"The International Confederation of Wizards is sure to deal with Dumbledore once we raid Flamel's compound," Barchoke said tersely. "They're sure to get to the bottom of why he did it."
'Dumbledore is mine , ' Barchoke inwardly raged.
He didn't like the thought of his prize being snatched away by someone else but while the old man sat on his wrinkly butt at Hogwarts or at the Ministry he couldn't be touched. Barchoke couldn't even kill the man inside the walls of Gringotts without sparking an inter-governmental incident that might trigger another war.
Lester had been carefully setting up what promised to be a solid case for the boy which would drag Dumbledore's name through the dirt. Add that to this latest revelation about his plot to spirit the Sorcerer's Stone away from Gringotts and it would certainly light his legacy on fire. That wasn't enough though; it didn't reach the level of personal satisfaction Barchoke had been waiting for all this time.
Once Dumbledore was taken then perhaps he could travel to Geneva, bribe the I.C.W. guards that held the man, and slash his throat knowing that even if he followed soon afterwards that vengeance had been served.… Or perhaps he should just poke Lester to get on with what he was doing, accept he had done his best, regrow his hair, go about making a few Acquisitions with Trixie, and settle down to quietly run Gringotts for the next decade or two. But why did that feel like failure?
"R-raid it?" the shocked Minister asked. "The I.C.W. is coming here? Why wasn't I informed? We have plenty of Aurors and Hit Wizards we could use for the job."
Barchoke almost groaned; the idiot didn't even know he was being informed when he was being informed. He had been hoping they wouldn't hit this snag but that relied on the wizards actually knowing their own history, and these people seemed to revel in the thought that nothing existed before the day they were born. Still, some of the tiny details weren't well known even among his kind, fastidious about these things as they are. By luck, his suggestion yesterday to bring in the I.C.W. for the raid had actually turned out to have been required based on one interpretation of the Agreement.
"This is in no way intended to be a slight against your Ministry, Minister" he said cordially, lying through his teeth. The last thing they wanted was the Ministry mucking things up. "This protocol was established by the Flamel Agreement between the Goblin Nation - as it existed at that time - and the Federation of Warlocks, the international organization that grew to become the International Confederation of Wizards some two hundred years later.
"The Wizards' Council which governed the magical affairs of England at the time," Barchoke explained, "was the predecessor of your own Ministry of Magic and a signatory on the treaty, as was the Wizards' Council which did the same for the Kingdom of Scotland."
"But there is no Kingdom of Scotland," the Minister said with a confused look on his face.
"There once was but records indicate it was dissolved in 1707 when the two countries merged to form Great Britain," Barchoke continued. "Both Wizards' Councils were disbanded and their seats incorporated to form the modern Wizengamot."
'The modern Wizengamot you still exclude us from while you deign to give us rules to live by even though we know more about your world than you do, ' the Overseer thought sourly.
"Less than three hundred years ago?" Minister Fudge blinked at him. "No, that won't do at all," he said, scratching down notes with a quill. "We'll have to change that so it's always been like it is now. We don't want them thinking they could go off and survive on their own without us to tell them what to do. What would they do without us?"
'Live in a world of lollipops and moonbeams where the streets are paved with gold and cats are fat and plentiful, ' Barchoke thought derisively.
Sometimes he wondered why his people wanted to be a part of the Wizengamot at all. If the modern magical morons were content to let these idiots to rule over them then so be it. Maybe his people would be better off moving to Ireland and learning to dance a jig like a breed of enormous leprechauns. If only goblins could so cheerfully erase hundreds of years of history like these wizards were content to do then perhaps he could propose the Irish Option without having his head end up on a pike. Since that was impossible, Barchoke continued to try to get through this meeting.
"As signatories and interested nations bordering Gringotts and Flamel's proposed compound, you were entitled to notification about the breach within one day of our learning of it so you could take appropriate steps to safeguard the value of your currencies," he said patiently. "This is why I'm here today and have provided you with the list of our recommendations," Barchoke pointed to the parchment he provided. "However, since the danger Flamel posed was international in scope," he concluded, "the Agreement stipulated that oversight into the investigation and prosecution of any violators would be in the hands of the Federation of Warlocks - or its inheritor organization, the I.C.W."
"Ah! I see," Minister Fudge said happily, seeming to understand that the whole affair could be settled without him having to do anything himself.
"When it comes to the raid itself, the I.C.W. has been most accommodating," Barchoke smiled.
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