” the Minister said.
“To whom are you referring?”
“You bloody well know who!”
“Many witches and wizards transact business with us each day. By harboring, you suggest this convict you mention has been here for some time and I can assure you such is not the case…”
“Sirius Black is here!”
“Ah yes. Lord Black. He has an appointment with his estate manager…”
“We want him!”
“I’m sure that you do…”
“Turn him over to us… NOW!”
“Once again, I refer you to the Truce. For reasons of business and profit, we do not respond to such requests outside of appropriate procedure and channels. Has your government prepared the appropriate Writ of Extradition?”
“What the bloody hell are you on about?”
“Pursuant to Article seventeen, Chapter Six of the Truce, to seek to extend your national authority into the Goblin Realm for the purpose of apprehending one of your people, you are expected and required to submit an application to our nation. Such application shall state clearly any and all reasons why you believe you should be allowed such interference with our business relationships and provide at the very least copies of all supporting documentation and evidence you believe justifies your request so that we may determine whether granting such request is in the best interests of our Nation as well.”
“He’s a killer!”
“The wizard in question does not stand accused of violating any of our laws, nor is there any reason to believe he poses a threat to our people. The fact that he has a penchant for killing wizards does not concern us.”
“FINE! How long do we have to wait?”
“It typically takes your government about two weeks to prepare an application…”
“WHAT?”
“The requirements are rather exacting, just as the requirements for us to seek extradition of a witch of wizard from your government are exacting. It takes time to prepare a complete application with adequate support that will not be turned back for further clarification.”
“But he will be long gone by then!”
“That is not our concern. Naturally, what you do beyond the walls of this Bank - so long as they do not interfere with the regular transaction of business - is not our concern. But a violation of our sovereignty and failure to honour both the letter and spirit of the Truce are another matter entirely.”
After some more whispering during which the Minister’s face turned a shade of red that reminded Harry disturbingly of his Uncle and then rapidly turned pale again.
“FINE!” the Minister said. “Madam Bones? Have your people deal with McFadden’s body.”
“I think not,” Hardfang began.
“Don’t tell me there’s another ruddy Truce provision covering that!” the Minister sputtered.
“As you wish, but there is. The body shall be dealt with by Gringotts. The next of kin will be advised at a later date as to whether the body shall be turned over and in what condition. All its personal effects save its wand shall likewise be retained here until a decision as to final disposition is made. You are free to recover said wand.”
“Thank you very much,” the Minister replied sarcastically. He bent down, picked up the wand and spun on his heel and left without a word. The others followed. It was silent within the bank as the group filed out. Harry noted there were a fair few customers present all of whom looked shocked at what had happened, if not terrified.
“Is that it?” Harry began.
“Garcor?” Hardfang ordered, “see to it that the necessary notifications and account of this morning’s incident are prepared and forwarded to the I.C.W. with Complaint to be lodged against the Government of Magical Britain…”
“Sir!” a Goblin replied.
“Terelnock? See to it that this mess is cleared off,” Hardfang further ordered clearly indicating he meant the dead wizard. With that Hardfang turned towards where Harry stood. Harry could see a wide grin on the Goblin’s face as he strode towards the part of the bank with the offices and such.
“Most entertaining!” Grisha said. “I have not seen such an amusement in years. Now, to business?”
“Bloody hell! I missed that?” Sirius exclaimed.
They had all returned to the Estate from Gringotts. Sirius had regaled everyone with his account of his Grand Entrance and the ejection of some “pink clad” Ministry “bint” who had tried to hex him in the back. He was not aware that Harry had a prime view of the event and was completely unaware that it was only half of the story.
“I guess that’s why Slasher left me with the vendors first. He probably wanted to see the fuss. Oh well.”
Sirius and his parents had purchased complete wardrobes, more than a few personal items and new wands, although aside from a few days worth of clothes and the personal items, most would be delivered through Gringotts in a few days or so as the wands were custom made - or at least they were being custom made. The Potters also managed to buy “baby things,” that would also be delivered later as they did not know for how long their secret would continue. Following the shopping which lasted until well after the incident with the Minister for Magic, the Potters had returned to the Estate while Sirius had spend a couple of hours with the Black Estate manager going over the Estate and taking up his position as Head of House. The last Head of House, his grandfather, passed away only a couple of years earlier.
“How can you be so excited?” Lily asked. “We came close to a war because of that fool!”
Sirius shrugged. “Close is not the same as actually starting a war. Besides, it’s not my fault that the idiot did what he did.”
“What’s going to happen?” Ginny asked after a moment of silence.
