Time Keeps on Slipping - Chapter 13

Harry sat across from the gold armored goblin. Unlike other offices this one didn't have a desk. Simply two chairs facing each other. To make it even more strange, the assembled silver armored goblins had taken position in a half-circle behind the one sitting.

Logically, he knew he should probably be scared, or at least worried. Instead, Harry was amused. It would be just his luck to survive a trip through the veil only to start a war with the goblins. He wasn't sure if he could fight his way out of the room, let alone the bank, but he wasn't going to go down easily. Goblin silversmiths could work wonderous enchantments into their creations so it was likely that any spells would have a reduced.

He could summon the Sword of Gryffindor, but he had no training with it. The goblins looked like they knew what they were doing with the weapons they held. He wondered who the idiot was who came up with the idea that goblins shouldn't have wands. They wouldn't be nearly as intimidating if their axes, swords, spears, and polearms were swapped out with sticks of wood.

There were many things that Harry had learned through the years when dealing with tense situations. One, if you do something stupid, do it right. Two, it's better to look like an idiot than to open your mouth and prove it. Three, hydrate.

"Mister Potter." The goblin in gold armor growled. "We will need to confirm your identity before we continue."

Harry raised an eyebrow. He shrugged and waited. A goblin hurried into the room carrying a thick tome. They came to a stop in front of Harry and opened it.

"Place your hand on the page." The goblin ordered.

"No blood?" Harry asked as he raised his hand.

The goblin gave him a toothy smile that would have made a shark wince. A wave of pain washed over the flesh that touched the page. Harry tried to yank back his hand only to find it stuck to the book. He glared up at the goblin that held the tome. Whatever he was going to say was erased from his mind as he saw blood stretch out across the page. Text began to form in the shape of a family tree. The pain eased as the names solidified.

Harry gritted his teeth as the goblin pulled the book away without warning. He glared at the goblin as they shuffled over to the one in gold armor. It wasn't surprising when they knelt before the clearly important figure. The goblin in gold armor took the book and scanned the page. They nodded then returned the tome to its carrier.

"Lord Potter." The goblin nodded. "I am King Agnar, first of my name. State your business."

"Your majesty." Harry nodded back, he really hoped that was what he was supposed to do. "I need to reactivate my account."

The clank of armor as all of the goblins in the room shifted hurt his ears.

"Is there a problem?" Harry was getting tired of this.

"Are you aware of how we handle accounts for wizards when they die?" King Agnar asked.

Harry shook his head.

"You are the last Potter." King Agnar explained. "Truly the last of a family line. When there are connected branches, or thin bloodlines that could eventually become strong enough for a claim. For those, such as your situation, they are folded into Gringotts portfolio. The Potter Vaults were expansive, and the investments made from them were vast. We do not care for the affairs of Wizards but our relationship with the Ancient and Noble House of Potter is long and profitable."

Agnar paused to let the words sink in. Harry nodded for him to continue.

"Upon your death the accounts were closed, and the vaults sealed." Agnar explained. "The gold within has been distributed to the account managers and their families. The artifacts have been moved to our treasury for study and evaluation. This is all standard for when a bloodline truly ends."

Harry really wished they would stop pointing out that he was the last Potter.

"With you alive, these measures are not to be taken lightly." King Agnar held his gaze. "You are well within your rights to call in a Blood Feud on any goblin involved. One that no goblin would be able to oppose. The account managers, their families, and those who have profited from the liquidation of the Potter Vaults would owe their lives to you. As an Ancient and Noble House with an extensive, profitable relationship with Gringotts, your account was handled by the highest-ranking goblins. My family, and as the king all goblin-kind are my people. You, Lord Potter, hold the future of the entirety of the Goblin Nation in your hands. Of course, we cannot allow that to happen."

Harry scanned the assembled goblins. A bubble of madness started to well up inside of him again. He smiled. The smile stretched across his face until it hurt. A soft laugh escaped his mouth until it grew in volume. Here he was, just trying to get some boring red-tape handled and now he was on the precipice of starting a war.

The goblins all watched him with a mixture of confusion and dread. They had plenty of experience dealing with mad wizards. It never ended well for anyone involved.

