Harry Potter and the Coming of Fate

Emancipation:

Harry Potter woke the next morning, having actually endured a restful night of sleep. No nightmares, no visions, and all without the use of a Dreamless Sleep Potion. It was 5:30 in the morning, and the sun wasn't scheduled to show for another hour and fifteen minutes. This is exactly how Harry had wanted this day to begin, as dark and quiet as possible. He dressed in a pair of Dudley's hand-me-down khaki trousers that he was swimming in and a blue t-shirt that usually fit, but for some reason it seemed to be a bit small today- maybe it was a growth spurt that he had finally settled into, and he prayed that it was. He didn't relish the idea of being the shortest boy in sixth year at Hogwarts, coming in at only five foot and seven inches. So he tossed the shirt back into the cabinet, which had been the bin for all of Dudley's unwanted articles of clothing, and pulled on a black shirt instead that fit better, but not by much. Then he strapped Sirius's wand to his right forearm, pulled the long-sleeve down to cover it, grabbed a set of robes and his fathers' invisibility cloak and set off.

Once downstairs Harry started peering out the front room windows, trying to find a hint of the witch's or wizard's that Dumbledore had ordered to follow him around for his protection. He doubted that Mundungus Fletcher would be on duty after what had happened last summer, but with Harry saying that he would stay at number 4 Privet Drive; perhaps Dumbledore had slackened a bit. Highly doubtful, but Harry thought he could hope at least. Mrs. Figg definitely wouldn't be out this time of morning patrolling discreetly since she was a squib; she was nothing more than another minder to report to the headmaster about Harry's well-being.

'Some informant she is, or did Dumbledore stumble across another one of his greater good questions when it comes to me?'

Harry had to finally realize that this wouldn't be as easy as he had hoped, there were probably at least 4 order members on duty, all of which probably had invisibility cloaks themselves, and if Mad-Eye was out there he'd see through me in a matter of seconds.

'Think, they're figuring that I'm a stupid 15 year old boy wracked with guilt and not really thinking with my head. They also think that I'm probably upstairs crying and lacking sleep, what aren't they looking for? How the hell am I going to slip past them? I can't bloody well apparate, I don't have a port-key- let alone know how to program one, hmmm. Only one option and that's over the fence in the backyard- I wonder if they're watching the neighbors gardens?'

Draping the invisibility cloak over his body, Harry strode through the kitchen and out the back door.

Pausing on the porch, Harry had the thought to go back in and grab his sneak-o-scope, but the talisman wouldn't be program to detect friends, just those plotting against you and those sneaking, and while technically that's what the order was doing they weren't trying to cause him harm and that's what he was doing himself so it wouldn't have helped anyway he reasoned.

'Ha, all in the suit that you wear I guess.'

Walking straight through the back garden to the wooden six foot gate, Harry kept his eyes forward, feet light, and ears open. Reaching the fence hadn't been a problem so far, he was there and there weren't any signs of the order members being any the wiser.

They might be stalking me. Listen to me, I'm turning out to be a regular paranoid like Moody and I'm only over the fence.

He made straight for the neighbors garden gate door. He thought about going through the house with an unlocking charm, but figured that the order was probably watching the neighbors' homes for signs of ANY magic for a possible tip-off to attack. So he opened the gate door, sticking close to wall of the home and side-stepped behind some tall hedges. This was all too much like those prison break movies that he heard Dudley talking about a few years ago, and those all turned out horrible.

'AND THEY HAD A PLAN AT LEAST!'

Grinning at his... well it was stupid courage really that he was grinning at. What he was doing was incredibly insane, and thus he hoped that whatever karma he had that wasn't wasted from escaping Voldemort would come to him now and let him make it down at least a few streets, then he could summon the Knight Bus. At least it wasn't too quiet this morning, quiet was always a bad sign for Harry.

'It's too quiet...'

'Wands up, you reckon?'

He closed that thought off as soon as he even recognized the voice. He kept telling himself that he would deal with all of 'trivial' as he donned them, emotions when was at least partly done with his summer tasks.