“The Director said something about a Complaint to the I.C.W.,” Harry said.
“That should shake things up,” Hannah said. “Bet a fair few of those who put Fudge in that position will be regretting it.”
“Could you explain that to those of us who know little about the inner workings of politics?” Ginny asked. “My Dad may work for the Ministry, but he really doesn’t tell us much about anything other than his own job and you must admit Binns is rubbish.”
“To most people, the worst that there’ll be is an official inquiry by the I.C.W.,” Hannah said. “The Minister will make and official if not public apology and that will seem to be the end of it.”
“At least until the Wizengamot gets involved, which it probably will,” Daphne added. When everyone but Hannah gave her a confused looks she explained. “Fudge was a compromise choice and before Bagnold retired no one would’ve put a knut on him as the next Minister. He was like a Deputy assistant Director of the Department of Regulation and Control and no one ever rose to Minister from that department directly. The two with any connection to that department were there very early in their careers before moving to a more politically advantageous one like International Cooperation or Law Enforcement. Even Wizengamot Administrative Services is considered a better place to be if one has ambitions to become Minister.
“After several months of deadlock, the Traditionalists advanced Fudge’s name - he is one, you know. Being the nonentity that he was could’ve been an advantage has he was never in a position to really make enemies on the Wizengamot. He holds his House Seat, but always had passed it off to a proxy and never publically appeared to influence that proxy’s vote so if the proxy annoyed fellow voters, they had no reason to link such annoyance to the true vote holder. Fudge was advanced as a candidate ‘cause every other Traditionalist had been quickly rejected by the rest of the Wizengamot. Fudge was harmless and was not rejected out of hand. Significant gold changed hands - "donations” to key charities of key members, and Fudge got elected."
“It helped that Dumbledore didn’t stand in the way,” Hannah observed.
“Probably felt Fudge would be so out of his depth he could be controlled, unlike every other non-Liberal advanced,” Daphne said. “Keeping that pet Minister in office will likely cost Malfoy far more than putting him in that office did.”
“Okay… how does Malfoy fit in?” Harry asked. “Not that I wouldn’t mind him taking it in his purse. He did try to kill me only a couple months ago, you know.”
“Who do you think made those donations?” Daphne said. “It’s the only way the upstart can hope to have any influence. He is an admitted Death Eater - though he claimed the Imperius Curse defense - which basically means no one other than a Traditionalist is likely to give him the time of day except for a hefty price. Add to it he’s French and that price is heftier.”
“French?” Harry asked. “You wouldn’t know it from Draco.”
“He wasn’t born there,” Daphne said. “It takes generations for a descendant of a Muggle Born to be considered a Pure-blood. Believe it or not it takes longer for the descendant of a French person to be considered British. Doesn’t help Malfoy Sr. that, while the Malfoy family has been here since the 1790’s, his father was the first one not to marry a French witch. He’s considered an immigrant as is his son.”
“Being an immigrant - even if you’d qualify as a pureblood under our traditions - you’re only marginally better off than being a Muggle Born,” Hannah said. “The only reason the Malfoys have any influence at all is money. There are a fair few who will overlook such things if there’s enough money at stake. I’m not saying any of that is right. It’s just the way things have been. As you know, to be considered a Pure-blood, you can’t have a Muggle Born ancestor within the last three prior generations. A Muggle Born great-grandparent makes you a half-blood no matter what your other lines are. It’s the same for immigrant decendants as they’re not considered fully British for some generations. But it’s worse for French ones.”
“Why?” several voices asked.
“For ages, France has been our natural enemy and adversary in the Wizarding World. We haven’t had a war with them in a long time, but we’re hardly friendly with them. Britain stayed out of the Grindelwald War for two reasons. First, that wizard had not made serious inroads here, although it may have helped he was part British to begin with. Second, the leader of the coalition against Grindelwald in Europe was France. We were not about to ally ourselves with the French unless we were under real threat and could not deal with it ourselves.”
“The point is that without money the Malfoys have little if no influence,” Daphne said. “He married well - Mr. Malfoy that is - but that family fell out of society at the end of the last war so that marriage no longer helps him.”
“His wife’s my Cousin Narcissa,” Sirius said. “The family she’s talking ‘bout is House Black. Her older sister is a real nutter. She’s a lunatic and cold blooded killer. Full on Death Eater, she is. Odd that…”
“Oh?”
