POV of Rakhtaruk, Manager of Gringotts.
Rakhtaruk sat in his office, lost in thought. In human terms, his title could be translated as "Director of Gringotts." But wizards could never quite figure it out—was he the ruler of the goblins, or just a bank employee?
Once, a very long time ago, the goblins were a completely different people.
The thing is, unlike wizards, goblins are truly magical creatures. A goblin without magic dies, whereas a wizard without magic can live on.
The fundamental difference between goblins and wizards isn't just that goblin magic is different. Wizards praise their own magic, and it's true—a goblin fighting a wizard is like bringing a knife to a sword fight. But in many cases, especially in artifact creation, goblin magic proves to be far superior.
The main distinction lies elsewhere. Certain metals can accumulate what, for simplicity's sake, we'll call a "trace of magic." And this "trace," practically undetectable to wizards and utterly useless to them, is an additional source of sustenance for goblins. It doesn't let them cast better spells, no, it's something much better—it lets them live longer.
So, to live longer, a goblin simply needs to periodically come into contact with precious metals and collect this "trace." And if it's not just precious metals, but items crafted with magic from them—even better.
As if to spite them, wizards made their money from gold and silver! Fools! They could have used cocoa beans! Or anything else, even their own skulls! Or do as the Muggles do—use paper.
Every treasure not in goblin hands is a loss of goblin lifespan!
At first, the goblins considered telling the humans about this, but humans are greedy and treacherous. They wouldn't want to share the gold and other metals, to choose a different, perfectly liquid medium of exchange. No matter how many times goblins tried to introduce banknotes into the magical world, it always failed, running up against counterfeiters and other fraudsters.
So, the goblins made a logical decision: war. For years, goblins waged war against humans, hiding the source of their life in their underground vaults. Sometimes they lost, sometimes they won, but overall, the balance remained positive—goblins gained more time than they lost.
Particularly irritating was the human habit of keeping goblin-made items after their owners' deaths. For you, it's just a shiny trinket! But for the creator, and to a lesser extent their descendants, it's an especially valuable source of the "trace."
The wars between wizards and goblins probably would have gone on forever.
But Ragnuk the Great solved the problem. After losing yet another conflict with the wizards, he had an epiphany. Why take the gold from humans by force? All they had to do was create conditions where the humans themselves would bring adamantite, mithril, gold, silver, and items made from these materials to them!
And so, the goblin bank was created. Its primary function is to increase the lifespan of its owners, staff, and their families. Its secondary function is to mask its true purpose with banking operations. We don't lie. We truly have the most secure vaults and the best interest rates.
Of course, there were goblins who preferred the old ways. But over the years, their numbers dwindled, as their methods couldn't compete with Gringotts. Thus arose the best bank in the magical world, which in many places managed to become a monopoly.
Gringotts was involved in more than just that. Precious metals had a strange effect not only on goblins but also on dragons. If old legends and extrapolated results were to be believed, a dragon that spends a long time near a huge pile of gold becomes sentient. The problem is, it needs the "trace" for this, and the goblins are unwilling to share. Attempts to create a sentient dragon without the "trace" have failed; the best existing experimental subject, a Ukrainian Ironbelly, is only as intelligent as a snake communicating with a Parselmouth.
Since Rakhtaruk is a direct descendant of Ragnuk the First, the Great and Wise, father of all goblins, the Sword of Ragnuk is not just a piece of metal to him. Yes, it was made long ago. But it carries so many enchantments! The sword is in his office now, and it will take several months to draw out the "trace" from it—this will extend his life by at least a third.
The current ruler of Magical Britain had turned out to be a very promising client. He may not have killed any of the goblins' enemies, but the amount of money he deposited in the bank was staggering! Both personally and through his servants.
No traces of racism or megalomania, typical of his predecessors, were found in the current Dark Lord. He was someone they could do business with.