His Firebolt would have come in handy. It would have gotten him clear of the Dursley's in a matter of seconds, but would also have given him away to the Aurors even quicker; even if they weren't able to catch him. The drain system was his only sure way of making it down the streets without being noticed.

Realizing that there wasn't a particular moment that he was waiting for Harry made his was along the hedge towards the walk-path, which to his unbelievable luck was where the drain was. No movements, no signs of anybody being the wiser- which disconcerted him more than he would have liked. In a series of movements that looked like he had practiced, Harry Potter fell to the concrete with his arms across his shoulders gripping his cloak, rolled to his right into the street and thanks to his lithe figure- which he planned to change over the summer, and then right into the drain. Landing with a slight splash and on one knee, he let out silent congratulations to himself. He stood, removed his invisibility cloak and stuffed it into the empty leather satchel that he was carrying on his back.

Righting himself, Harry looked up at the drain entrance and couldn't believe how he just slid right through. Even with being happy about it, Harry swore that he would no longer be a small scrawny boy. The state of his body disgusted him at that moment. Thin pale arms, short skinny legs with knobby knees, and he knew that he could count his ribs just looking in the mirror. 11 years and 5 summers of malnourishment were hard to undo even at Hogwarts where he could eat as much as he wanted and whenever he wanted.

Snapping back to reality, from his self assessment of his body, he started to make his way through the drain system which wasn't as complicated as he feared. Harry really didn't care where the system led him, just as long as it got him far from the Privet Drive. Fifteen minutes later, he figured that he had probably made it even further from Magnolia Crescent that he had thought he would go before he called the Knight Bus. Thinking that he still needed to be cautious about his movements, Harry slid on his fathers' cloak, and used the ledges on the concrete walls for finger holds so he could pull himself out of the sewer.

'I have definitely got to get into shape this summer,' he thought as he finally crawled out of the drain panting with exhaustion from such a short climb.

'Should have just floated myself out of there... no, no magic until I'm out away from here.'

Sauntering over to the walkway, Harry's hands went to his thighs. Catching his breath his finally pulled his wand and gave it a little wave.

BANG!

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, I'm Stan S... uhm, hello?" the confused conductor said to the thin air.

"Diagon Alley. What's the fare?" Harry inquired from beneath his cloak.

"Oh, of course, right then," said the conductor realizing that this customer needed to hidden for some reason. "That'll be 2 galleons then."

Harry reached into the money bag attached to his belt and pulled out two identical gold coins and tossed them to the conductor, then slid by him and noticing that all the beds were empty took the nearest one.

"Price went up did it? I'm in a hurry do you think we could go?" Harry said as soon as he sat down.

Stan, closing the doors and yelling at the driver to head for Diagon Alley, stepped towards the bed with the depression in it.

"Yeah, new safety measures on the bus, with You-Know-Who back an' all."

"I see," said Harry, thinking what kind of devices had been installed onto the bus.

"You're the only one this morning, should be there in a minute, or two," said Stan.

"Thanks, I really appreciate t."

"No problem, this is what me an' Erne do. D'ya mind if I ask what the whole cloak and dagger bit is about?" asked Stan in a slightly more than by the by curiosity.

"Sorry mate, personal," said Harry trying to sound like a different person, probably something Ron would say, yeah I'll pin it on Ron, he'll get a laugh outta it, grinning again. "I suppose I can accept that, just curious, mostly Aurors have invisibility cloaks, and Aurors don't normally travel by the Knight Bus. You aint an Auror is ya?" Stan asked slightly accusingly.

When Stan asked that question, Harry abruptly stood, and brushed right past Stan to stand next to the door.

"Hello?" Stan asked, still looking at the dent on the bed thinking someone was still there. "Sorry, didn' mean nuthin' by it, but your business is your own," sounding rejected.

The Knight Bus for a change pulled to a slow stop in front of the Leaky Cauldron, and from watching Stan operate the lever that closed the door behind him when he first got on, Harry slid it forward to open the doors and left without looking behind him or saying a salutation to Stan.

At almost six in the morning Harry Potter walked to the door of the Leaky Cauldron, but before pushing the door open, he raised his wand to his face and muttered an incantation he had learned the past year during his research for a transfiguration project. Throwing off the cloak just as he stepped into the pub, he stepped and walked over to Tom the owner.

