Part 2
The next days passed astonishingly quickly in Harry's mind. When he wasn't tending to Aunt Petunia's garden or Aunt Marge's guest room, he was out in the park taking walks and reading his books in the shade. Dobby dutifully supplied him with meals and snacks, going as far as outright rejecting Aunt Petunia's fare and telling Harry to just let his uncle and cousin have it.
The second goblin visit came and passed without much fanfare. Healer Bonepick made notes on Harry's progress, advised him to drink more of Dobby's lemonade and offered him a beginner's book on the goblins' art of potion making. It wasn't a lab, but it seemed like a promising overture. He also brought a pensieve and showed Harry how to watch memories and extracted one of his own to demonstrate, but left without doing more than that because of an emergency.
Meanwhile, Hedwig delivered Hermione's reply to Harry's letter. She had also enclosed his Charms essay. There were almost no corrections and she'd praised his flexible thinking more than once. For the rest of the night, Harry carried a happy glow with him and his late night snack of Florean Fortesque's strawberries tasted even sweeter.
Soon enough, the first week of treatment was over and Healer Spleenbash was set to arrive once again in the evening. As it was Monday, Aunt Marge appeared punctually on the Dursley's doorstep, her bulldog Ripper at her heel.
For the first fifteen minutes, the large woman made a lot of noise greeting Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, but especially so with Dudley. She squeezed and kissed him before finally sending him away with a twenty-pound note in his fat fist.
Then, her attention turned to Harry who, unsuccessfully, had tried to hide in the living room.
"You, Potter! Come here!" Marge imperiously waved him over. "Take my luggage upstairs, boy, and no shenanigans! I'll know! Then you can take Ripper for his walk."
Mulishly, Harry grabbed her suitcase and dragged it up, one step at a time. At least the heavy thumps of the thing against the stairs were satisfying, and not something Aunt Petunia could scold him for. Ripper yipped, obviously eager to renew the acquaintance.
Dobby was already waiting for Harry and lightened the suitcase with a snap of his fingers.
"Dobby be remembering evil Marge now. Dobby be having eye on her and evil little doggie."
"Thanks," Harry panted. "Let's get this over with. Only ... would you mind coming with me when I take Ripper for his walk? He, uh, likes to chase me. And he bites, but only me."
Dobby's nostrils flared. "Dobby will."
Ripper behaved well enough while other people were around, but as soon as Harry left Privet Drive and went towards the park, Ripper began to growl and crowd him.
"I'd let that if I were you," Harry told him sternly. "My friend is meaner than you."
Ripper was unimpressed and snapped after Harry's new trainers.
"Bad dog!" Harry jumped out of the way.
In that moment, an invisible hand swatted the dog on its head and it jumped around, looking for the source of the stinging pain. Not finding it, Ripper growled at Harry.
"No," Harry repeated. "Behave, or I'll have Dobby put you up in a tree."
He managed to drag the ill-tempered bulldog into the park where Ripper promptly peed against everything that was standing upright. It made Harry's month when he tried to piss on an old gentleman and got a sound whack with the walking cane for his trouble. Ripper was so dazed, he even forgot to growl and just whimpered pitifully.
"Your dog needs training, young man!" the old man bellowed. "During my time we'd have put such mongrels down!"
"I couldn't agree more, sir!" Harry called, laughing. "Sorry!"
For the rest of the walk, Ripper was subdued and Harry could almost pretend to walk a perfectly normal dog. He even generously stayed out ten minutes longer than he'd initially planned, just so he wouldn't have to be there when tea was served and be forced to endure Marge's diatribes.
Coming back late worked out great ... at least at first. Aunt Marge didn't even notice her darling's abnormally quiet behaviour as she was busy stuffing her mouth with cake and sandwiches. She did, however, remember Harry's existence and hollered after him, "Oh, oh, Potter! I've had your aunt put Ripper's bed in your room. Be sure not to disturb his beauty sleep tonight. The poor thing's been gassy all of last week."
Taking a deep breath, Harry counted to ten. He managed to climb up the stairs without stomping but took down Ripper's grubby dog bed from his own bed and dropped it with some force in front of the guest room.
"It's my room," he said angrily, "and I don't want him there. Dobby?"
Dobby appeared at once, eyes on the dog bed but ears turned attentively towards Harry.
"I'm sorry to ask this of you, but could you make sure that nobody can enter our room?" Harry ran both hands through his hair. "This is what I was talking about. She's so ... urgh. Always picking on me and pushing her stupid dog on me."
"Dobby be warding Harry Potter sir's room at once," Dobby said. "Should Dobby place a repelling charm?"
"Whatever gets them off our backs." Harry bit his lip. "That doesn't make me a bad person, right? It's not like I want to prank them. But there's so much going on with the goblins, and it's my holidays, and I just don't want to deal with Marge on top of all that."
