Chapter 11 Gringotts and Brothers

Harry's POV

Harry was in the tunnel to Honeydukes, he had used his Cloak and map to get this far. Now he wanted to see to what extreme he could take his magic. So he put the two tools on the ground, held up his wand and said "Make me Invisible." He felt a cold sensation all over his body, like he had been plunged into snow, and when he looked at his hand in the torch light and it was transparent. He could just make out a very faint outline, but other than that he was invisible.

"Great," he exclaimed, and then pointed his wand at his glasses and said, "Make a Marauders' map." A six-foot translucent map with green shapes of buildings and two moving dots, with names over them, appeared in front of him like a hologram. It showed about twenty feet in all directions.

"Minimize," he stated quickly and now it was in the corner of his right lens. He could see it just off to the side, about ten inches tall. He could just make out the two dots, but they were far away and moving further.

"Tiny." Now it was just a speck of green on the bottom of his glasses. It was there but he couldn't see anything but names. He could now read Argus Filch and Mrs. Norris, but he had no idea who they were. They were still moving away, so he didn't care.

"Expand." Made it the ten-inch version. He could see through it, so it didn't impede him too much. He moved his head and the map moved with him. He looked up and could still see the ceiling of the tunnel, and the light on the wall. He experimented with it for a minute or two and saw that he could still see quite clearly, though everything to the right had a green tint.

"This is fucking fantastic," he said with a great deal of excitement and made it minimized again.

Now he wondered what to do with his Cloak and paper map. He looked at his front pockets, pulled the right one open and said, "TARDIS," and the inside grew much larger than the outside. He had no idea why that worked, when the acronym TARDIS didn't mean that at all, so it must be intent and vision like Luna had explained to him. He just shrugged it off, quickly picked up the two items and shoved them in the now really wicked pocket. He was going to have to do this to all of his pants. At least one pocket on each. Oh… or he could make a bag to tie onto his belt, or even get a money belt and expand that. The ideas were endless.

He looked at his cool new map, and saw that the coast was clear. So he hurried down the tunnel. He didn't want to teleport inside the wards of Hogwarts, just in case the old man could feel him leave. That wouldn't end well.

When he felt the wall of magic, he went to the other side of it, and then with a 'Bampf' and a bit of blue smoke he was in the alley next to the Leaky Cauldron. It was a good thing his teleporting worked, or he would have had to call that Knight Bus, which the twins said was a nightmare. It was also beneficial that he had spent a lot of time here when he was on the streets, or he wouldn't have a target to go to. He surely didn't want to wind up in China on accident. He had gotten the idea off that blue guy in the X-Men comics. Nightcrawler, that guy was one of his favorite characters. He was just awesome. The way he could go anywhere he wanted at any time.

Our hero expanded his map and checked it and saw that only someone named Tom was in the pub. Being invisible, he simply snuck through without any problems. When they were going over the plan, the twins were very thorough and told him how to open the archway. When it opened he looked around, and was disappointed that all the stores were closed, but he could see that this would be a neat place to walk around during business hours. It was so old-worldly and rustic. Nothing like the streets of London.

He peered at the stores as he made his way to the bottom of the marble steps that led up to Gringotts. The lookalikes had warned him to not go inside undercover, or they might think he was there to rob the joint. "Appear," he said, after looking at the map to make sure he was alone. This time it was a warm sensation that accompanied the change.

The two goblins at the door growled at him, but let him in nevertheless. He nodded his head in thanks and scuttled through the golden doors. He scoffed at the poem and went through the second set of doors. The inside was just like Fred and George described it. All counters and marble, with small, yet mean looking, goblins running around or counting jewels and money. It was actually quite busy for this time of the night. There were men in dark cloaks, some with hoods. Others with no outerwear, just very stiff and old-fashioned suits. He was quite sure some were vampires. If the pale skin, long teeth and ruby lips were any indication. There were a few that looked too poor to need a bank. Their clothes were patched, and they were covered in scratches and scars. There was one guy that just oozed darkness, but he was leaving. None of the patrons seemed hostile, but Harry wasn't going to go and talk to them.

He went to one of the lines and waited his turn. He kept looking around and noting everything. This was all new to him after all. He did realize that the goblins were curt and snarly and wondered if this was just how they were or was it because they were working the graveyard shift. When the teen was finally called forward, he almost skipped to the teller. He held up his key, smiled and said, "I'd like to see what vaults I own. You see, I've had a bit to a bother and my memory has gone walkabout," he explained cheerfully.

The goblin took the key and examined it, when he recognized who it belonged to he handed it back. "Well," the surly goblin snarled, tapping his gnarled finger on the countertop, "we can do this one of two ways. You can let us do a blood test, or come back in a week, giving us time to look through our archives." He fully expected the teen to say the latter. Most wizards enjoyed making the goblins do it the hard way. Lazy, untrustworthy bastards. It wasn't like his people could do anything with their precious blood. Well, not that they would tell about anyway.

