21 Gringotts
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Hey there! A lot of people have been asking about this, and I want to shed a bit of light on this subject. To be honest, I'd rather not say it, but I shall. The name of the novel, and thus the system, is one of the biggest foreshadowings of the novel. There. I hope that makes it clearer now. It's not a major spoiler, won't change anything, but yeah, I feel like it would be better left unsaid. But I also understand it might sound a bit out of place.
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As they finished their ice cream in silence, Harry pondered the next phase of his plan. He needed to explore Diagon Alley further, particularly the possibility of accessing the Evans family's potential magical resources. This could be the key to unlocking more about his mother's past and perhaps even gaining a degree of independence from the Dursleys.
After leaving the ice cream parlor, Petunia suggested a brief walk through Diagon Alley. The street was bustling with witches and wizards going about their business, the air filled with the chatter of magical commerce and the occasional whoosh of a passing owl. Petunia walked with an air of cautious curiosity, her gaze lingering on the various shop windows displaying magical wares and artifacts.
Harry, seizing the opportunity, guided her towards Gringotts, the wizarding bank. "Aunt Petunia, I've been thinking. If there's any record of the Evans family here, it would be in Gringotts. Maybe we could learn something about Mum's side of the family."
Petunia's question caught Harry off guard. "How do you know that place?" she asked, eyeing him with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. Harry cursed inwardly. 'Shit,' he thought. He had to think fast to avoid arousing further suspicion. Quickly, he replied, "I overheard people talking as we passed by, Aunt Petunia." He then cast his gaze downward, adding, "It's a skill I picked up at home. I had to understand Uncle Vernon's mood from his mutterings."
Petunia's expression softened at this, a flicker of guilt passing over her features as she was reminded of the years of neglect and mistreatment Harry had endured under their roof. Sighing, she conceded, "Okay. There's no harm in asking."
Harry felt a surge of relief. His plan was working. As they approached the imposing façade of Gringotts, the goblin-run bank, two new quests completed notifications popped up in his mind. Nigel, ever the dry observer in his mental landscape, reported, "Quest: Gradually introduce the idea of the magical world to Aunt Petunia in a positive light. Rewards: 40 points. Increases Aunt Petunia's openness to magic. Strategy: Share stories of Lily's magical experiences, emphasizing the wonder and beauty of magic."
"And," Nigel continued, his tone suggesting a smirk, "Quest: Emotional Alchemy. Objective: Transform Aunt Petunia's fear and resentment into curiosity. Rewards: 50 points. Opens new dialogues about magic and family history. Strategy: Gently challenge her beliefs, present magic as a bridge rather than a barrier between them. Two Quests Completed!"
Harry nodded to himself, acknowledging Nigel's update. They stepped into Gringotts, the cool interior of the bank a stark contrast to the bustling warmth of Diagon Alley. The goblins, perched behind their counters, eyed them with a blend of indifference and faint curiosity.
Petunia clung to Harry's arm, her usual bravado diminished in the face of the goblin bankers. Harry approached a counter, his heart pounding.
To the collective astonishment of everyone present, including Petunia and the goblin banker, Harry greeted the goblin in fluent Gobbledegook. "May your vaults gleam with the treasures of ages, and may the rivers of your enemies' blood flow as crimson as molten gold beneath the moon's gaze." The goblin, visibly intrigued and pleased by this show of respect in their native tongue, "May our coffers overflow and our foes tremble, as the rivers of their blood run deep and swift beneath the night's shadow." The exchange, though brief, seemed to set a tone of mutual respect between Harry and the goblin.
Petunia, wide-eyed, leaned closer to Harry and whispered, "Since when do you speak... whatever that was?"
Harry, with a shrug that belied his inner pride, replied, "Must be innate talent, Aunty." The goblin, overhearing this, let out a grunt that could have been interpreted as amusement.
Nigel, observing the scene, commented in Harry's mind, "Well, well, Master Harry, a linguist and a diplomat. I dare say your talents are as varied as a Niffler's hoard."
Ignoring Nigel's quip, Harry turned his attention back to the goblin. "Sir, I was hoping to inquire about the Evans family. My mother, Lily Evans, might have had an account or some connection here. Her sister, Petunia Evans is here to do the bloodtest."