"Dobby be trying to be satisfied with confounding evil muggles," Dobby retorted sullenly. "If Harry Potter sir be leaving it to Dobby, mean Marge be shipped to Timbuktu tomorrow."
That made Harry laugh and his bad mood evaporated. "Let's see how we get around her, first. I'd rather not get in trouble for making excessive sport of a muggle."
"For some muggles, there be no such thing as excessive sport." Dobby's scowl lifted and he bounced. "And now it be time for Harry Potter sir's afternoon snack. Would Harry Potter sir like afternoon tea? Dobby be making fantastic cucumber sandwiches."
Harry could never say no when Dobby offered food and he spent a great couple of hours in his blissfully silent room munching on scones and sandwiches and penning yet another letter to Hermione.
Dear Hermione,
I'm a little sad that you'll be leaving for France soon, because I don't think that Hedwig can make that trip very often. Maybe Dobby will be able to deliver letters; I'll have to ask him! Still, it'll be a little lonely with you being so far away. I'm also a little envious because I've never left Britain and would love to see the ocean. Will it be very hot where you're going? What will you eat? Do you speak French?
I'm almost halfway through the Arithmancy course book. It's still super interesting, so I'll send my letter to Professor McGonagall this week and ask her to drop Divination and add Arithmancy and Runes. I also found a book about ritual magic. Have you read anything about it, yet? If not, you should do it because it's rather fascinating and very different than anything we've been studying so far.
Have you heard from Ron, yet? I haven't gotten a single letter and I really could use the company. Not that your letters aren't great, of course! But I miss him and I'm beginning to think that something might have happened.
Anyway, I hope you'll have lots and lots of fun in France! You'll have to tell me all about it as soon as you're back. And if you still want to meet for ice cream, let me know. I think I know how we can make it happen.
Love, and greetings to your parents,
Harry
Likely knowing that this would be the last chance to deliver a letter for a while, Hedwig hopped onto the table and offered her leg as Harry folded and sealed the paper.
"Thanks, my girl." Harry gently stroked her breast feathers and smiled. "You've flown around a lot lately. Why don't you take a break when you're at Hermione's and see if she wants you to take a letter back? Dobby and I will manage for a short while."
Hedwig's churr was part amused and part sceptical, but most of all her affection shone through.
"No, really," Harry continued. "You could even go with them to France, I bet Hermione would love that."
Tilting her head, Hedwig seemed to ponder the offer. She then ruffled her feathers, pecked Harry's finger reproachfully and took off in one smooth beat of her wings.
"She be back tomorrow," Dobby predicted with a grin. "And Harry Potter sir be having visitors in half an hour."
"Oh! Is it that late already?" Harry haphazardly put his writing utensils away and closed the ink bottle. Out of habit, he sniffed himself. "Eugh, I should probably shower and change, I smell like Ripper."
Dobby could have cleaned Harry up with a snap of his clever little fingers, but Harry wanted to try out the shower in the trunk apartment and thus spent a blissful ten minutes under several powerful streams of lukewarm water.
Washed and clothed in new shorts and a fitting T-shirt, he then eagerly awaited Healer Spleenbash's arrival. She wasn't alone, however. With her came a withered, rather large goblin in an old-fashioned three-piece suit. He looked fierce with his pointy teeth and shrewd, yellow eyes.
"Heir Potter, may I introduce to you the Potter account manager Sharptooth. Sharptooth has taken care of the Potter holdings and assets for neigh on two centuries," she said after the costumary greetings were out of the way. "He is eager to make your acquaintance, so I'll leave you two to talk while I consult with your elf about your progress. Did you write your diary like Healer Bonepick told you?"
"Yes, of course. Dobby has everything set up for you."
"Very well." Spleenbash and Dobby retreated into the ritual room, leaving the study to Harry and the account manager.
"Er, which seat would you like?" Harry asked.
"Behind the desk will do, as the trunk is Gringotts' property," Sharptooth replied, though not unkindly. "Take a seat, Heir Potter. There's much to discuss and little time, so don't bother with refreshments."
"Alright then." Harry took the chair in front of the desk as asked and looked expectantly at the old goblin. "How can I help you?"
Sharptooth grinned broadly. "Exactly the question I wanted to hear, young Potter. As you know there'll be a lot of gold coming your way in the near future. I am here today to discuss what to do with that gold."
"Well, I thought we'd talk about the amount and then just dump it in my vault," Harry admitted. "I don't really know what to do with money, other than spending it on school things or food, and saving it."
"Fair enough," Sharptooth allowed. "That's why I'm here. I propose opening another vault for the basilisk gold in your name, and your name only. That way, it'll be independent from your trust vault and can only be accessed by you. This will serve you well in the future, even if you can't think of a reason why right now."
"That's fine, we'll do it that way," Harry said. "Er, not to be crass, but can you tell me how much gold it'll be?"