"You must be Tom, right?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, that's me, do I know you?" the toothless wizard asked. Tom was looking at a short pale, brown haired green eyed young man. He couldn't really see anything significant to jog his memory, just some baggy clothes underneath a set of old robes that looked like that they had been through the thick of things a time or two.

"Nope, can't say that you do, but a friend of mine told me what your name was so I wouldn't feel foolish when I came and talked to you," Harry said trying not to sound too rushed.

"Oh ok, who's your friend then," Tom said warily.

Harry leaned close to Tom and whispered, "Harry Potter."

"Oh, oh ok, well you don't look like trouble and if Mr. Potter's your friend as you say he is, what can I do for you, you look a bit young for firewhisky," asked Tom with a smile plastered across his face when he made Harry smile with that remark as well.

Laughing a bit at the firewhisky and age pun Harry asked about getting a room for the night.

"Well we've got a couple of vacancies, but where are your parents; you know that you shouldn't be out without them right now, what with everything going on?"

Harry was beginning to get a little flustered with all the questions, he had expected a quick in, sign the registry, then head to the bank, but now he was having to come up with a story- and lying was not Harry's greatest strength.

"Can I be honest with you for a moment?" Harry asked.

"Sure, no reason not to be, I've heard everything there is to be heard being here behind this very counter," Tom said very pointedly.

"Well, do you know about Harry's relatives, you know, the one's he has to stay with?" Harry said while feigning concern.

Tom lowered his head in sadness, "Yeah I've heard the stories from your Headmaster and Hagrid. It's a shame they've got him holed up there, can't imagine why though- he's probably attached them to much to leave 'em I guess."

'What the bloody hell has Dumbledore being saying about me to people?'

"That's where you've got it wrong Tom." Harry said more than a little pointedly.

"What do you mean?" concern growing in his eyes.

"He doesn't want to be there, its all Professor Dumbledore's doing. Harry told me something about protection from," then Harry leaned in really close to whisper, "You-Know-Who."

Harry leaned back and then nodded his head, when it dawned on Tom what he had just said.

"So, what are you really doing here then?" realizing that this boy was here to get something for Harry Potter, Tom was willing to help out in any way he could.

"He asked me to pick some things up for the next school year since he cant get out of his house and he's got to spend his whole summer with those, well lets say I've met them and they're lower than muggles, and I'm not one to judge people." Harry was saying matter-of-factly.

"I see. I see indeed. Well lets get you registered and then on your way so you can help... your friend," hoping to get his young man on his so Harry would need whatever school supplies to occupy his time. Such a shame for a boy to have to be kept away from the world, and in the worst sort of way, what was Dumbledore playing at he started to wonder?

Part of Harry hated that he was in a small way taking advantage of Tom, but he had work he had to do and this in no way compared to the stories he was more than likely to end up telling today.

Harry signed the registry under the name Johnathon Schrom, then walked through the dining area and into the back room, tapped the bricks just like he'd remembered Hagrid doing his first trip here.

However, Diagon Alley was suited perfect to his needs right now. Shops were preparing to open in a little while, and besides him there were five other people here. Dawn was a little over half an hour away and Harry needed to visit Gringotts before he went anywhere else.

The white marble building was the most prominent, even dwarfing the Ministry of Magic's main office building. It reminded Harry of a picture he had once seen of the Parthenon; well the entrance did anyway, with all the massive columns. The doors to Gringotts were huge gigantic pieces of glass, with the borders etched in gold and the crest of Gringotts embossed in the center of each panel. Even the handles where plated with gold, although Harry had a suspicion that the handles were actually solid gold themselves.

Through the front doors, Harry passed the security goblins, and proceeded to the nearest bored looking goblin sitting behind a desk.

"Excuse me; I'd like to make a withdrawal. I'd also like information on the exchange of gold to sterling if it is at all possible," sounding slightly timid but more confident that he thought he'd have been around a goblin.

Sitting up abruptly, well with a more postured state, the goblin looked directly at Harry, taking in what was asked of him.

