Bromstein

Consciousness returned gradually. I slowly opened my eyes and saw the high white ceiling and thought I was back in Death's room, but a familiar excited voice proved otherwise.

- Harry, can you hear me? - The blurry face of Veselur loomed over me, peering inquiringly into my eyes. - I thought the crazy old man had finished you off.

- For illegally using bank records and giving them to people?

The goblin stared at me in surprise for a few seconds, then laughed.

- Well, yes. The wording isn't very good. We don't actually have a law against it, it's just that no one's ever done it. Is that the only thing you care about?

- How long have I been laid up? - I asked, assuming a sitting position. It even worked the third time.

- About an hour. Dumbledore got kicked out of the bank for using magic to harm customers. That's exactly the kind of law we have. Bromstein was taken to the manager's office for trial, and you've been lying here peacefully all this time. He used some kind of paralysing spell on you, but I think he overdid it.

- That's right," I said, trying to focus my eyes. - He thought I was the Dark Lord. That's an interesting conclusion. You don't think so, do you? - The thought had just occurred to me, but I sat away from the solicitor just in case.

- No," he grinned. - You're not up to it, Harry. No matter how hard you try. But even if I did, what do I care? Gold is gold.

- Wait a minute, Riddle has a solicitor too, doesn't he? - I don't know why I need one, but it's worth asking.

- Riddle? No, no, no. For all I know, the Dark Lord is a half-blood. And who do you think used our services? The wizards who lived in the hovel or the Muggles in general? - It was impossible to tell from his tone which of Riddle's bloodline made him more disgusted.

- You know, Veselur, I guess I'm just not quite over it yet.

- I'll put your weird questions down to a head injury," he was silent for a few seconds, gathering his strength. - Do you want to tell me what all the fuss is about?

- Why not? - I shrugged, not finding any reason to play Dumbledore. - That Halloween night in eighty-one, I was taken to visit my maternal relatives.....

I spent the next hour telling the solicitor about my hard life, Riddle's Horcruxes, and my reasons for disliking the Headmaster of Hogwarts, omitting only the moment with the new soul. Stopping at the moment when I woke up in Azkaban, I exhaled relaxedly, leaning back against the back of the couch.

- Yeah," Veselur said after a few moments of silence. - Now a lot of questions disappear. I take it that the Horcrux we have in our possession has already been taken? - Who's talking about what, but the goblin's talking about the jar.

- Yeah, I think Sirius Black got it out using his family ties to Bellatrix.

- Well, if he was able to do that, it must have been legal, otherwise the cup would still be in our possession and no one would be able to take it. Now I understand perfectly well your dislike of the headmaster.

Dislike is an understatement.

- Yes, that's the way it is," I said distantly. - So what will they do to Bromstein now? I'd hate to see him get away with it.

- As I told you, Harry, there's no law against it, but I don't think the headmaster's going to let it go. After all, he's not a fan of goblins being too frivolous with his clients.

- All right, that's taken care of," I said, rising. - Let's see what Dumbledore does now. The headmaster won't leave the situation to chance, either, and I think he'll try to deal with the imaginary threat of me in the time he has left. I wonder how he'll explain a situation in which I destroy my own Horcrux. - Veselur shrugged, not really caring about the situation. I couldn't blame him for that. - Let's go to the vault and pick up the rings.

At these words, the solicitor immediately became animated and looked at me with interest.

- Rings, you say? You want to propose at Christmas? Look, Harry, it's none of my business, but isn't it a bit early?

- Yeah, you're right, I've thought about it myself, so it's just an engagement proposal. The wedding isn't until I turn seventeen anyway.

Veselur nodded contentedly and led me to the carts. As usual, it was an endless corridor, but we couldn't get to the end easily. A dishevelled Bromstein came flying out of a door, shouting angrily at us from behind. He caught us just as we were discussing the contents of the vault and gave us a very unkind look. I guess I had underestimated the bank director's displeasure. And judging by Veselur's explanation, it was the one who shouted.

- What's going to happen to him now? - I asked, referring to Bromstein.