"Goblins don't think it crass to talk about money at all," Sharptooth informed him. "And I'll answer your question in a moment, but let us get the more important things out of the way first, yes?" At Harry's agreeable nod, the goblin continued, "Gringotts sent an envoy to Hogwarts to inform Headmaster Dumbledore of our intention to harvest the beast. He wasn't best pleased and stalled us for several days, although I have no idea why. Since the law is on our side, there's nothing he can do to stop the process. However, we ran into one serious complication ..."
"You can't get into the chamber," Harry guessed. "Sorry, I should have thought of that."
"It would be unwise to bring you personally to Hogwarts, but since you're a parselmouth, I was tasked to inquire whether you'd be amenable to train a snake to act in your stead."
"A snake?" Harry was gobsmacked. "Bloody hell, that's brilliant!"
Sharptooth grinned again. "We thought so, too." He reached into his pocket and took out a small green snake. "It's a Smooth Green Snake, native to North America. This particular fellow is without any magical abilities but he is inherently magic and interacts well with the magic in his environment. He is also able to comprehend a great deal. His sort make pleasant familiars for those so inclined. He belongs to our own breeding program and is one of our prized males."
"He's beautiful," Harry wispered. Without noticing, he slipped into parseltongue. "Hello there, I'm Harry. What's your name?"
The snake uncoiled and raised its tiny head. "Hello Speaker. I am Snake. Your eyes are pretty, like my scales."
"You're really very pretty," Harry agreed with a chuckle. "The goblins asked me to tell you a password to help them enter a hidden chamber. Will you help them?"
"I will. Tell me the word."
"Just tell the entrance to open." Harry reached out with a finger and smiled brightly when the small snake sought out the warmth of his skin. "Maybe ask for a proper way down since I don't know how fond they are of slides."
"Sounds easy enough," the snake hissed. "Well worth the mouse I'll get as a reward."
Harry stroked the glossy head. "Thank you."
"He has the password?" Sharptooth asked. At Harry's nod, he gently picked up the snake and let it glide into the inner pocket of his vest. "Thank you, Heir Potter. Now, you asked how much the basilisk is worth ... well, it largely depends on its size and the condition it's in. Since you told Chief Ragnok that it'll be in prime condition, Gringotts' first offer is a flat 1.200.000 galleons. It's not what the beast is likely worth, but we'll adjust the sum as soon as the team had a chance to assess it. I'll make sure to get you the best deal, of course. To do differently would be a stain on my honour."
Harry was stuck on the amount of gold Gringotts seemed to be prepared to dump on him. "That's a lot of gold," he said weakly.
"It is, but it is your due, Heir Potter. Never be ashamed to ask for what is yours."
"Right." Harry shook himself. "If it's really that much, can I transfer money to other people?"
"Of course. How much are we talking here?"
"The basilisk hurt a lot of my schoolmates and some of them were petrified for months and months," Harry said quietly. "I thought, maybe 10.000 galleons for each kid, and Mrs. Norris, the caretaker's cat, and another 10.000 for Hogwarts, since one of the ghosts kind of died again to protect a student. It won't give the lost time back, but maybe it helps a little."
"Yes, we can certainly do that. Do you want to open vaults for each of the children? I assume that the sum for Hogwarts can just go to their primary vault?"
"Yes, and yes. I want the kids to have full control, maybe keep it together until they're seventeen or something. I, uhm, I already wrote a list with the names." Harry fumbled the small piece of paper from his trouser pocket.
"Excellent, Heir Potter." Sharptooth looked the list over, scribbled several notes into a ledger and hummed quietly. "It will be done as soon as the details of the sale are finalized."
"Thank you." Harry fidgeted a little before gathering his courage and asking, "Er, can it maybe be done anonymously? Just give it over and leave it at that?"
Sharptooths bushy eyebrows rose. "Certainly, but I generally don't advise it. The parents would get suspicious, and rightly so, if there were absolutely no information forthcoming. They might think of it as hush money from Hogwarts or the Ministry and really start asking questions you don't want them to ask."
"Oh!" Harry chewed on his lower lip in thought. "What would you tell them, then?"
"General information should suffice, such as the reason for the money to be paid, and that the benefactor wishes to remain anonymous. There might be questions, yes, but the appearance of openness is sometimes all that's required. Additionally, for a small fee Gringotts can certainly arrange for a secrecy oath at the time of the vault transfer. It won't affect Muggles, but at least the wizard families would honour your wish for anonymity."
"I could deal with that, I think. Let's do it that way, then." Relaxing, Harry thought of another thing. "Can I add Dobby to the basilisk vault?"
"You can give your house elf access to any vault you are able to access yourself," Sharptooth confirmed. He made another note. "Before I leave today, I have another task on my agenda. Chief Ragnok has delayed the contract signing for the memory of your fight with the basilisk because Dumbledore has stalled the proceedings, but it would give Gringotts something to do while we get the business sorted out. Would you consent to allow Healer Spleenbash to assist with that?"