"Very well, you have your key I presume?"

"Yes, of course," Harry said while handing over the small key.

The goblin ran his eye over the key, then his eye over Harry.

"Is that all that you require of Gringotts today Mr. Potter?" the goblin asked while handing Harry back his key.

"For now," trying to sound as imperious as the goblin Harry retorted.

"Follow me Mr. Potter," the goblin said as he stepped out of his chair and floated to the floor.

Glancing around the room Harry noticed that he was the only human in the building at the moment, or there were but they were employees of the bank off somewhere or other customers down visiting their vaults.

Once the goblin got down from his desk and started walk Harry followed. At the mine-cart Harry turned to face his guide.

"I'm sorry if this is rude, but are you the goblin that first showed Hagrid and me my vault?" Harry asked.

Facing Harry, the goblins expression changed from one of serious business to one of serious interest.

"Yes Mr. Potter, I was the goblin that accompanied you to your vault. It is quite odd that you would remember me, even if by my face."

"Why is that," Harry asked hoping to gain an ally at the bank.

"To most, that is to say wizards, a goblin is a goblin, they are no different from each-other," the goblin replied with a hint of resentment behind his words.

"I've found that I'm not like most wizards, I don't share many of their views for their superiority over other beings. I have a half giant, a werewolf, a real giant and a house-elf for friends, I'm pretty much an uncle to a dragon named Norbert, there's also a Hippogriff that I'm pretty friendly with, and then the centaurs, but they're more of a fluctuating friendship, we're friends some days, and then some days... well," not realizing that he had rattled on Harry came to a stop with the centaurs.

"The discriminating attitude that most wizards show towards other beings is not one that I will ever agree with, but with a fool for a minister, there doesn't seem to be much happening on the 'change public opinion' front," the hate for Fudge was clearly evident in his voice and he hadn't meant to get so carried away.

"I'm sorry for my outburst," Harry said regaining his composure, or what was left of it to begin with.

"It is quite alright sir, there are many who share your views, but it is not my place to say Mr. Potter."

"Please, call me Harry," he said after listening to what the goblin had to say.

"Very well, Harry. Please step into the cart," the goblin said pointing to the passengers' seat.

Once seated Harry turned to face the goblin and asked, "Well, you knew my name, and I'm supposing that it had something to do with my key, can I ask what yours is?"

"Excuse me," the goblin was now staring Harry down, but with a look of complete confusion.

"I'm sorry, if I'm not meant to know its ok, I was just curious, I didn't mean to insult you," Harry stammered out.

"No, it's quite... odd; it has been quite some time since I've been referred to by name. My name is Griphook," Griphook with surprise lacing his tiny voice.

"Well, I'm Harry, you're Griphook, let's head to the vault," Harry said with a smile on his face.

As soon as Harry said let's, a feral smile crept across Griphook's face and he lowered the lever to accelerate the cart. Griphook did not flinch at the sudden acceleration down the caves corridors; Harry on the other hand, was thrown back in his seat and was letting out a scream of enjoyment.

They came to a halt in front of vault 687, Griphook stepped out of the cart first, asked for the lantern, then the key, then allowed Harry access to his vault. What surprised Harry was that the original amount of gold that he had seen seemed to have multiplied, more than a dozen times over, which baffled Harry and caused his to run his fingers through his hair- which made it even more disheveled that before the cart right.

"Griphook, is there any way to tell what the current balance of my account is?"

"There is a podium in the back of your vault with a ledger that keeps track of all the assets within this vault, but for a complete listing of all holdings at Gringotts you'd have to ask the bank manager," being as informative as possible Griphook answered.

"Griphook?" Harry asked turning around heading towards the podium.

"Yes, Mr. Potter, I mean Harry."

"What did you mean when you said for a complete list of my holdings?" Harry was asking trying not to give away the burning the curiosity inside him, and the rage that he felt when he already knew somehow that Dumbledore was connected.

"Sir?" Griphook was saying trying to avoid the question.

