Chapter 42. Prepare for death not as for an enemy, but as for an old friend.
Once we had taken our seats and been served fragrant tea along with sweets, we began the negotiations.
"So, what exactly is your proposal, young Black?"
"We would like to offer, instead of payment in gold, to pay by means of certain services which, naturally, will be specified on site." As soon as we voiced this, the goblin's eyes gleamed greedily.
"Then please, speak."
"First of all, we want to commission two rapiers made of goblin silver. They must be inlaid with at least seven precious stones. Primarily either rock crystal or blue topaz — depending on the master's vision. We are certain that a blacksmith who has devoted his life to the forge can depict all this better than we can."
"…You, Mr Black, may not realise what you're asking for. Goblin weapons are not something you can simply buy and hang on your wall as part of a collection."
"Believe me, Mr Rustgrip, my sister and I intend to use these weapons for their intended purpose — in battle."
"Five hundred thousand Galleons. For both rapiers," Rustgrip proposed, and the proposal reeked of extortion.
"That price is clearly inflated."
"And do you have another place where you can obtain what you seek?" the goblin bared his teeth in a grin.
"Gringotts is not the only goblin clan in this world, and I hope that we will finally move on to constructive negotiations and you will stop your desperate attempts to swindle us, otherwise we will have to forget about today's deal." To be honest, we were really starting to get angry.
"Ahem, my apologies. So, a rapier of goblin silver with stones… I dare suppose they should be associated with ice or winter, hence the choice, correct?"
"Yes."
"Good. As is well known, our work is very durable, immune to corrosion, and once forged almost indestructible and capable of absorbing that which makes it stronger. You clearly want to turn them into artifacts related to ice. And for a price of 150,000 each we will personally see to it that these weapons are made as compatible as possible. Will that suit you?"
"Yes," this time we agreed.
"Excellent." From the final amount for the basilisk the goblin subtracted three hundred thousand. "This is not your only proposal, is it?"
"No. I need to find a couple of rare items." We took a short list from Regulus's breast pocket and passed it over under Dumbledore's intent gaze; after the mention of goblin weapons he'd been watching us in such a way that it was clear we would have a long conversation about risk and dark magic.
"Hmmm. Your requests, Mr Black, are far from simple. Let's go in order, shall we.
"The easiest one is the ice dragon's breath gland. That will cost one hundred Galleons. From there it gets more complicated. A wendigo core. Wendigos are rare creatures, and their very appearance is usually a tragedy. At the same time, laying such a monster to rest is no easy task either. Ten thousand Galleons. The heart of an arctic sea serpent. They dwell in the Weddell Sea and, due to the weather conditions, it is typically unlucky travellers that become the serpent's victims. Not every mercenary will agree to risk his life, and here you would need an entire squad of seasoned veterans. Fifteen thousand Galleons.
"But the last item… Mr Black. An ice phoenix egg… Are you serious?"
"Absolutely," Regulus nodded seriously.
"Do you understand how rare that is? Even getting an ordinary phoenix egg is problematic, and ice phoenixes are much rarer and more dangerous. They absorb the heat of their opponents so quickly that they leave no chance for resistance or survival. For such a task one would have to pay a great deal. So much that even those old fossils would wake from their slumber ready to act."
"How much?" was all we asked, already expecting that this would be very difficult.
"Two million at the very least. And even then you will have to wait."
"My boy, I advise you to think very carefully about whether you truly need this," Dumbledore suddenly spoke up, apparently no longer able to keep silent when the conversation turned to such an astronomical sum. "That is money that could secure a carefree future for many generations of your family."
"We've already thought it through. And you know, Professor, once we heard a simply marvellous phrase: 'For the well‑organized mind, death is but the next great adventure.' So why not begin preparing for that journey while still alive?"
"What wise words!" the goblin exclaimed, cutting off Dumbledore, who had been about to reply. "So, we're adding that to the list as well, yes? And I think we might even spare you the trouble of letting the blades absorb the power of these materials; we'll take care of that ourselves."
"I think that's fine, with the exception of the phoenix egg — we have our own plans for it."
"Truly, if the teacher has a phoenix, then the student must have one of his own," the goblin nodded knowingly, and we did not bother to dispel his misconception.
"So, to sum up. After deducting all services, you will receive… 144,900 Galleons. Does that satisfy you?"
"…," after hesitating a little, still feeling we'd been cheated, we nevertheless nodded. Fully aware that from the point of view of the family's interests we'd done something idiotic, but who said we were such dutiful heirs who put the family above all else? We had quite substantial proof that reincarnation was possible, and so, instead of thinking about the family, wasn't it far more interesting to take care of our own future? Especially when you're using money you earned with your own hands.
"Excellent then. Now, if you will wait a bit, I must step out to draw up the contract and obtain the approval of the head."
"Of course."
Soon only we and Dumbledore remained in the room.
"Children. What you're planning is very dangerous. Do you really think power is worth such risks?"
"Professor. Perhaps for us this is actually the least risky option, because if we use our gift correctly, we will be able to safely go through a method of trial and error without losing materials and without risking our lives. Besides, doesn't the idea of taking care of your next life seem interesting to you as well? Not leaving talent and the like to the mercy of fate, but building the foundation of your future development yourself. Not running from death like Voldemort, but meeting her at the appointed hour as an old friend, like the younger brother from the tale of the Deathly Hallows."
"…," as he listened to our words, Dumbledore's expression was complex. Yet what we certainly caught was that our words had touched the right strings deep in the old man's soul. After all, it was no accident that long ago he had been the best friend of a scarecrow far more terrifying than Voldemort. The friend of someone whose actions affected not only Britain, but the entire world.