Vernon and Harry sat at a table where all the books they (or rather Harry) had managed to find on magical law were arranged in neat stacks. In reality, such publications in "pure form" practically didn't exist, so they had to search for crumbs of knowledge mostly in various historical books and even wizards' biographies. And then they worked for several days straight to compile this into a unified system. Harry had even temporarily forgotten about weapons and animagus exercises, which nearly disappointed Dudley in his cousin.
The problem was that the obtained data couldn't be unified in any way: some contradicted others, some seemed to explain something, others confused matters. But still, they had more or less figured out how to behave in the bank and how to communicate with goblins. True, Harry was disappointed in his hope that his uncle would accompany him at least as an adult relative.
"Goblins don't respect wizards partly because of what they consider too slow development: their own children become adults starting from ten years old," shared Mr. Dursley, showing his nephew one of the latest bookmarks.
"So by their standards, I'm already... quite adult?" Harry was surprised.
"If you were a goblin, then yes. Although I don't think they'll expect something... adult from you, they've probably been working for years. And it's unlikely a novice will be dealing with you. By the way, they don't perceive Muggles at all. So if you go alone, ask the right questions and behave demonstrating maturity by their standards, you'll win in their eyes. True, I can't judge how important this is, but it might work in your favor. In any case, it shouldn't make things worse."
"Maybe I should take a notebook with me? In case I forget something important."
"Good idea," Vernon confirmed, opened the desk drawer and took out a thick leather organizer. "Here, take it."
"This... for me?! But you only give these to key clients?" he was confused.
Uncle patted him on the shoulder:
"People judge by appearance. Look, it's specially for banking affairs. Your toothy horrors should appreciate it. See, here you keep records of expenses, here - income, here - balance, in the upper left block - write interest rates, and instead of a calculator, since nothing electronic works there, we'll insert these counting beads. Or better an abacus?"
Playing with the amber beads of the abacus that shimmered in the light, Harry promised himself to definitely thank his uncle. And immediately sighed heavily: it seemed childhood was ending, finally and irrevocably...
***
The massive oak doors closed silently behind him.
"May your treasures multiply," Harry raised his open palms up and spread them in the proper greeting gesture.
The guard clerk looked attentively at the wizard boy who had dared to appear completely alone and somehow knew, albeit only partially, their traditions, and grinned toothily:
"What about wishing death to our enemies?"
"To all wizards, you mean? And myself too? Am I completely stupid?" Harry shrugged, and a spark of interest seemed to flicker in the goblin guard's eyes.
"Please proceed, Mr. Potter."
"May I see the Potters' attorney?"
The goblin snorted:
"Since your father died - the last competent member of the family - that position has been abolished."
"So... Actually expected," thought Harry. "And what now? Hire a new one? And I'll probably have to somehow prove my competence? Oh, why didn't I die when I was little..." But he puzzled the approaching clerk by saying he was going to hire an attorney. The goblin, examining Harry like some unknown insect, thoughtfully chewed his lips, then invited him into the office.
"First of all, you must prove that you understand what you're doing and what might result from your actions. So, why do you need your own attorney and how much do you estimate his services?"
"Well, time to turn on genius mode," thought Harry, adopting a business-like appearance and making an almost Malfoy-like arrogant face. "Nothing, I've practiced, I can handle it."
"I need an attorney to manage assets..."
Harry noticed the clerk's rising eyebrows - who had introduced himself as Blordak - and quickly added:
"And most importantly, to invest at least half of the available sum."
"Why do you need this?" the goblin's eyebrows were already trying to camouflage his baldness, and quite successfully.
"Emergency fund. A 'safety cushion,' so to speak... You know I grew up with Muggles, well they have such..."
"Thank you, I'm aware. I meant, what do you need investments for?"
Harry in turn stared at the goblin in surprise.
"Money doesn't seem to multiply just by lying around..."
"Are you interested in passive income?"
"Aren't you?"
Blordak's grin could make all the Whomping Willows envious at once.
"Excellent. Regarding the evaluation of the attorney's work... will ten percent of profit suit?"
"Depends on who you plan to hire."
"And how much does a good specialist cost?"
"Are you sure you need one?"
"Either I risk my money, or Gringotts Bank risks its reputation, right? It so happened that I'm quite well-known in the magical world, however much I might sometimes want the opposite."
"...Twenty percent. That's the official price."
"Agreed. Let's have the contract. Did I understand correctly that you're taking on this work?"
The goblin nodded concentratedly, filling in something in the documents.
When the contract was signed, Harry asked about the key and immediately received it. Apparently, during the last visit Mrs. Weasley had been told to leave it at the bank. "This is definitely a plus," he decided to himself.
"Did I understand correctly that my competence has been proven?"
The goblin nodded, looking surprised at how the boy opened an expensive and quite solid organizer, entering numbers there. No, he didn't know this Harry Potter. But... his identity was verified by all the bank's systems. Had some spells fallen off him? It's unfortunate that now there's nothing to compare with... But who would allow themselves to curse or bewitch the Boy-Who-Lived?!
"And... you're not going to take money from the vault?"
"No, I'd like to convert this into galleons," Harry laid a fairly thick wallet on the table containing those very "money that doesn't smell," "and open a personal deposit. And I also wanted to know if there are amulets, books and other valuables in the vault that only the family heir can use."
"There are," the goblin nodded calmly. "But until you come of age, you can't dispose of them."
"And... can I at least look at them?"
"You can, of course, but what's the point? Satisfy curiosity? It will cost you... let's say, one of the amulets."