Harry's eyes widened as he viewed the number at the bottom, he had never even dreamed he would have so much money in his life, let alone right now in this very vault. The very vault that Harry stood in made him a millionaire, a little more than three times over, and with the thought that there were other holdings in his name somewhere close by his mind was racing with all the ideas he had come up with that were no longer fanciful dreams, but thoughts that he could turn to reality without so much as blinking to worry about money.

"Griphook, if you have knowledge of anything that is being hidden here from me, please tell me, especially if it involves Albus Dumbledore. That man has caused me too much pain and grief in my life by hiding things from me, and then telling me it was for my own good or that it was not time yet for me to know," with both rage and sadness Harry was speaking to Griphook with a very low and controlled voice.

Trying to decide whether or not to tell this young wizard what was being done to his account was not his place to say, but this was no ordinary young wizard, he seemed genuinely hurt by what was happening to him because of Albus Dumbledore.

"Harry, your vaults are watched for certain actions by the bank here, these actions should they ever occur are then reported to the headmaster of your school- since he is your acting wizard guardian he has complete knowledge of both of your vaults here at Gringotts, however he has no knowledge of your holdings or property that were previously not known to him. He has no access to the accounts; it seems he merely wants the managers to report any substantial withdrawal or any devious behavior with your holdings."

"Griphook, I want you to know that that was the most honest and complete answer that anybody save my best friends have ever given me in my life. I would ask you to please show me to the other vault that you spoke of; you mentioned two so I am assuming that this is the first. And that you inform me of any strict measures that are enforced upon my accounts, and then that you tell me if there is a way that I can completely avoid Dumbledore's gaze or sever his ties at the bank to me completely."

The amount of pain that Headmaster Dumbledore inflicted on this boy must have been extreme for him to react the way that Griphook witnessed. Harry did not yell, did not scream, and did not cry. He stated his questions firmly and clearly, but the hate and pain in his voice was apparent so much so that Griphook almost felt sorry for the headmaster had he been in the vault.

"I will take you to the Potter family vault, and I must say that although it seems that Headmaster Dumbledore has grieved you, with him being your wizard guardian there is no action that you can take until you turn of age or are somehow emancipated from him and declared a legal adult."

"Thank-you," his words still laced with the loathing he felt towards Dumbledore, towards anyone who had tried to control his life, save Sirius or Professor Lupin. Harry started to fill his bag with galleons until Griphook stopped him.

"Harry sir, it would not be wise to walk around Diagon alley with thousands of galleons in your satchel. When we return to the lobby I will give you a different way to access your account from outside of Gringotts."

"An alternative to carrying around all these galleons, Griphook, you've got to be the most helpful person I know right now. Can you tell me who watches these accounts of mine, the goblins, are they higher ranked or do they perform some special task?"

"Higher position of course, with a greater salary but they do nothing different. They manage the account of course, keep the ledger up to date, and see to your investments, they provide the best interest rates available. But they are not able to remove money from your account without express consent."

As they were walking back towards the vault door Harry asked another question, "who appoints these managers, is it based on rank in the company or something else?"

"For the most the managers of the accounts are assigned by the owners themselves, however, in a situation such as yours, I'm sure that you can guess assigned your managers."

"I want them replaced," Harry said forcefully.

"I apologize for your misinterpretation, there is no them, there is only one, and his first concern is the safety and security of your holdings."

Griphook was finding this an incredibly delightful conversation, never before had a wizard engaged him to speak of finances without knowing at least something about them before hand. But Harry Potter, it seemed he knew the basics, and that was probably because of whoever brought him up, probably muggles by the look of his garments, he most likely knew of balancing a check-book and the idea of a credit card, and most assuredly sterling, but there was something about this situation that made his naivety hard to take in. He'd been hurt by more than one person in the world, and although he'd made it seem like Albus Dumbledore was responsible for more than a fair sure of that pain, Griphook did not seem interested in duping the wizard and taking what he could while he could. Harry had no idea he had a second vault, or what the amount he held in his trust account was; it seemed he did not even know that vault 713 was his trust account; he appeared to believe that was it. Had no one informed him of where he really came from, his lineage? Griphook was contemplating all of this when Harry surprised him once again with another request instead of a question.

"I would like for you to take over the managing of my accounts," he said flatly, off-handedly like this was an everyday occurrence that you replaced the account managers.