“She wasn’t that way before she got married. I won’t say she would’ve been tight with Muggle Borns, but she was not openly hostile towards them. She got married to a real piece of work. Not long afterwards, they were Death Eaters and she was a particularly vicious one, one of the worst. There’s the Bellatrix I knew - that’s her name - and the one she became and they’re very, very different people.”
“Much as I love the thought that Malfoy isn’t the… power that he claims he is,” Hermione said, “what will happen? I mean, what’s going to happen as a result of Sirius’s visit to Gringotts”
“Mr. Malfoy’s lost what influence he ever had, once this gets out,” Daphne said. “It’s no secret he pretty much paid to put Fudge in that seat and regardless of what happens to Fudge, Malfoy’s ruined politically. He backed a brain dead horse and the political types will never forget that. Add a few generations to the Malfoy’s ambitions for real political clout.”
“It’ll be weeks before anything really happens,” Hannah continued. “The Ministry and Wizengamot won’t do a thing until the I.C.W. does something. Well, anything public. What happened today will probably make the papers, but most of them follow the Daily Prophet’s lead and the Prophet is the Ministry’s mouthpiece, meaning Fudge’s mouthpiece. We may gain an idea as to how things might develop with the story depending upon how the Prophet spins it and what they say and don’t say. My guess is for now they’ll blame it all on Mr. Black and the ignorance of the Goblins and such. Quietly - assuming Fudge has even half a brain - that witch that started it’ll get the sack. She’s been Fudge’s assistant for twenty years and has more enemies than anyone in government, so standing by her would ensure he gets shown the door as well. Most likely - assuming he gives her the sack - he’ll keep his job, but he’ll have lost his money man. Not saying Malfoy won’t try and buy their way out of this mess, but if there’s even a hint that Fudge is involved, the Wizengamot will oust him before you can say his name. Best case for Fudge, he keeps his seat but all his authority is lost and the Department Heads’ll be truly running things.”
“So your government is in shambles?” Mrs. Granger asked.
“Not yet,” Hannah said. “As I said, the real fun won’t begin until the I.C.W. does something and that’s weeks away. For now, a lot of people will be trying to protect themselves from any fallout. But, I don’t think the I.C.W.’s gonna let this pass without any international embarrassment and then…”
“Gotta hand it to you Padfoot,” James said. “All you had to do was walk through a bank lobby to bring an entire government to its knees.”
“What can I say?” Sirius said smuggle. “I’ve gone prankless for a dozen years. Had a lot to make up for.”
“Once a Marauder…”
“Always a Marauder…”
“I can’t believe you two!” Lily scolded. “Sirius damn near brings down the government and you two act as if it’s just another of your self-proclaimed brilliant pranks!”
“I hadn’t considered doing it that way,” Harry commented to just about everyone’s surprise.
“Do what what way?” Ginny asked.
“Bring down the government.”
“Harry,” his mother said, “you’re not serious, are you?”
“No, I’m Harry…”
“That joke’s so old it’s no longer funny,” James quipped.
“It was never funny!” Lily said.
“Yes it was!” Sirius protested.
“Fine! Maybe for you boys and maybe when you were eleven.”
“She has a point, Mate,” James said. “Pretty much beat that bludger one time too many long ago.”
“Thought I was being original,” Harry moped.
“Naw. It was an old joke,” Sirius said. “But having me go to Gringotts when the whole Wizarding World was after me? That was original. I’d’ve never thought of it.”
Harry shrugged. “The only hard part was really getting you there. The Goblins proved accommodating when they agreed to allow us direct access to their Floo system. I asked if that was possible and they said it was. Hannah told me that the Wizard Floo system could be monitored and a person can be pulled from it by the Ministry types so that was right out. Once I knew there was a safe and secure way to get you - and my parents - to and from Gringotts, that’s what needed to be done. You all needed wands and such and you, Sirius, needed to claim your inheritance. But, it was your idea to make the Grand Entrance that you did and that was what caused the current crisis for the Ministry - although I’d say you’ve made quite a few friends among the Goblins considering their love for the Ministry and total love for that Umbridge bint and McFadden. Grisha was almost gleeful when Umbridge got tossed - and I do mean tossed - out the door and that was nothing compared to when McFadden copped it. I could’ve asked for a sinful amount of money, no questions asked, and he might’ve given it to me. Instead all I got was…”
“This lousy T-shirt?” Robert Granger quipped.
“This,” Harry said. He showed them all a ring on his right forefinger.
“That makes it truly official then,” James said, “not that I’m complaining.”
“What is that?” Rose Granger asked.