"I don't mind." Harry stood. "Right now?"
"I imagine that she and your elf Dobby will be done with their consultation now." Sharptooth stood as well and let Harry precede him into the foyer. "Yes, the door to the ritual room is open. Excellent."
Healer Spleenbash showed no surprise at Sharptooth's request. She asked Dobby for the slip of parchment, made note of the date of acquisition and then said, "Have you thought of the compensation yet, Heir Potter?"
"I'd really like to give ritual magic a try," Harry admitted. "If there's a way to arrange that, I'd be happy."
"I'll send Chief Ragnok word and get back to you as soon as may be. If he's not in a position to help with that, we'll revisit the issue. Now ..." Healer Spleenbash waddled over to the shelf and took down the pensieve. "Healer Bonepick showed you how this works. Please order your thoughts and try to remember the time in the Chamber of Secrets as clearly as you possibly can. Do it several times, if necessary. When you're confident that you've got all the important details, let me know and we'll extract the copy of the memory."
She led Harry through a couple of breathing exercises and then gently jogged his memory with questions. It took a while, but at last Harry felt confident enough to offer the memory and Healer Spleenbash extracted it with skillful fingers.
"See? This is your memory," she told Harry and pointed to a silvery, whispy substance in the pensieve bowl. "Now we have two options to view it and I'm sure Healer Bonepick explained them to you. Still, it won't hurt to go over it again."
Harry quickly agreed; the whole concept of watching memories still seemed unbelievable and, if he were honest, he trusted Healer Spleenbash more than he trusted Bonepick even though it made little sense.
"The first is the projection. The memory plays out much like a Muggle movie would. This is very practical for large crowds, especially in courts." She beckoned Harry closer. "The second option is full immersion. By putting your head right into the pensieve, you'll fall into the memory and relive it as a bystander. This is obviously a very intimate experience and should be reserved for special occasions. This feature gets a lot of use during criminal investigations because it allows the aurors to see details a witness might have subconsciously noticed but didn't mention because the information didn't have any value for them at the moment."
Fascinated, Harry followed the gentle movements of his memory. "Sounds really wicked. Can we try? I should probably check if there are mistakes before giving it to the chief, anyway."
"As your healer I have to ask: are you truly comfortable watching the memory that way? It is a vastly different experience than actually remembering it and the sights might be disturbing for you. Since you told us that neither the school nurse nor the headmaster offered you counselling, it's a concern. Setting back your recovery is not acceptable and if I have to protect you from yourself, I will."
"Then we start with the projection," Harry decided, "but I made a deal, and I want to do it right."
"Am I allowed to watch as well?" Sharptooth asked.
Harry nodded. "How do we start?"
Spleenbash cocked her head and grinned wickedly. "Do you have your wand?"
Before Harry could answer in the negative, Dobby pressed the wand into his hand and bounced a little. "Uh, I guess I do. Thanks, Dobby."
"Do you see the small rune sequence here?" Spleenbash pointed it out. "This one activates the projection. Try it."
"I'll get in trouble," Harry retorted, backing up a little. "Another black mark and they'll expel me from Hogwarts and snap my wand."
"Not in this trunk, you won't," Sharptooth replied rather smugly. "The trunk is a goblin dwelling and therefore your laws have no bearing here. Besides, it is shielded against the Ministry's little tracking charms. Do as Healer Spleenbash says. Try it."
Gulping but tempted beyond help, Harry carefully tapped the rune sequence and jerked back when a 3D projection appeared over the bowl. Apparently the healer had started pulling the memory when he and Ron had gone to get Lockhart. "Wow!" he blurted at the incredible detail of the scene. Then Harry heard indistinct talking. "It's even got sound!"
"It's a bit quiet. Tap here, twice should do it," Spleenbash instructed. Harry did and the volume went up. "Much better."
They all settled back and watched the events unfold. Healer Spleenbash made several notes but Sharptooth watched avidly without once taking his eyes away. When the moment came to open the entrance in the girls' bathroom, he leaned forward and growled under his breath. The snake skins at the bottom of the chute certainly got a reaction, but it paled in comparison to their outrage when Lockhart tried to obliviate the two boys and claim whatever commendations might be coming his way. His self-inflicted amnesia caused the goblins to cheer gutturally while the cave-in had them suck in their breath.
Finally memory-Harry stepped into the chamber proper. The details were sometimes a little fuzzy, but the important parts, like Ginny's lifeless form at the end of the chamber and Tom Riddle's self-important monologue, stood out in stark detail. When Riddle called forth the basilisk, both goblins were close to biting their claws off. The suspense was even killing Harry, and he'd already survived the whole thing.
"That beast is huge!" Healer Spleenbash screeched as the snake flowed from Salazar Slytherin's open mouth. "Was it really that huge?!"
