"No such treasures in our vaults?"
Harry kept the smile on his face, but the warmth drained from his eyes.
He was, by nature, even-tempered and tolerant—yet that did not mean he would overlook Gringotts' negligence. A few Galleons lost might have been forgivable. What they had cost him and Vivi, however, was a quantity of irreplaceable alchemical materials, including the very ones that might allow Vivi to break free of the temporal seal and return to the present. That was why, after a full year at Hogwarts, Harry no longer blasted every goblin he met with ancient magic the way he once had with Ranrok.
The goblins noticed the subtle shift in his expression at once. Bodrick discreetly stepped on Scadder's foot to stop the other from making any unfortunate sound.
"Mr. Potter," Bodrick said, his voice rising to a sharp pitch, "Gringotts will mobilise every resource at our disposal to help you locate both items! Please trust Gringotts—trust our sincerity. The moment either substance is found, the bank will bear the entire cost of acquisition as compensation for your losses!"
He hurried on. "In addition, Gringotts still holds the Hogwarts Board of Governors seat formerly belonging to the Lestrange family. That, too, will be transferred to Mr. Potter."
Only then did Harry give a satisfied nod.
Gringotts truly did not possess angel feathers or basilisk fangs; he could hardly force them to produce what they did not have. The goblin nation was vast, with branches across the globe. Setting them to the search would be far more efficient than hunting the materials himself.
"I believe Gringotts' sincerity has convinced me," Harry said. "Your earlier failure in vault security was serious, yet the effort you are now making to set things right deserves recognition."
"Thank you—thank you for your kindness," Scadder bowed repeatedly.
At Harry's approval the manager's heart finally settled back into its proper place. By the Galleons above—moments earlier he had thought the end was near.
"As Mr. Potter observed," Bodrick added smoothly, "Gringotts provides every client who entrusts us with their treasures the most impeccable service. We are, after all, partners."
Harry picked up the two documents—one confirming Gringotts' own governorship, the other the former Lestrange seat—and nodded in acceptance.
"True partners."
"Then, Mr. Potter…" Scadder began, then lightly tapped his own lips. "No—Governor Potter…"
Harry considered for a moment and decided it would be wiser, for now, to place the title on someone else's shoulders—Pobby's, for instance. The idea of a unicorn sitting on the Board of Governors amused him far more than the thought of holding the position himself.
"My time is rather limited," he said, tucking the documents away, "so I shall ask an old friend to serve as governor in my place for the time being."
"You may rest easy, Mr. Potter," Scadder declared, thumping his chest. "Whoever you appoint, Gringotts will give its full support!"
"Good." Harry inclined his head.
"And… Mr. Potter," Scadder asked carefully, "should news of angel feathers or basilisk fangs reach us, how ought we to contact you?"
"Two-way mirrors," Harry replied. "Convenient and quick."
Scadder nodded at once and gave quiet instructions to a nearby goblin. A moment later the goblin returned with a pair of mirrors.
"This one is for you, Mr. Potter." Scadder handed the second to Bodrick. "Should we discover any trace of either material, Mr. Bodrick will contact you through the mirror."
He then produced a small pouch.
"This purse has been enchanted with an Undetectable Extension Charm. Its interior measures ten cubic metres." He offered it to Harry. "Such extensively expanded containers are rarely seen these days. Please accept it as a gift from Gringotts to so valued a client."
"Thank you." Harry gave Bodrick an approving glance, slipped the mirror into the purse, and tucked the purse into an inside pocket.
With both sides having spoken frankly, Harry saw no reason to linger. After leaving Gringotts he wandered the street for a while, intending to buy something for Pobby to try.
Pobby was a Hufflepuff sort of girl at heart; she would probably enjoy Honeydukes sweets.
By the time the thought fully formed, he had already spent more than twenty Galleons. Best to head back, he decided.
He waited until he had returned to his twelve-year-old appearance before entering the Leaky Cauldron. As he reached the door of his room on the second floor, however, he found a house-elf standing there.
"Hello," Harry nodded to it.
House-elves and goblins were entirely different beings. The former bound themselves utterly to a single wizarding family, serving that household with lifelong devotion. The latter were highly intelligent humanoid creatures with long fingers and toes who coexisted with wizards in the magical world. Goblins excelled at metalwork—especially silver—and minted the currency of the wizarding world. Their mastery of finance had given them control of Gringotts and, to a large extent, the magical economy itself. Goblin rebellions had erupted more than once throughout history; the most recent was the one Harry himself had lived through. As a result he held no fondness for goblins.
House-elves were another matter. When Harry first arrived at Hogwarts, Professor Weasley had assigned him a house-elf named Dikko to look after his daily needs during term and holidays. Dikko had been gentle and kind; by extension, Harry found he rather liked house-elves in general.
The moment the elf at the door saw him, its enormous eyes widened. Bat-like ears flapped once, and it clasped its hands together.
"Harry Potter—are you the great Harry Potter?"
"If you mean Harry Potter, then yes," Harry smiled. "But as for 'great'… no."
"Harry Potter defeated the Dark Lord and brought peace to the world! He is worthy of the title 'great'!" the elf insisted.
Harry thought of his mother.
"No," he said quietly. "It was my mother who defeated the Dark Lord."