“It’s the House Potter Signet Ring,” James replied. “All the Ancient families have one for their Heads of House. The ring can only be worn by the true Head of House. The magic is unassailable. It means Harry is Head of House Potter. And no, I’m not the least bit disappointed. Whatever fate or accident led to this, I thank it or them or whatever. Harry’s already one hell of a Head. Then again, with five lovely and smart ladies, why am I not surprised?”
“I didn’t want this,” Harry began.
“We’ve already discussed it. You know your mother and I stand by you. You are not alone in this at all.”
“I hope you will also help me…”
“Not much we can do until…”
“Being here, giving me advice, telling me when I’m about to make a mistake, that is a help. I have five lovely ladies, four destined to extend House Potter - should they ultimately choose to - but they were not in the last war. You two are eight years older than me and were and that will be a help - a help I did not have consistently in that other timeline. Sirius here was close, but it was only two years and even then we were separated and unable to communicate safely for much of that time. Oh my!”
“What?” several voices asked.
“Well, as Daphne and Hannah said, the full extent of what happened today cannot be known and won’t be for some time. But I’ve been thinking ‘bout what it could mean. First off, no déjà vu here. Either of you?” Harry ended looking at Hermione and Luna.
They shook their heads.
“So Sirius’s grand entrance did not happen last time or if it did we never learned about it,” Harry said. “In that memory uncap that led to nice doggie’s ham sandwich…”
“Can’t believe you caught me that way,” Sirius moped.
“I also remembered that there were two wizards that effectively prevented you from having any hope of true freedom. One was Dumbledore. I don’t know now if he knew you were innocent when you were sent off to that… place. I have no reason to say with any certainty that he did, but I would not be the least bit surprised if he did or at least suspected. What I can remember is after learning of your innocence from Hermione, Ron, this year’s DADA professor whose name eludes me for some reason, and I; he did nothing. Said no one would believe us and I believed him but he didn’t even try. Course he wouldn’t. If you had been free, you’d be my full on guardian and Dumbledore can’t have that. I admit Dumbledore did accept a letter from you as giving me permission to go into Hogsmeade, but that was about all that happened. It would’ve mucked up all his plans for my votes in the end to allow you to do more. So he made no effort to see you freed or given even a remote chance to challenge the Ministry’s accusations.
“The other man who ruined your life was the Minister himself. He’s the one whose posted a bounty on your head and has his Aurors out with orders to brings him your lifeless body and will be posting dementors at a school filled with children in the off chance they might kill you. Never mind that those things are a greater threat to the hundreds of students. What’s a few students compared to being the Minister who saw to the capture and demise of the notorious Sirius Black? Well, what happened today might not do much to Dumbledore, but Dumbledore’s scheme to keep you a prisoner of sorts relies on Fudge remaining in office and his ability to ignore the law and have you snuffed. If he loses his political seat or capital, we no longer have to worry ‘bout him, only the Head of Magical Law Enforcement…”
“That would be Madam Amelia Bones,” Hannah said.
“Really?” Harry asked.
“I thought it was Barty Crouch,” Sirius commented. “He was when I got chucked into the pit. Seeing as he’s not Minister…”
“No, it’s Bones.”
“She was with the Aurors back then,” James commented. “A little stiff, but she was one of the good guys. She’d be fair, unless she’s changed.”
“Crouch got pushed aside,” Hannah explained to Sirius. “It seems most people lost confidence in him when it came out that his son was a Death Eater and along with your Cousin, her husband and brother-in-law tortured Frank and Alice Longbottom. The Longbottoms’ve never been seen since although I don’t think they’re dead.”
“They’re alive,” Daphne said, “if you can call it that. They’re in the James Thickey Ward at St. Mungos.”
“Permanent Spell Damage?” Lily asked in shock.
Daphne shrugged. “My Mum’s sister worked there. Word is they went insane after being under the torture curse for hours. She says they’re practically mindless. Mrs. Longbottom being only slightly less so than her husband. She says it’s similar to someone who suffered from the Dementor’s Kiss.”
“The spell doesn’t do that!” Lily countered. “You can be tortured for days and one of two things happens: either you recover in a few weeks or you die. You don’t lose your mind. That’s what makes the spell so evil: you can’t hide from the pain. You can’t lose your mind. I can’t think of a spell that would leave you like that.”
“Well, there was nothing to indicate it was a dementor…”
“I can,” Sirius said.
“You can what?” Lily asked.
“Think of a spell that can do that. My family had a fair few family specials - spells only a Black could learn. They were nasty ones and that one sounds like one. I take it the Healers tried everything?”
“That’s my understanding,” Daphne said.