Harry, fluent in Gobbledegook, spoke to the goblin banker in the goblin language, leaving Aunt Petunia bewildered. Despite her growing acceptance of the magical world, the sight of goblins still unsettled her, and hearing Harry effortlessly converse in their native tongue was both impressive and disconcerting. As the word 'freak' almost slipped out, she caught herself, remembering she was no longer Vernon's wife bound by his prejudices, but Lily's sister, exploring a part of her family's past.
The goblin, intrigued by Harry's linguistic prowess, responded in kind, their conversation flowing smoothly. Petunia, standing a bit uncomfortably next to Harry, was a mixture of awe and discomfort. Harry, sensing her unease, gently squeezed her hand, a silent reassurance that all was well.
After a brief exchange, Harry turned to Petunia, explaining, "I asked about Mum's family, the Evans. I'm trying to find out if they had any connections here at Gringotts."
Petunia nodded, still processing the surreal experience of standing in a goblin bank, a world away from the mundane life of Privet Drive. "Did they say anything?" she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity.
Harry nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. "Blood never lies," he affirmed. "That's what he said. They will test our blood to see if we have any magical ancestry." Petunia, though apprehensive, silently agreed. The goblin at the desk rang a bell, and another goblin quickly appeared. "Take our guests for the blood test," instructed the first goblin.
As they were about to be escorted away, Harry leaned forward, allowing his hair to shift and reveal his scar, hidden until now. In fluent Gobbledegook, he asked the goblin, "Is it possible to omit a certain bloodline from the reports?"
The goblin's eyes flicked to Harry's scar, a smirk crossing his face. "No worries. If you don't touch that vault, we will not report anyone." Harry exhaled a sigh of relief and nodded, allowing the new goblin to lead them away.
The walk to the testing room was short. Inside, they were greeted by another goblin. Harry once again addressed him in Gobbledegook, "May your coffers shine with boundless riches, and your enemies cower in fear as their blood flows like a crimson river"
The goblin responded, his voice gruff but respectful, "And may your days be filled with prosperity, as your adversaries meet their fate in rivers of crimson fury."
The goblin snapped his fingers, and a thick, ancient-looking rule book materialized on the desk. He opened it to a specific page and began to read the rules aloud in a clear, authoritative voice.
"Rule One: The blood test shall be conducted in a controlled environment, ensuring no external magical influence can alter the results. Rule Two: All participants must willingly provide a blood sample; coercion or deceit invalidates the test. Rule Three: The blood's magical lineage will be traced back so long as the bloodgiver has droop of lineage. Any magical ancestry beyond this is deemed irrelevant for the purpose of the test. Rule Four: The results shall be confidential, disclosed only to those who partake in the test and any other parties they designate. Rule Five: Any attempt to tamper with or manipulate the test or its results will be met with severe penalties, as per Gringotts' policy."
As the goblin finished reading, he looked up at Harry and Petunia, his expression unreadable. "Do you agree to these terms?" he asked in a stern tone.
Harry nodded, a sense of gravity settling over him. "We agree," he said solemnly, glancing at Petunia, who nodded in affirmation.
The goblin then greeted Harry and Petunia, his voice softening slightly. "Welcome to Gringotts, the most secure place for all your magical and financial needs. My name is Glimmergob Snicklenook."
In response, Harry, fluent in Gobbledegook, replied, "May your vaults be impregnable, and your wealth flourish beyond the ages, Master Glimmergob Snicklenook" The goblin nodded in appreciation of Harry's respect for their customs.
Petunia, still processing the surreal experience, whispered to Harry, "What did you say?"
Harry, suppressing a smirk, translated, "Just a formal greeting, Aunt Petunia. Goblins appreciate it when you respect their culture."
Nigel, observing the scene, couldn't help but interject in Harry's mind, "And here I thought your charm only extended to the human species. Seems you're quite the goblin whisperer too, Master Harry."
The goblin gestured for them to follow him to a small, austere room where the blood test would be conducted. Inside, a simple wooden table and two chairs were the only furnishings. The goblin produced a small, sharp instrument resembling a dagger.
"This will only take a moment," he assured them. "A drop of blood from each of you will suffice."
Harry offered his finger first, bravely enduring the quick prick of the blade. A single drop of blood fell into a small crystal vial. The goblin then turned to Petunia, who hesitated for a moment before extending her finger. As her blood dripped into a separate vial, joining the one with Harry's at the goblin's side, he sealed both with stoppers, and uttered a series of incantations in Gobbledegook.
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