"Harry Potter's mother was a great witch—and a great mother!" the house-elf declared softly. Then it began slamming its head against the wall. "Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby! Making Harry Potter remember sad things! Bad Dobby!"
"Is your name Dobby?" Harry caught the elf's thin, rather grubby arm. "Stop punishing yourself. It isn't your fault."
His first impression of this particular elf was excellent—anyone who called his mother great had good taste.
Dobby ceased the self-punishment and looked up.
"Then… why have you come here?"
"Dobby was sent by his master to deliver an invitation to Mr. Harry Potter." The elf sniffed. "But Dobby does not wish Mr. Potter to accept, because Master…"
It started banging its head again.
"Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!"
Harry sighed and tugged the elf toward the door. "Come inside. We can talk properly there."
He had no desire to attract an audience; a few curious faces were already watching from the corridor.
Once inside, Harry gestured for Dobby to sit.
"All right, Dobby. Who is your master?"
"Dobby serves the Malfoy family," the elf whispered. "Dobby's master is Lucius Malfoy, current head of the house."
The head of the Malfoy family?
A pillow delivered just as one was about to doze off.
Harry had already intended to visit Malfoy Manor after leaving Gringotts. Now Lucius was issuing a formal invitation of his own—saving Harry the trouble of arranging it.
"Why don't you want me to go?" Harry asked curiously.
When someone of Lucius Malfoy's standing treated a newly finished first-year with such formality, there was usually a request attached. Then again, Harry was the last remaining Potter; in theory he was head of his own house.
"Because… because the young master's arm was found to bear the Dark Lord's Mark…" Dobby's voice trembled with fear. "The Dark Lord… Mr. Potter and his mother worked so hard to defeat the one whose name must not be spoken, yet he has returned. Dobby fears Master may mean Mr. Potter harm…"
Harry swiftly cast a Binding Spell on Dobby's arms and legs to prevent further self-harm.
"You needn't punish yourself, Dobby. Let me ask you something." He paused. "Why do you hate the Dark Lord?"
"Because that monster… treated us like maggots…" Dobby shuddered. "Those were dark days indeed…"
"But Dobby heard that the monster returned only a few weeks ago, and Harry Potter smashed his plans—even defeated him face to face!" The elf's great round eyes shone with admiration.
"Yes," Harry smiled. "But I also have reasons of my own for visiting Malfoy Manor. I need to consult Mr. Lucius Malfoy. So I must go, Dobby. A friend's life depends on it."
"A friend?" Dobby murmured.
"A very good friend," Harry said softly. "Dobby, as a Malfoy house-elf, have you ever heard of someone called Cassandra Malfoy?"
"Oh…" Dobby's ears twitched. "Miss Cassandra Malfoy? Dobby's mother once served her. Mother said she disappeared when she was still very young. But—"
"But what?"
"But Dobby does not know much more. If Mr. Harry Potter wishes to learn more, perhaps Miss Cassandra's father could tell him."
"Cassandra's father?" Harry's heart jumped. "Wait—are you saying Septimus Malfoy is still alive?"
"No. Dobby has only seen the old master's portrait in one of the rooms," Dobby explained. "The old master was always elegant. He never spoke harshly to lowly elves like us."
Harry heard the implication clearly enough: the current master, Lucius, was rather less elegant and rather more free with insults.
"In that case I have even more reason to go," Harry told him. "Please inform Lucius Malfoy that I shall arrive promptly at five o'clock this afternoon."
Dobby hesitated. Emotion urged him to keep Harry away—every Malfoy was a committed Death Eater and might endanger the Boy Who Lived. Yet the invitation was his master's order, Harry had agreed, and the matter was important. Duty and circumstance left him no choice but to deliver the message.
"Dobby hopes Mr. Harry Potter will be careful," he said at last, then left the Leaky Cauldron.
Once Dobby was gone, Pobby's head pushed up the lid of the trunk.
"Harry? Harry? Has your visitor left?"
"Yes. I'm going to the Malfoys' this evening." Harry opened the purse and produced the sweets he had bought. "Here—these are for you. You haven't had anything like this in the forest for a long time, have you?"
"Wow!" Pobby's eyes curved with delight.
She butted her head affectionately against Harry's arm and snapped a sweet neatly from his fingers.
Watching her demolish more than a dozen doughnuts in short order, Harry was struck by a sudden and rather serious thought.
"Pobby…" His eyelid twitched. "I've just realised—you've been inside the trunk for two days straight. How… how have you been managing the, er, bathroom situation?"
Regret washed over him. He really should have installed a vanishing toilet in there. He no longer dared imagine the state of the trunk's interior.
"Oh, that," Pobby flicked her tail casually. "Unicorns have a rather special physiology. We don't need to… you know."
"Really?"
"Of course." Pobby's eyes narrowed suddenly. "Wait a minute, Harry—I think you're imagining something very rude!"
"I'm not," Harry denied at once. "Why would I think such things?"
"Hmph." Pobby snorted lightly and resumed chewing. "Don't worry—your concern is completely unnecessary. Satisfied?"
"Er… actually I also brought some fruit." Harry produced a heap of berries. "Blueberries—your favourite. Have as many as you like…"
"Yay!" Pobby cheered, the earlier "offence" already forgotten.
Harry exhaled in relief. Thankfully she had not pressed the matter further.
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