"I'll do the blood test," our hero offered quickly, not wanting to waste his or their time.

"Very well. Snarlfist!" the still unnamed goblin shouted.

"You bellowed," came the deadpanned response from right next to Harry, making him jump in surprise.

"Take this human to do a blood test," the teller growled, pointing at a door in the back.

"Come with me, human," Snarlfist said as he turned and walked away.

"Sure thing, goblin," Harry snapped, put out that they didn't even introduce themselves. Then he remembered Luna's lecture to Hermione about putting human values on other creatures. So he shrugged and followed the shorter creature.

"You would do well not to anger us," Snarlfist stated firmly.

"And you would do well to be polite," the messy-haired boy said just as firmly.

"Just get in here," the little being growled as he yanked open the door the teller had pointed to.

On the other side of the door, was a little room with a waist high table that had a stone bowl and plain silver knife on it. That was all; the rest of the room was bare.

"Well, this is homey," Harry said, looking around at the marble walls and stone floor.

"What did you expect? Tea and biscuits? It is a simple blood test. You prick your finger, the results show and you're done," the goblin said with an impatient wave of his hands.

"Right, I just put some blood in the bowl and Bob's your uncle?"

"Yes. Only a few drops."

"Okay," Harry said as he went to the small table, took the knife and made a tiny cut on his thumb. He let a few drops of blood fall into the bowl, making sure to think the dagger clean. He had no clue as to who these guys are, but in many books blood could be used to curse you. When he was done, the potion in the bowl turned red and three vault numbers appeared above it.

"You have three vaults," Snarlfist stated redundantly.

"Thanks," the human said with a roll of his eyes. "How do I access them?" he noted that two were under Potter and the other one was Evans. 'I wonder if that's Mum's name,' he thought.

"First we have to find out why you have three vaults, when you should only have access to one." The goblin rubbed his bearded chin in confusion.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked with a tilt of his head.

"I mean, you are about fourteen years of age, and should only be allowed in your trust vault. This," he waved his long, thin hand at the numbers, "also shows your family vault and your mother's."

"Oh, well I was falsely entered into a tournament that is for of age people. Could that be it? Even though I'm told I didn't put my name in?" he asked, thinking of all the things he could do if this were true. Though with his limited memory and only secondhand recounts, his information was minimal. Though, he was glad to now know he knew his mum's maiden name.

"Yes, if magic thinks you are old enough to die for the masses, then it might be as you say." Snarlfist nodded his head knowingly. "You will have to talk to an attorney to make sure, but it is plausible." He then shrugged his shoulder, it wasn't his duty to understand the ways of humans.

"Shite, I wonder if that means I have to compete," Harry fretted, not wanting to lose the vaults, but he really didn't want to play in those deadly games. Even if what Luna said was true, and it was all about intent, he wanted some practice before he competed in anything.

"Don't be foolish, if you didn't enter your name then you are not obliged to fulfil the contract," the goblin said as he led the boy to the lobby. "We do know how contracts work, and magical contracts cannot be forced. Magic doesn't work that way, or people would be forcing contracts on others all the time, what with the spells you humans have."

"I guess that makes sense," Harry said relieved.

They came to an empty counter and Snarlfist waved his hand over another stone bowl and two keys appeared. "Everything your family owned is in these vaults. Don't ask us what, we don't know and we don't care. As long as the fees are paid, then you keep the vaults."

"So you're more of a storage facility and less of a bank?" Harry hedged, not wanting to piss him off more than he already had. He just wanted some money to spend, not pick a fight with beings that were probably fiercer than they looked.

"When it comes to the vaults, yes, however, we do make loans, exchange money, and other such services. The pure-blooded families would never let us lower beings control their finances," the goblin snarled menacingly as if it were Harry's fault.

Harry remembered the coin man from London and couldn't help think, 'Loan sharks and thieves.' He made a mental note to himself to move his gold elsewhere as soon as he could. Right now though, he nodded, took the keys and said, "Thanks, you've been very helpful. Can I go to my family vault please?"

"Right this way," Snarlfist said a bit snidely.

The Twin's POV

Ron was headed to bed, when his twin brothers each took an arm, and hauled him into the empty Headboy's room. They all but threw him on the bed and stood in front of the door. "What?" the youngest redheaded boy snapped, but with a very worried look in his eyes. He knew damn well what they wanted. He just hoped they believed him.

"Want to tell us why you had Harry's stuff in your trunk?" Fred asked as he folded his arms across his chest. He wanted to believe that his brother was not a thief, but the evidence was just too much. There was no good reason for what they found.

"Yes, do tell us why we shouldn't tell Mum and Dad," George added, mimicking his twin. He too was severely disappointed with tonight's events.

"I was holding it for him," Ron said, lifting his chin up.

"Right, you hate Harry right now, so why would you protect his things?" Fred said with a disbelieving shake of his head. "You could've just cast a locking charm on his trunk, or had an upper-year do so," he pointed out.