"Sir, I mean Harry, are you sure, this would not go unnoticed by your Headmaster?" Griphook asked warily.

He couldn't believe what Harry Potter was offering. A promotion, a raise, more respect and definitely more power at Gringotts and to a goblin that meant as much as the world.

"Yes, I trust you; you were honest with me, when I'm sure that no one else would have been. I do not care if Dumbledore knows if there was a switch in account management. Although I would be grateful if you found someway of hiding my being here, and I'm sure that you could find some cunning way to make it known that I requested your appointment to my account manager by mail instead of by person, that way my headmaster will be unaware that I was here today," he said giving Griphook a friendly smile, something that no one had really seen Harry wear since before his Sirius died.

"Well! Very Well sir!" Griphook said while doing an incredible job to contain his enthusiasm.

They were in the cart now and heading deeper in the caves and after about five minutes of getting deeper it was nearly pitch black.

While riding, Harry leaned over and asked Griphook if there was anything he needed to sign officially to mark his new appointment of account manager. Griphook had replied that the simple offer and acceptance of the position was the equal of signing a contract between magical beings. The one thought that went through his head was why was that allowed to occur then if I'm not of age and able to speak for myself? Griphook had been unable to answer, but informed him that once back in the lobby that he would look into it while Harry was being informed of his new account settings.

Another five minutes and they were sweeping past vault one hundred, then 64 in the flash of an eye, and after that they came to a halt in front of vault 13. All of the vault doors around were massive, big enough for two giants to stand guard inside the span of the doors.

"Griphook, is this it. This... I don't even have words, the vault has to be... wait, I don't even want to guess how big it is. How do I open it?" Harry asked with more trepidation that eagerness to see what was inside.

Griphook who was standing in the on the cart, rather than the ledge next to the vault, instructed Harry to prick his finger on the raised edge, then place his palm on the circular pad next to it. Harry winced slightly when he cut his finger on the sharp edge, but then placed his palm on the circular pad next to the center of the two massive doors. He half expected a voice to start speaking inside his head, or for the pad to start glowing, instead his hand felt slightly warm and then tingly. Retracting his palm when he heard the family sound of gears turning, Harry noticed the cut where he pricked his finger had been healed.

'I'm pretty sure that whatever is behind these doors is more than worth a little cut for a few seconds.'

Once again, Harry's expectations did not lead him down the correct path. Inside the vault Harry could see very ornate pieces of furniture, expensive rugs, or what he thought looked to be expensive rugs. The left wall of the vault was completely covered in very high glossed mahogany cabinets. The right wall was mostly covered in muggle packing boxes. The back wall housed hundreds of tapestries, some muggle but for the most part wizard. He didn't see any human portraits, which he was hoping for so that he could ask them some questions. Then in a corner on the right wall, were books, there must have been hundreds; and from what Harry counted there were eight stacks taller than he was and was sure that there were stacks beyond these first ones. He was taking it all in stride, that was until he walked back to the center of the vault and noticed a very large chest with a cream envelope on top of it, which he thought was odd. Then he noticed that the envelope was addressed to him.

Harry James Potter

Griphook just watched as Harry sat down on the floor cross-legged, slowly opened the envelope and begin to race through emotions. He did not think it was possible for one person to express so many different emotions from one single letter. For what was going to be his record for life, he was sure of it now, Griphook was wrong whenever he assumed anything aboake long for Harry to finish the letter, and it seemed like less than a second before Harry was off the floor and standing next to Griphook.

"I trust that you found some solace in the letter Harry," Griphook asked worriedly.

"Some, I have found something priceless and something immensely horrifying all at the same time, but it has strengthened my resolve for what I have to do. Griphook, what is in those cabinets on the left wall?" Harry asked with a new found confidence.

"Your other monetary assets are contained in those cabinets. The more prominent the vault, the more care is given to the possession within. If you were to open them, and I must tell you that you cannot, you would find that the money is more organized than in your trust account, there is more here..." Griphook was about to continue but Harry cut him off.

"Sorry, but I really don't want to know what is inside those cabinets. But I am curious as to why I would not be able to open them?"