"I don't know. I think so. But I'm small, so maybe it just appeared to be huge," Harry said, distracted by Fawkes timely appearance and the basilisks tortured thrashing as its eyes were ruined. Seeing it the second time made the phoenix's heroics even greater in his mind. "I'm really very glad Fawkes came and helped me. I should give him money too, although I have no idea what he could use it for."
"He would think of something, I'm sure," Sharptooth snarled. "Now hush, the wretched Dark Lordling is talking again!"
It was hard for Harry to see himself first run from the huge snake and then kill it with Gryffindor's sword, getting stabbed in the elbow by a huge tooth in return. Healer Spleenbash had been exactly right to warn him, he thought, as he suddenly became lightheaded and the edge of his vision whited out a little.
Dobby caught him and lowered him into a promptly conjured chair and still Harry's gaze was glued to the projection. After the terror of seeing himself almost dying it was immeasurably satisfying to see memory-Harry stabbing the cursed diary, thereby ending the existence of Tom Riddle's shade. The following relief of having Fawkes sitting in his lap and crying onto the bite wound was the complete reverse of the horror he'd just suffered. As he'd been nearly delirious after the whole experience, the whole chamber had taken on an almost otherwordly glow. Fawkes especially seemed like an angel, shimmering with all the colours of the rainbow and sounding like the most beautiful creature imaginable.
"That basilisk venom obviously packed a punch," Sharptooth said dryly when the memory ended shortly after. He put his gnarled paw onto Harry's shoulder. "Well done, youngling."
The small green snake poked its head out of the goblin's vest and hissed, "You killed the King of Snakes?"
"I had to," Harry hissed back, a little shamed when faced with the basilisk's little relative. "I'm sorry, but it wanted to kill me first."
"You needn't be sorry, Speaker. The King was old and mad. You ended his suffering." Snake wound himself around Harry's shaking fingers and flicked his knuckles with his tongue.
"Uhm ..." Harry cleared his throat and carefully wiped his damp eyes. "I think that's more or less what happened, but I can try again if it's too ... wobbly."
"This memory will suffice," Healer Spleenbash said and sounded remarkably calm. "For today you have suffered enough. With your permission, however, I'd like to schedule weekly appointments with a mind healer. It's obvious that you need someone to talk about what happened, and other things besides if I'm guessing correctly. The next time I'm here, I'll show you several files and you can decide who you'd like to meet. If you don't like that someone, we'll try again."
Harry didn't know how he felt about that, but as he was still rather shaken he just nodded.
"That went a little sideways, eh, lad?" Sharptooth said, squeezed Harry's shoulder and then released him. "How about we finish for the day and you get a good dose of sunshine and a special treat from your Dobby?"
"Dobby be having the perfect treat!" the elf boasted. "Dobby be taking care of Harry Potter sir."
The goblins departed immediately, with Snake hissing a little goodbye out of Sharptooth's pocket, and then Dobby whisked Harry away to a sunny, secluded spot in the park where he treated him to a delicious chocolate brownie, vanilla ice cream and his favourite lemonade.
oOo
Another two days later Healer Spleenbash and two goblin warriors arrived in the trunk's fireplace. Harry was grateful because his relatives and especially Aunt Marge had been a complete nightmare. Not satisfied to have Harry go out of his way to avoid them all, Uncle Vernon had tried to bash in his door and even rip away the bars in front of his window. Only the curious neighbours and the team of judges for the garden competition had kept him in check ... mostly. Harry just knew that there'd be hell to pay if one of them ever got their hands on him.
"Greetings, Heir Potter," Healer Spleenbash said. "Chief Ragnok requests your presence in Gringotts and asks that you not tarry. Your elf may accompany you, of course. Our business shall not take more than two hours."
Harry exchanged a worried look with Dobby. "Is everything alright?"
"As you wizards like to say: just peachy. Please follow along, now." Spleenbash gestured for the first guard to go back to Gringotts. "Watch closely so you won't get lost in the Floo network."
"Gringotts, The Chief's Antechamber!" the guard shouted. He stepped into the roaring flames and vanished swiftly.
"Now you," Healer Spleenbash instructed. "Speak loudly and clearly. The guard will grab you and pull you out, so don't panic. Ready?"
"No," Harry replied, which made the goblin grin toothily. "Gringotts, The Chief's Antechamber!"
He stepped into the oddly lukewarm fire and was sucked away with the power of a hundred vacuum cleaners. Other fireplaces whirled by as Harry rushed through the Floo network and he could catch glimpses of many empty Floo chambers. They all appeared to be in the same style and he guessed that they all belonged to Gringotts.
Then, suddenly, two clawed hands shot into the green inferno, grabbed him by the ankles and pulled him out of the next fireplace. Before Harry could even squeak, the goblin had already set him on his feet and cleaned up the soot on his face and clothes.
"Alright, Heir Potter?" the guard asked.