The goblins were paid four million Galleons for the right to expand the Ministry of Magic deeper underground—and the goblins' claims to that space were far from certain. They negotiated a deal to assist with the excavation for the Ministry's expansion for three million, with the prospect of a similar contract later.
For another two million Galleons, they agreed to help dig under London in search of Tlaltecuhtli. They would have "dug long and unsuccessfully" and found nothing, but the new Dark Lord—though what kind of Dark Lord is he, really—promised an extra five million if they found Tlaltecuhtli and handed it over to him... So it was worth a real search. Or perhaps worth making a Tlaltecuhtli... The contract was worded ambiguously—it was unclear if the five million was for a Tlaltecuhtli, or for each one...
Gringotts always paid special attention to security. In its entire history, it had been robbed twice.
The first time... let's not dwell on sad things. It was a very long time ago, at the dawn of Gringotts. That wizard was too powerful, and they couldn't stop him.
The second time... two hundred and forty-seven years ago... One of the Dark Lords, upon coming to power, became far too engrossed in racism. And we are goblins, not house-elves!
Yet he and his inner circle kept their gold in Gringotts. Stupidity? Pride? Arrogance? A loss of touch with reality?
Soon, a certain rebel was guided to a brilliant idea—rob Gringotts and deprive the tyrant of his funds. Unfortunately, they could only find a... completely mentally deficient rebel.
It was indescribably difficult to remove all the obstacles from his path—they practically rolled out a red carpet for him. But he nearly botched the whole thing. It never occurred to the goblins, even in their worst nightmares, that he wouldn't have a plan for how to get out of Gringotts with many cubic meters of valuables... They had to send their tamed dragon to help him drag the gold to his base, but the so-called thief didn't understand a thing! Not even later, when no reward was offered for his head after the successful robbery of Gringotts!
The rebel used the stolen money to hire mercenaries, who overthrew the tyrant. And the mercenaries deposited their money... in Gringotts.
The situation now was different. First, someone had melted the contents of the Lestrange vault into a single lump. While the volume of materials hadn't changed, a ton of gold and a ton of enchanted gold items are very different things from the perspective of "trace" accumulation.
The current ruler of Magical Britain tried to connect this to Albus Dumbledore. But there was no proof.
And then... Albus Dumbledore himself appeared before them and destroyed the contents of an entire vault! Not stole—destroyed! Despite all security measures!
The contents... Besides money and valuables, several tons of processed adamantite were lost, albeit slightly tainted by foreign necromancy. That was at least a year of life for about three hundred thousand goblins!
And the guards... In the first Gringotts robbery, the guards died. There are no complaints against them—they did everything they could, their families received compensation, and the fallen themselves were declared heroes.
In the second case, the guards were following orders—no one needed to be punished.
But now... More than a thousand stunned goblins! Guards who were neutralized despite their artifacts.
According to goblin customs and their laws, the punishment for such a failure is death. All these goblins would have to be executed! And he would have to personally chop off their heads with his sword. The situation was complicated by the fact that among them was his own son... He only had two sons left! And he had placed such high hopes on his eldest!
And he would have to inform all the families of the fallen—dismissed posthumously in disgrace.
Cursed Albus Dumbledore... And to think of all the money he kept outside of Gringotts... The saying is true—like a manticore in the hay.
He understood—this was all a consequence of the conflict between two great wizards. But if Dumbledore threw a stone at the Dark Lord, and the stone hit Gringotts, who is to blame? Gringotts? The Dark Lord? The one who threw the stone is to blame! The one because of whom they lost treasures and will lose goblins!
No, Gringotts would not declare war on Dumbledore. Wars are for fools.
Gringotts wouldn't even declare a bounty on Dumbledore's head—a bounty has already been declared, though not by them.
He knew one thing for sure: in any war, the most important thing is money.
He burned the letter from Dumbledore, in which he offered to compensate for the losses and expressed regret that he couldn't reach a peaceful agreement. We are not your house-elves. And you cannot bring my son back to me.