"It has nothing to do with your wizard guardian; it simply has to do with the stipulations of your inheritance. The money in 687 was originally part of this account, but due to unfortunate circumstances which befell your parents, their will had a trust account set up to get you through school and through one year afterwards, and then you'd be able to rightfully claim the full extent of your inheritance."

The air between the two suddenly became more business like and each others consternation took on one of both seriousness and friendship that the other could respect. Griphook who was still finding it slightly odd to be having a complete discussion and helping in the decision process, instead of simply filing paper work and asking wizards and witches to 'sign here please', was starting to come to terms more with Harry as more than a client. Harry, who only slightly understood what he was doing, was more than a little grateful for Griphook's assistance, a little wary of being taken advantage of, but the more that they talked the more trust Harry was finding himself giving away to Griphook. No more trust than necessary, but enough to learn what he needed and gain a friend in the banking world that would not take advantage of him.

Harry had asked Griphook to accompany him over to the chest where he had read the letters, and then placed his palm on the center of the chest, which released the charm that had sealed it, and opened. Harry had also asked that Griphook not ask or look inside the chest, but instead asked him to help lower the books inside of it.

Harry used 'wingardium leviosa' and Griphook was using his own goblin form of magic, which was wandless and impressing Harry greatly.

"Is that something that you are born with or something that you learn?" Harry asked while watching Griphook lowered the books in the trunks with his hands.

"I hoped when I was younger that it was something that all goblins are borne with, but no, it is something that is taught," Griphook said a little wistfully while lowering the last of the books into the trunk.

"Can it be taught to a human?" Harry was asking speculatively.

"I have never heard of it being tried before," said Griphook not making the connection. "It is learned from a book, not an instructor as you are used to, and the book being written in Gobbledegook and there only being a handful of wizards alive who can speak our native tongue the idea has never been brought to pass and tested, why do you ask?" Griphook said now looking at him which caused the final connection to be made.

Griphook was looking at Harry with the impression that he had grown a set of extra head to replace the one that wasn't thinking clearly.

Harry, seeing that what he was asking was getting through to Griphook asked, "How does a human learn Gobbledegook?"

Then there was the feral smile, the smile that Harry saw spread across Griphook's face when he had tried to throw Harry off his questions and scare him. It didn't work then, and Harry was sure that it wasn't going to work now. But what Harry didn't realize was that the feral smile was a Griphook's cunning shining through.

Griphook, finished with all of the books, closed the chest, with physical force this time instead of magic, but did not look in the chest- he wasn't sure he wanted to know what was in there, walked to where Harry was standing.

"Kneel." Griphook spoke.

'This doesn't look exactly like the best place to be, some of those history of magic lessons were pretty detailed with the Goblin Rebellions.'

Griphook seeing the slight apprehension said, "I will not hurt you," then he started chuckling.

"What's so funny?" Harry asked with mock indignation and a slight smile.

"For the most part it is the goblin that is afraid of the wizard Harry, not the other way around," still chuckling to himself, it was not everyday that one was appointed to a higher position, given a raise and then the opportunity to scare a wizard- even if the wizard isn't fully grown or trained. Goblin history being what it is still made this occurrence something he would never forget.

"Oh, ok," the apprehension gone, but the curiosity growing.

"Please hold out you arm."

Harry did as he was told, and as he did so Griphook extended his hand and ran his index fingers sharp nail of the flesh of Harry's forearm.

"This will only hurt for a second, I guarantee that," Griphook said still smiling.

Then Griphook dug the nail slightly into Harry's skin, drawing a thin line of blood. To Harry's surprise, well second surprise because he did not expect Griphook to cut him, there was absolutely no pain, and that slightly scared him.

"There, I said only a second, and I meant it, you did not feel any pain at all did you?" Griphook said feeling full of himself.

"No, there wasn't any pain, what just happened, why did you do that?" Harry asked trying to get all of his questions out and answered at once. Seeing as how Griphook was the only one to give him straight and full answers about anything whenever he asked, he was trying not to waste his time.

"Do you know what language you are speaking in Harry," Griphook asked with a huge grin across his small face.