"I was!" their younger brother shouted. "If I did that someone could have just taken the trunk. I was keeping his stuff hidden in mine."

"Ron, stop lying," George snapped as he narrowed his eyes. "You've never been able to, not with us. Now tell us the truth." Ron had a tell, his left eyebrow twitched when he lied. They never told him, of course. If they had the boy would just learn not to do it. Right now, that twitch was there, so he wasn't telling the truth or at least on all of it.

"No, I really was, I was going to give it back if he returned," Ron said, rubbing his nose, his tell showing. "But, I thought he was gone for good and it was all just sitting there, so I reckoned why let it go to waste. Not that I wanted him dead, or even thought that he was, but I figured he ran away like a bloody coward and wasn't coming back. I mean why else would he have left his dad's cloak behind?" He shrugged as if it was obvious.

"That is still stealing. You have no right to any of Harry's things unless he gives them to you or wills them to you, you idiot," Fred snarled, walking forward and getting into Ron's face. "Even if he did run away, the professors would've packed his things up and sent them to the bank," he explained to his little brother. "Then after this whole thing blew over he could collect them. They aren't your things, you have no right to them," he finished, poking Ron in the chest.

Ron stood and pushed him back. "Why the bloody hell not? Do you know how many times I've almost died because of him and his need to 'save people'? The troll, the chest game, the huge ruddy spiders," here he shivered, "the cave in, and his bloody godfather. Every time something's going on with Harry Bloody Potter, I'm stuck getting hurt. And what do I get for my trouble? He goes and enters the tournament behind my back!" he yelled. "He owes me," he stated firmly.

"First off, the troll was partially your fault. If you hadn't been such an arse to Hermione none of you would have been there," George said, ticking that off on his fingers.

"Second, you volunteered to go and help with the stone, and got points for it," Fred said, lifting two fingers. "You bragged about it all summer, until Mum threatened to magic your mouth shut."

"Third, what spiders?" George said, thinking back over that year and wondering what Ron was talking about.

"Harry dragged me out into the Forbidden Forest to talk to a nest of Acromantula. Hagrid said if we wanted information to follow the spiders. We almost got eaten, if it hadn't been for Dad's car, we'd be dead," Ron explained, with a full body shudder. He still had nightmares about that night. His fear of spiders was very strong. He deserved a bloody award for that alone.

"If Hagrid is the one who directed you there, how is that Harry's fault?" George asked curiously, causing his little brother to glare at him.

"Forth, if you hadn't flown the car and broken your wand then that cave in might not have happened, granted you'd be dead, but again you volunteered to go after Ginny," Fred pointed to the forth finger.

"Now I have no idea why Black was after you, those are his actions not Harry's," George finished, waving it away as he lowered his hands.

"Of course your taking his side, everyone always does," Ron snarled as he sat back on the bed and folded his arms mulishly.

"When has everyone taken Harry's side?" Fred started, looking very confused.

"In first year, when he lost all those points and the whole house turned on him?" George asked, just as confused.

"Ruddy dragon," Ron mumbled, rubbing his hand where that stupid baby dragon bit him.

"In second year when they thought he was the Heir of Slytherin?" Fred said, remembering the great time they had yelling in the halls, but also acknowledging that it had been a very bad year for Harry.

"Which you stood up with him for," the youngest pointed out.

"Because we knew he wasn't," they both snapped back.

"Now third year I have to admit the school didn't turn their backs on him, but they didn't ruddy well have his back either," George said, thinking the year over to see if there was a time the school shunned Harry and coming up blank.

"And last, but surely not least, this year when the whole school is calling him a liar and a cheat? So tell us Ron, when was this standing up going on?" Fred asked, looking to his younger brother.

"You don't know Harry like I do," Ron protested, holding up his hands defensively. "He is always in trouble and he always seems to get out of it. After all of his 'adventures' he gets points, or awards, and stuff. I got a crummy fifty points first year, while he got sixty, how is that fair?"

"If what I am told is correct, then he faced You-Know-Who. He should have gotten the House cup named after him," George retorted, not liking this side of his baby brother. He had no idea that his jealousy went this far.

"He saved our sister's life," Fred said softly as if that should stop the whole argument.

"And he got an award for it," Ron said snidely. "I was there too, you know? All I got was a pat on the head and a lolly."

"No, you got over a hundred points for the Chamber incident, which all you did was stand around with Lockhart," Fred snarled. He couldn't believe the stuff coming out of Ron's mouth. He thought that his little brother enjoyed all the 'adventures' he and Harry had gone on. They heard about it every summer, while Ron bragged about all his heroic deeds.

"That's it, we're done talking to you," George said, grabbing his twin's robe. "We'll leave this to Mum and Dad," he finished as he pulled open the door.

"You need help," Fred said, pointing a finger at Ron as he was pushed out the door.

Ron just fell back on the bed and pouted; now he was going to have to listen to his dad lecture and his mum yell and it was all Potter's fault.