"Yeah, I'm good," Harry replied. "Great ride, although not as great as your carts."
The guard's teeth showed as he grinned. "I agree."
Just then Healer Spleenbash, the second guard, and Dobby appeared in the chamber. After looking Harry over critically and letting another cleaning charm wash over him, Healer Spleenbash ordered the guards to announce them to Chief Ragnok, which they did with great acclarity.
"Welcome, Heir Potter!" Ragnok boomed as soon as the announcement was made. He hopped down from his massive, golden chair and met them halfway in his office. At least Harry supposed that it was his office, although it might have easily been the throne room, just with a huge, ornate desk between the throne and possible visitors. The decorations and pictures on the walls were breathtaking and Harry had to force himself not to stare too long. As it was, he almost missed the two dozen goblins, among them Sharptooth, and the handful of wizards and witches in festive robes that were standing at attention close to the palatial wall. "Please come, we have much to do."
Instead of retreating behind his desk, Ragnok led Harry towards an ornamental circle on the polished marble floor. He then gestured for Healer Spleenbash and Dobby to join the ranks of the guests. The guards retreated to the door but kept it open.
"Thank you for agreeing to accompany Healer Spleenbash tonight," Ragnok said. "If you haven't guessed the reason already, I'll make it short: we got into the Chamber of Secrets and have begun to harvest the remains of the basilisk." His shrewd eyes were firm on Harry's face. In the silence, a pin drop could've been heard. "As I have seen your memory, and led the team that discovered the carcass, let me be the first to congratulate you on your achievement. Not a one of my men is confident that they could've walked away from this fight without significant injury, even with the assistance Dumbledore's phoenix offered, and especially not at your age and level of training. To further honour Gringotts, it was indeed all done using one of our own greatest blades, the Sword of Gryffindor. Well done, youngling. Gringotts holds your success , and therefore you, in high esteem."
He offered his bejewelled hand and Harry shook it, not knowing what else to do. To his right, the attendees began to roar and hammered ceremonial daggers against small, richly adorned shields.
"I welcome you, Heir Potter, as a Friend To The Nation!" Ragnok shouted over the noise. "All that Gringotts has to offer is yours for the asking, as we hope to be able to ask you for assistance if the need arises."
This declaration was met with abrupt silence, but it was oddly this that kept Harry from freezing. He had read about the rare honour in the book Dobby had brought from Gringotts and remembered the traditional phrase because it had struck a chord in him.
"As Gringotts' wealth is my wealth, my wand is Gringotts' wand," he said, raising said wand. "May we always agree in matters of life and profit and may our enemies rue the day they provoced our wrath."
"So mote it be," Ragnok intoned solemnly.
A golden light streamed from the tip of Harry's wand. It heaved around the chief and himself, spreading out more and more until the whole, vast chamber was filled with it. Then it slowly receded, found an empty space on the wall and began forming colours and shapes. A seal appeared, around which a large basilisk coiled. Harry had a feeling that it was his family's seal and it made his throat close up.
"The Nation has accepted your vow of friendship, Heir Potter," Ragnok boomed. "Welcome, Friend. You and everything you hold dear will be safe in our halls."
Harry bowed deeply. "My gratitude can't be measured in gold and precious stones, Chief Ragnok."
Again, the witnesses cheered, Dobby among the loudest.
Pleased, Ragnok lightly touched Harry's shoulder. "Well done, youngling. Now that the official part is over, let's get down to business." He rubbed his hands together as he ushered Harry to the sofas and bade him to sit. Around them, the guests to the brief ceremony headed for the door, no doubt to spread the news. "I love this part. Negotiating and deciding, knowing that whatever you have in mind will happen, the flow of gold all around you ... it's the best kind of ecstasy."
"Then you'll have lots of ideas what to do with the basilisk money?" Harry asked.
Ragnok laughed loudly. "Of course, I do! But first things first: the amount still needs to be settled, and for that you'll need your account manager, youngling. Friend To The Nation or no, it just won't do for the heir of a noble and ancient wizard house to negotiate without their manager. You see, they earn their fortune through you - if your wealth rises, so does theirs. Come, Sharptooth, and you also, Healer Spleenbash. Both your expertise will be required tonight."
"And Dobby?" Harry asked. "He's my friend, I don't want him to have to wait at the door for hours."
"No, of course not. Come, Dobby. Your place is next to your wizard. Guards, close the doors!"
Quivering with excitement and gratitude, the elf climbed onto the sofa and sat as close to Harry as possible.
"As I said, first things first. The basilisk!" Ragnok's roar made Harry jump a little while Sharptooth and Healer Spleenbash smirked. "Where is the contract, Sharptooth?"
Sharptooth opened a folder and unrolled a lenghty scroll on the table. "Here it is, Chief. What will you offer our friend for the carcass of the beast?"