"Well I can understand you, so English..." then it donned on him almost a moment too late as always, "you didn't, did you? I mean this is great, am I really speaking Gobbledegook?" Harry was sure that his smile was reaching his eyes.

"But I thought... well Ludo Bagman learned your language from a book and from talking with goblins, I thought that was the only way for a human to learn this?" Harry really didn't care how he had acquired the skill only that he was now in possession of it. Well, when it came to certain abilities that he had gained from Tom Riddle there was a never ending debate inside his head about whether or not he cared where they came from, but this argument was clearly already won for him.

Still speaking in Gobbledegook, Griphook replied, "that idiot Bagman tried and because of our help and the book he found which was written as a joke mind you, and he still owes us money so forgive me if I speak ill of him, there are also the other handful of wizards and witches out there that speak out language, but that ability comes from something like what I just gave you. Considered it my gratitude for what you have done for my position, and for the trust you have placed in me. What I have just done is to have impressed a little of my knowledge onto you, I know you probably do not like to speak of him, but You-Know-Who did something along these lines, only quite by accident, if I have been informed correctly."

Harry just nodded, still kneeling and completely comprehending this new language. It made sense what Griphook was talking about, Parseltongue and Gobbledegook, but Harry was curious if that was all that was imparted onto him from Griphook.

"Do not worry, that is all I have passed onto you, just knowledge. There will not be any adverse effects, however, your children will all be able to speak the language fluently without having any sort of instruction."

"WHAT!?"

"Do not worry Harry, I must say that your given name is still a bit informal for me, would you mind if I used your more formal title, it would be easier for me?"

"Uh, sure, what do you mean it will be passed onto my children, will my Parseltongue ability be transferred to them as well, I mean if I ever have children, I don't really know if I'll live that long.. I mean I'll try but," Harry was near collapsing back from shock.

"Mr. Potter, oh that does sound much better. Our language is passed down through blood lines; I have no information to give on the transference of your other abilities being passed on to your children."

"Oh, ok, sorry for going spare for a moment there."

"Not at all Mr. Potter."

'Ok you just absorbed a new language, and with what the letter just told me I'm going to learn a few more as well, are they all going to be as easy?'

'I wish.'

Harry walked over to the chest after getting over the shock of a new language and the idea of children, and to be honest with himself it was the prospect of having children and actually living long enough to see them that knocked Harry on his arse. He knelt in front of the chest, placed his palm back on the circle, whispered the incantation he'd read in his letter and watched as the chest shrunk to the size of a deck of exploding snap playing cards. Harry picked it up and slid it into his back pocket. "Ok, Griphook, I'd like to head back to the surface please," Harry stated.

"Yes sir, I take that you understand you can remove anything you wish from this vault that is not in the form of monetary currency, gold, jewels those types of valuables?" Griphook asked.

"Yes, there isn't anything inside of the chest that even remotely resembles any of those things, but those rules no longer apply to me," he said while walking towards the vault doors.

"If you are certain Mr. Potter, may I inquire as to why you have that impression; there would be grave consequences if you were to walk past the vault doors with even a single knut?" Griphook asked confused.

"Can we discuss this back in your office?" Harry asked now standing outside the vault and waiting for Griphook to accompany him in the cart.

With the wave of his hand Griphook closed the doors to the Potter family vault, then seated himself next to Harry in the cart and started the journey back to the surface. Griphook could not begin to understand Harry's confidence that he could take anything from the vault without confidence. He was aware that Harry was nearing his sixteenth birthday, but that left a year for him to reach of age requirements in the wizarding world. It must have had something to do with the letter that Harry was reading, but it did raise Griphook's curiosity to the point where he was unable to control himself from asking- he should feel disgraced from being unable to control his desire in wanting to know about a humans thoughts or possessions, at the same time though there was something different between Harry and Griphook. Apart from giving him the knowledge of his language, Griphook still hesitated to use the word 'friend' in describing what he thought of Harry Potter.

Three quarters the distance back to the lobby, Griphook leaned towards Harry and finally asked him, "why?"

Harry just seemed to smile before he leaned back and said, "I'm free."