"I'm sorry." Harry wiped a tear away from his eye. "I don't mean any disrespect. It's just…" He took a deep breath that devolved into another fit of giggles. "It's just, I don't care about any of this. I wanted to get my account in order, so I'd have some money for school supplies and some clothes of my own. I didn't even know there were artifacts."

King Agnar stared at studied him silently.

"I'm not going to declare war, or whatever you're worried about." Harry sighed and tried to get his breath under control. "You made money off the investments? Keep it. Just give me back what I started with. The artifacts too. I'd like a list of those. After that, everything is fine."

King Agnar stared at him hard for a long moment. He cocked his head back and let out a loud laugh. Harry joined a moment later. The assembled goblins shifted uncomfortably as they waited.

"We have a deal, Lord Potter." The King nodded. "We'll get you a temporary account arranged while we start the process of rebuilding your vault."

"Thank you." Harry returned the nod. "You can call me Harry if you'd like."

By the time he walked out of the bank the news of his being alive had spread throughout the alley. A protective force of Aurors was arranged to keep the people from swarming.

"Mister Potter! Mister Potter!" A voice called from the crowd. "Are you truly Harry Potter?"

Harry paused. He recognized that voice. It didn't take long to find the source. Rita Skeeter held a bushy quill out toward him. The thing vibrated as she spoke.

"Rita?" Harry waved at her. "I didn't expect to see you again. Nibble any good leaves lately?"

"Very funny, Harry." Rita mock-pouted. "I'm a fully registered animagus these days."

"That's great." Harry smiled at her. "No more Quick Quills?"

Rita gasped, playing up the hurt.

"Harry, if you keep talking to me like that you're going to have to take me out for dinner to soothe, poor little me." Rita teased.

"Another time." Harry teased right back. "It takes a lot of work to come back from the dead."

"That wasn't a no." Rita smiled at him.

Harry winked at her. After dealing with a room full of goblins ready to kill him a reporter wasn't intimidating in the least. At least for now. He was still riding the weird cocktail of adrenaline and anxiety. It was not going to be fun when it finally wore off.

He didn't make it much farther before Tonks approached.

"We need to get you out of the public." She whispered. "This wasn't how we wanted people to find out."

"Story of my life." Harry chuckled. "Rose and Roxie are waiting for me in the Quidditch Supply."

"I'll let them know." Tonks led him out of the street.

The Aurors fell into step as she took him to the Ministry. Plenty of the workers saw him without Luna there to lead him. They didn't bother to check his wand since he was with Tonks. Harry felt himself slowly starting to come down from the rush.

"How did it go with the goblins?" Tonks asked as they rode the elevator.

"It was…" He paused. "Interesting."

"Hermione already put through the paperwork to get you alive again." Tonks continued. "Your OWLs were pretty good considering it was the middle of the war. Are you sure you want to retake your fifth year? You've already got it cleared."

"I guess." Harry shrugged. "For me, I took the tests last week. I'd be fine with moving on to Sixth Year."

"It might help your adjustment too." Tonks bumped his shoulder with hers.

"Fred and George told you about that?" Harry asked.

"We care about you, Harry." Tonks dropped her voice to a whisper. "I mean, you're the jailbait that got away."

Harry snorted in shocked laughter.

"What?" Harry gawked at her.

"Enough of the mushy stuff." Tonks flashed him a victorious smile. "I'm sure you'll get enough of that with Sirius."

"Sirius is here?" Harry asked.

The ebbing energy from earlier came back in force. Tonks nodded.

"Go easy on the old dog, eh?" Tonks said. "He's had it rough since you… died."

Harry took a deep breath. He nodded. The elevator stopped on the floor where the Auror Office was located. He didn't make it three steps out into the hall before a large, black dog tackled him to the ground. Padfoot sniffed all over his face, then his neck, before he hopped back. He returned to his human form mid-jump and landed on his feet.

"It's you!" Sirius yanked Harry off the ground and pulled him into a fierce hug. "It's really you."

"Hey, Padfoot." Harry leaned into the hug. "It's good to see you too."