The Council would support his initiative—there was no reason to deny his project's approval. He sat down to write the order:
"All gold and other precious metals held by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore are the result of temporary transfiguration and cannot be used as a means of payment."
This needed to be communicated to the wizards. Would that be enough? I'm afraid not, Rakhtaruk thought.
He pulled a report from the goblin master smiths out of his desk.
"The client known as 'Voldemort' has ordered a series of blades capable of piercing magical defenses and killing Albus Dumbledore. Based on the number of blades and the fact that no hilts are required, it can be assumed that he plans to strike simultaneously from all sides by transfiguring his body and luring the enemy into a trap. The client's approximate requirements for the blades are attached. Particular attention should be paid to the fact that the client respects goblin property rights and does not require the sale of the items, but agrees to lease them for a time. He also informs us that he is immortal and therefore agrees to never purchase our artifacts, but only to lease them for a pre-agreed period."
Their new regular client was an unusual wizard—an ordinary one, knowing he was immortal, would have bought up goblin-made items. And would have given the goblins an incentive to wish for his death... But now, the enemy of their enemy was offering to pay for weapons that would be used to eliminate their enemy, and then return the items to them.
Among goblins, it's simple: the better the craftsman, the better his creations, the longer he lives. And he was the best.
It had been a long time since he had given any of his own creations to humans... True, the client requested them without hilts... It was time to stand at the forge.
End of POV of Rakhtaruk, Manager of Gringotts.
I sat at my desk and rejoiced. Everything had gone well. Albus had overcome another Horcrux, but in doing so, he had only dug his own grave deeper. I had found common ground with the goblins—it was expensive, true, but I hoped it would be worth it. Albus was now bankrupt, no matter how much gold he had.
On the other hand, things were bad—Albus had destroyed the fifth Horcrux. And I had nothing in reserve! But I would figure out what to turn into a Horcrux and how to hide it: I still had two more in reserve before reaching the seven Tom had mentioned to Horace.
I would personally protect the last Horcruxes, because in an hour and a half, the final stage of achieving my immortality would be complete.
For now, just to lift my spirits, I should read the newspapers.
I really enjoyed the coverage of the events at Gringotts. I just want to pull quotes from it:
"On the very edge of the uninhabited world… Lived an old, outcast wizard… Gray-haired with an unseeing gaze… He was condemned, he was exiled in shame, out of vengeance he made an Unbreakable Vow. In the secret chambers of his headquarters, among thousands of forbidden books… He slowly moved towards his goal… All his power, his wisdom and knowledge… He decided to direct towards one thing… Weaving spells with a wrinkled hand, clutching the Wand that directs Death, he pushed Magical Britain straight to the bottom… Despising all traditions of Light Magic, he created a super-being… He decided to use a skeleton as the base, soaked in his own blood with mithril… In a fit of madness, on the verge of senility, inspiration flowed, the skeleton was tempered by Black Flame… And Darkness was frightened, and Light retreated, but there was no more day for him. The new golem was given unprecedented power, a breath of Hellfire. And gathering different magics into one, Albus Dumbledore created a monolith. Savoring lemon drops, he covered the creation with layers of adamantine armor plates… And he made Chaos the soul of the creation…"
That's it, I can't read any more of this. Chaos—the soul of the creation? Why not honesty or love? How can you use an abstract noun as a sacrifice for animating a golem?
But the style isn't bad. I love freedom of speech. The only thing better than freedom of speech is the courts. I suggest to all who are dissatisfied to go to court. The nerve—to complain about me to me? So that I can then judge myself, punish myself, and guard myself?
I think the goblins won't demand a retraction—it's all logical, a madman made a super-golem to rob Gringotts. And no one is to blame. Except Albus.
A wonderful newspaper—and it's not even "The Quibbler"! By the way, I'll have to figure out how to integrate Pandora Lovegood into magical society—I feel sorry for her and don't want to kill her, as she is not dangerous and possesses a valuable inherited gift, but at the same time, she has seen too much.
But that's for later: it's time for me to get to work. Immortality won't make itself.