Ragnok produced his own scroll. "We made Heir Potter an offer of 1.200.000 galleons in good faith for a basilisk of approximately fifty feet in length, teeth and skin almost completely intact and nearly fresh. It remained to be determined as follows: the exact length, the exact age, the quality of skin, the presence of venom in the teeth and venom sacks, the colour of the scales, the fragrance of the beast's magic and, of course, the presence of viable eggs or sperm."
"And what is the surveyors' verdict?" Sharptooth asked.
"They were in agreement: the offer can not stand," Ragnok declared.
Harry deflated a little, but the chief's next words had him sitting straight almost immediately.
"After careful judgement, both Gringotts' and House Potter's surveyers agreed that the carcass of the basilisk is worth exactly 4.986.782 galleons, 9 sickles, and four knuts, to be paid in full as soon as possible."
"What?" Harry squeaked. He cleared his throat and tried again. "That's ... that's more than triple the amount! How?"
"Look for yourself, youngling." Ragnok offered the scroll. "Your basilisk measured in at seventy-three feet, weighing in at just shy of four tons. Not counting the tooth you used to stab the diary, its set of teeth was quite whole. There were eleven ounces of venom still in the sacks, its skin was intact just as you promised, and we found several eggs in its belly. As they're all viable, they'll bring us a very tidy sum!"
"Wait, there are eggs? And they're gonna hatch?" Harry choked on his spit. "That's crazy! The babies will kill people just by looking at them!"
"Calm yourself, youngling," Healer Spleenbash said. "It's true that basilisks belong to the most dangerous magical creatures on earth. However, a basilisk can only ever be created from an ordinary chicken egg that was hatched under a toad. Natural occuring progeny of a basilisk lacks the deadly stare, although they are both highly venomous and poisonous. They're called death adders and will only be sold to parselmouths who know what they're about. As a matter of fact, despite their name, death adders, once they bond to a wizard, are very useful for light magical craft, and highly sought after. They won't be misused, you have Gringotts' word on that."
"Huh. Wow." Harry wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans. "Sorry."
"Don't be, your worry is understandable," Sharptooth said. "The last reason for the increase in payment are the half dozen skins we found in the surrounding dungeons. Each of them is immensely useful for the production of protective gear and that is not an exaggeration. The goblins working with dragons will be very glad to receive new equipment. So, do you agree to Gringotts' offer, Heir Potter?"
"Of course, yes!"
"Then please read the contract and sign here when you're done."
Everybody waited patiently while Harry read over the clauses, and his few questions were answered clearly without any attempt at prevarication. A quarter hour later, the contract was signed in blood and Harry felt a little dizzy with the knowledge that Dobby would never have to work for a family like the Malfoys ever again.
"Let's celebrate!" Ragnok called, clapping his hands. A large spread of refreshments appeared and they all toasted to their good fortune with goblin ale and lemonade.
"Now on to the much smaller matter of Heir Potter's memory of his fight with the basilisk," Ragnok went on after they had each eaten a couple of canapés. "You asked for access to the ritual circle in the trunk Gringotts has placed in your house. Is that still your wish?"
"Yes, please."
"Then I'll grant it, although we'll have to be ... artistic in how we accomplish this." The chief grinned. "To that end I'd like to offer you a partial lease of the trunk, Heir Potter. Would it please you to call the bedroom, the bathroom, and the ritual room your own for the rest of the summer, for the tidy sum of ten galleons?"
"I do," Harry replied. "But why can't I rent the whole trunk?"
"That's where we're being artistic," Sharptooth said after Ragnok gave him permission to explain. "As long as the trunk is nominally ours, it counts as a goblin dwelling where we may travel as we please. Once a wizard rents the space whole, it is turned over to the Ministry of Magic's jurisdiction. You, however, will only rent forty-five percent of the space, allowing you to use the parts you rented as you wish while at the same time allowing us to meet you without much hassle for your healing appointments."
"Oooh, clever!" Harry smiled. "Let's do it!"
"Remember the other beautiful perk of the trunk," Healer Spleenbash purred. "You, dear youngling, can do magic in there."
For a moment, the possibilities seemed nearly endless. A bubble of pure happiness rose from Harry's stomach to his chest where it popped and flooded him with warmth. The signing of that particular contract was a joy, despite the small sting of the bloodquill's magic on the back of his hand.
"It's good to see some colour in your cheeks," Healer Spleenbash chuckled. "However, doing magic won't help you get healthy. As Sharptooth and Bonepick said, you need a lot of sunshine, rest, good food and nutrients, and also a little exercise. To that end, Gringotts wants to make you an offer."
Ragnok cleared his throat. "As you know, Gringotts is a very rich nation, Heir Potter. Most of our ressources are tied up in businesses, though, and the amount of easily accessible gold is very limited. In fact, Gringotts won't be able to pay the sum for your basilisk in full, immediately. As that would be a breach of contract and very embarrassing besides, Healer Spleenbash came up with a solution that I hope will satisfy us both."