“The Black nasties can’t be countered unless you know the Black countercurse. They may be mostly fine, just trapped somehow and unless someone knows the specific curse used and specific countercurse, they’re stuck. If I could access the Black Library, I might be able to find out what might’ve been used… and its countercurse. Just hope it’s not will specific if it is a Black nasty.”
“Will specific?” Hermione asked.
“I was told a couple of the spells are what they called that. It means only the caster can counter it. There were debates as to what would happen if the caster died. Some suggested the spell would die with them and others that it could then never be countered. Not aware if they ever resolved that.”
“And as a Black, only you can access the properties,” James said. “That doesn’t help. Wouldn’t be surprised if the Ministry has people watching the area.”
“I have a meeting with Neville…”
“We have a meeting,” Luna corrected. “The invitation is to House Potter.”
“And that’s all of us,” Daphne added. “Even Hannah, Ginny and Sirius assuming you placed Sirius under House Protection…”
“I did,” Harry said.
“Neville’s never said anything ‘bout his parents,” Hermione said. “Not that I recall, has he?”
“No.”
“Maybe he doesn’t want people to know. Don’t ask me why he wouldn’t, but you know he is a very private person maybe even more so than you, Harry.”
“He could bring up Black nasties in response to what he’s been doing this summer,” Sirius suggested. “You know? Learning this and that and a bit about my family and the Blacks and oh! Those Blacks had some really nasty spells…”
“Might work. But assuming it was a Black nasty, we need to get you free to find out.”
“There are other ways…”
“I’d rather you get free. We concentrate on that first and look to other ways if freeing you will take too long. Back to this Bones lady.”
“If it goes as we think,” Hannah said, “Fudge may survive this but be rendered little more than a figurehead. Anyone promoted under his administration stands to lose and many will try to cut any ties with him. This means that any of his initiatives - such as his zealous pursuit of Black - will be career suicide for anyone to continue. Madam Bones is fair. Present her with what we know happened… She’d demand a proper trial even if she was the eyewitness and knew the person was guilty. I doubt she thinks highly of Fudge’s desire to kill first and ask questions later.”
Harry nodded. “We’ll have to wait and see. Bones? Any relation to…?”
“She’s Susan’s Aunt,” Hannah said. “She’s pretty much raised Susan after her husband and Susan’s parents were killed near the end of the War. Sirius is right. She’d be fair. Course that won’t help him if he’s guilty…”
“I’m not!”
“Are there any in our class unaffected by that war?”
“My immediate family,” Daphne offered and Ginny agreed.
“But you both lost relatives.”
They nodded.
“And Bones is an Ancient and Noble Line and Susan’s the last. Her Aunt is a Tyrell, a Bones by marriage,” Hannah added.
“Great! You’re not suggesting…?”
“She has a betrothal contract,” Hannah said. “She knows with whom. She has no problem with it. But it’s not you, Harry. When you first married, all contracts had to be forwarded to you. Aside from the five of us, has Gringotts or the Ministry advised you of any others?”
“I can assure you we never entered into such a contract with House Bones,” James said. “Nothing against them. House Abbott approached us and had House Bones done so we might have considered it, but they didn’t.”
“Thank goodness for that! Five is plenty.”
“So who’s the lucky bloke?” Harry asked.
“No idea. It’s a secret until she goes through with it. There may’ve been preconditions like ours, Harry. No sense in telling someone about a betrothal contract that might never come to pass, is there?”
“I suppose not. I wonder…?”
“What Harry?” Hermione asked.
“Maybe Neville married Susan?”
“Why do you say that?”
“Just ‘cause you married the lot of us,” Daphne added, “it doesn’t follow that Longbottom did.”
“He’s Lord Longbottom, right? That means he’s emancipated. I’m emancipated ‘cause I’m married. You all told me that’s how it works. If you can have a wife legally, you’re considered an adult as is the wife, right?”
“That’s right,” Daphne agreed. “But they’re other ways to become emancipated. A valid marriage is one that does not require a hearing or something. Maybe there was a hearing?”
“We’d’ve seen it in the paper I should think,” Luna commented. “The Prophet loves to print that sort of stuff.”
“And Witch Weekly and,” Ginny added, “well, Neville would be considered a catch of some sort. He is a Longbottom after all. Last of that Ancient and Noble Line. They’d’ve said something about someone like Neville being off the market…”
“Nothing’s been in the papers ‘bout us,” Hermione countered.
“We don’t know,” Lily interjected. “It’s best not to speculate about such things. I’m sure you lot will find out tomorrow.”