- Judging by the amount of anger in his eyes, he was demoted to cashier at least. Well, those are the ones in the lobby," he explained in response to my puzzled look. - Usually they take novice workers there, but sometimes they send experienced ones away for minor offences. I was there myself before you arrived, as you know. But that was only because I had nothing better to do at the time. - Well, that explains how the first goblin I met turned out to be my attorney.

- What happens to those who commit serious offences? - I did wonder, given that I don't see any goblins outside the bank. However, the bloodthirsty smile of the attorney immediately brought back in my memory a lot of weapons, hanged on the employees of the bank guards. I didn't want to discuss the subject any further.

When I reached the carts, I took the passenger's seat and prepared for a frantic race. After five minutes of torment and torture for my gastrointestinal tract, the cart stopped right next to the safe.

Using my goblin finger key, I stepped inside and went straight to the corner where I had seen some jewellery. I consulted with the solicitor and was able to pick out a pair of gold rings that, if Veselur was to be believed, had been worn by one of my ancestors. I didn't go into details, but they looked rather discreet and I liked them. If anything, Fleur could choose others, it was not a matter of principle.

As I took a seat for the return journey, I prepared myself for another round of torment, promising myself to use the vault as little as possible, but this time it was even worse. About halfway through the journey, the cart began to shake, and judging by the look on Veselur's face, I wasn't the only one who was surprised. The goblin tried to control it, but it shook more and more, and we instinctively crouched down, hoping we could make it to the end.

- I don't understand what's happening! - The solicitor yelled. - This has never happened before, it's like someone has glamoured the rails!

By this point the cart was already spinning off the road with left and right wheels alternately, and it wasn't going to stop, so we were sprawled out on the floor, hoping we'd get there before it rolled over.

No such luck. When we were about fifteen metres from the entrance to the bank, the trolley showed us something new and braked with its front wheels, which sent me and my attorney flying forward and the rest of the distance through the air. What added to the problem was the fact that the area for stopping the trolleys in front of the doors was very small, and the rails approached it through the air. When I landed flat on the ground, I groaned at the sharp pain and slowly got up, listening to the sensations and trying to see if I had broken anything. When I looked around, I saw the door to the bank slowly close behind the goblin I knew. Now I could see whose work it was. It seemed that the former Dumbledore family solicitor had not forgiven us for losing his position.

My own solicitor, on the other hand, was nowhere to be seen. I ran quickly to the edge of the platform and saw Veselur grasping the rails with all his might, dangling over the precipice. His mouth was open in a silent scream, and panic-stricken terror was in his eyes. I lay down on the platform and held out my hand to him, but he was only a short distance away. The goblin hung onto it, clinging to it as if he meant to fall with me. He was unexpectedly heavy for his size, so I had to use all my strength, which after six months of sitting in one place was not much, to pull him up. As soon as I was sure there was a footing under my agent's legs, I leaned back exhaustedly and stared at the ceiling, trying to catch my breath. Veselur stood next to me in the same pose.

- Thank you. Thank you, Harry. I owe you one," the solicitor said, coming to his senses.

- Come on," I said, waving my hand. - Don't thank me, because I'm going to need you, and I'm going to need your finger. - The goblin chuckled, which meant I'd defused the situation. - Bromstein did it.

- I thought so," Veselur nodded, rising to his feet. - Only a goblin knows how the carts are enchanted. But we can't prove it to anyone. We'll have to deal with him ourselves. I'll take care of it, don't worry.

- It's a deal," I said as I stood up. - But if you need help, call me right away. Just don't send official letters.

I felt my pockets and was relieved to see that nothing had fallen out, and then I looked at the cart, which, after standing for a while at the place of our unplanned disembarkation, slowly moved forward and quietly reached the final station.

- Okay, let's go," I walked towards the door. - I don't want Fleur to worry if she gets back before me. And Dumbledore and the Lord won't be idle for long, we need to get ready.

- You're right, Harry, but remember that I'm always at your service, any time you need me.

I nodded, thinking that now Veselur and I could definitely be considered friends, if not friends, then faithful companions, even if we had found a very peculiar way to do it.