"Due to your status as a minor, you are currently unable to visit any of your family's estates," Sharptooth stated bluntly. "Your guardian would probably allow it, but unfortunately he is not eligible to make such decisions for you right now. Several years ago, his proxy has declared his intent to ban you from your family's holdings until you have reached the age of twenty-one. So far, he has not changed his mind."
"Why?" Harry asked, frowning.
"I don't know," Sharptooth replied. "You'll have to ask Dumbledore that yourself."
"No, I mean, why can't my guardian make those decisions? And wait, Headmaster Dumbledore is my guardian's proxy?" Harry felt as if he were riding on yet another rollercoaster without knowing how he'd gotten on in the first place. "I don't understand."
The goblins shared a long, speaking look. Sharptooth straightened himself and said, "Your actual magical guardian is a man named Sirius Black. He was your father's best friend, you see, and he is your godfather in magic. In 1981 he supposedly betrayed your parents by giving away the secret of their location, allowing the Dark Lord to find and kill them. He also supposedly killed twelve muggles and another of your father's friends, Peter Pettigrew. For that, he went to Azkaban, where he spent the last twelve years."
"What?" Harry croaked, shocked.
"I know, lad. It is a disgrace," Sharptooth growled. "Since no minor can live in the magical world without a guardian, Dumbledore took on the duty. He holds many positions in the national and international governments, as well as being the headmaster of the school you were to go to. The Wizengamot, Great Britains body of government, therefore appointed him as Sirius Black's proxy. He's been holding the position since shortly after you survived the killing curse that fateful night and exercised his rights in a variety of ways."
"Why won't he allow me to find out more about my family?" Harry asked. "And why did he send me to live with my relatives? He knows they don't like me!"
"I don't know," Sharptooth admitted. "But we're prepared to help with that, at least." He opened a drawer and pulled out a huge, leather-bound book. "This is a catalogue with available estates. In lieu of gold, we'd like to offer you an estate or estates of your choice. Not only will this spare our liquid assets, it will allow you to live independently and safely, as we'll be protecting the land with war wards after the purchase. You will have the opportunity to pursue your recovery to the fullest. Healer Spleenbash quite insists that this is the best course of action for your health."
"I can do that?" Harry couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. "I can just buy a house and Dumbledore won't be able to do something about it? Really?"
"I don't see why not," Sharptooth replied with a shrug. "You can use the trunk to come and go as you please, and it doesn't seem very probable that your relatives will call the authorities should you vanish for days at a time. And as to magical protections against the Dark Lord's people ... I certainly never felt any wards besides the one your mother cast on you, never mind live guards. I'm rather sure Dumbledore would never even know. As you'll have bought the property without your family's money, it doesn't fall under his direct purview. But even if he should notice, it would be child's play for Gringotts to appoint a steward and tie everything up in so much red tape that you'll have reached your majority before the court comes to a decision. In fact, we should set up such a contract tonight, just to be on the safe side."
"I ... that would be so, so ..." Harry took a deep breath. "Fantastic! Truly, this would be so much better than gold!"
"Then have a look, there are only estates listed you can afford, and that Healer Spleenbash has deemed beneficial to your circumstances," Ragnok said. "While you're ocupied, Sharptooth and I will negotiate the details of his stewardship."
Beaming, and deliberately pushing away the horror of having a murderer for a godfather, Harry accepted the book and opened it.
"You'll have to help me pick, Dobby," he said. "We should take a house with lots of land around it for your berries."
"Dobby will!" the elf promised.
There were a little less than two dozen estates to choose from, half of them outright ineligible due to the lack of cultivable land. When Dobby tried to press Harry into having a closer look at a beautiful seaside manor, the boy refused staunchly on the grounds that the small parcel of land wasn't even enough to plant a proper garden to feed Harry, nevermind support one busy elf. As beautiful as the stretch of beach was that came with the cottage, it definitely wouldn't do what he'd promised his friend. Also, it was expensive; too expensive in Harry's opinion.
In the end, and much sooner than all of them had anticipated, Harry had picked just four options for viewing. One of them wasn't even habitable, as it was just a huge, wild plot of land that had never even been built upon, but Harry was happy to keep living with his relatives if it meant that Dobby could work to his little heart's content.
"We will arrange for visits immediately," Sharptooth said with a pleased nod. "What time would suit you best?"
Harry mentally went over his daily chores. "The evenings would be good. I can skip dinner and there'll still be light out."
"I'll arrange for your pick-up at seven, then," Sharptooth decided. "Oh, and before I forget: during all of last year our missives to you returned unopened. Do you know why?"
"No, I'm sorry, sir." Harry swallowed. "Did I miss something important?"
"Thankfully not." Sharptooth bared his fangs. "Although we're happy that you're now sending your Dobby to pick up your mail. Next to Gringotts owls, there's no better way to send sensitive post."