"What?!" Harry's eyes widened. "Damn, goblins really fleece you. Or is this only with poor illiterate orphans?" flashed through his head. "No, thank you, maybe later."
"Reasonable," the goblin dropped indifferently.
"Either there's something there they really want to get their hands on," thought Harry, remembering his favorite detective stories, "or this old codger just doesn't feel like taking an extra ride on the cart... Eh, I won't find out anyway, too bad..."
"What can you tell me about this?" Harry pushed the page with the remaining questions that he and his uncle had prepared toward his attorney. He was tired of communicating with these cunning creatures, after all, he was just a teenager, not... But anger forced him to pull himself together, strain out smart words and behave like... like Malfoy, probably, yes.
"What does the bank have to do with this, young man?" the goblin raised his eyes after carefully reading everything, and Harry wanted to hit him with something. "Family matters and genealogy questions - that's for the Ministry archive. Property matters, including real estate - to the corresponding department there too. A banking attorney is not an executor, I dare say."
"And if I hire them, can goblins deal with this?"
"Why should we? We are," he grinned quite maliciously, "your enemies, as you noted."
"Well, not my personal ones and, most importantly, not enemies of my money? Especially considering that you'll get part of it..."
Blordak almost choked on air. How could this youngster figure it all out?! And Harry continued:
"For example, to rent out real estate... or sell it. To win more, preparation might be needed: repairs, furniture replacement and so on..."
"Thirty percent."
Harry shrugged and nodded unhurriedly.
"Thirty it is. Yes, that's quite a lot. But... the miser pays twice, as uncle used to say. If I can be confident in the new attorney, so be it. Oh... does this mean I just hired him for work? Right now?.. Whoa..."
"Are you really thirteen years old, young wizard?"
"Will be in two weeks."
"Hmm... Why are you interested in goblin services specifically?"
"You're professionals."
"You've bought me, young man," the goblin's tone was sufficiently impassive, but the way Blordak stood up and bowed... spoke volumes!
Harry had read about this! He jumped up, barely restraining the same stone face, and bowed back, confirming his statement of intent. That's it. There's no way back. And in a few seconds he already allowed himself to smile broadly: the goblins had a standard contract for property managers after all. So... They had tricked him. Although... He'll still learn from these rogues!
"Am I right to think that involving other workers, for example, to clarify matters with real estate and other family property, will come from the sum we've already agreed upon?"
The goblin grinned widely.
"Trying to get back at least a piece? Yes, if we need services of other specialists, believe me, we'll figure it out ourselves without involving additional funds. Do you have more questions?"
"Of course. How often will reports about... movement of funds be available, and can I get a checkbook..." "Otherwise, running to the bank every time while studying at school is unrealistic, and filling pockets full of galleons isn't great either - my pants will fall down, damn!"
"So you are planning to spend after all..."
Harry squinted angrily:
"Could you tell me where I should better apply with a statement that I'm being denied the right to pay for quality medical care?"
"What are you saying? Who's denying you?!" Blordak actually choked and coughed, covering himself with his hand with very long strong fingers.
"Nice manicure," thought Harry. "You could dissect with those... No knife needed, no scalpel - just your own ten, precious ones." He was already tired of maintaining the facade of adulthood, wanted to explode and... say a lot of things. But he held on. And continued, as if hammering nails, as uncle said when he was very angry at his workers (Harry had once seen how this happened when Mr. Dursley took him to work).
"So what do you think, why should I suffer from poor eyesight? And because of this study worse, because I see poorly and my eyes get tired quickly? Ah, I shouldn't... Then how much will I have to pay at St. Mungo's for vision restoration, well, for starters at least for an examination? For free? Come on," Harry inserted one of uncle's phrases, "only the sun shines for free, and even that not always..."
"But your guardian... Shouldn't he take care of this?"
"Who is my guardian?"
"What?!.. Are you joking? You really don't know?" the goblin's face was already so purple you could probably light a cigarette from it. "Albus Dumbledore!"
Harry slightly froze. And then quietly and persistently asked:
"And... can I see the documents about this? The guardian should have dealings with the bank?"
"Of course... Monthly sum, accrued... I'll leave you briefly," Blordak left and soon returned with such a puzzled face that Harry never expected to see on a goblin.
There were no documents. There weren't even those who remembered what they looked like...
"What do you mean?" Harry politely inquired. He already liked how the goblins started to behave. Just like people, even similar to Dudley when his aunt catches him red-handed... If anything, he already had interesting material for the "Prophet" in his pocket, so to speak.
"If only a Ministry inquiry..."
"I'm only interested in banking documents about guardianship. If you lost them, what does the Ministry have to do with it?"
The attorney was throwing up his hands and practically clucking. He was joined, by the way, by a couple more goblins, apparently from the bank's management. Harry was beginning to feel avenged, but it was too early to relax.
"So, there's no guardian?"
"Emmm. There should be."
"Well, sorry, no documents - no fact," Harry felt that he was finally getting lucky and was going to use this to the fullest. "And in general... Is a guardian mandatory? I was reading..."
The goblins watched warily as Harry leafed through the organizer notebook...
"Ah, here. You had, er, and we had one story, at the end of the century before last, when a wizard's guardian after the sudden death of his relatives from some terrible disease was recognized as his Muggle wet nurse. This is, you'll agree, a precedent."
"Do you have a candidate?"
"Of course I do. My blood uncle. Or aunt. But she's a woman with character, keep in mind."
"Guardians can be appointed by the Wizengamot..."
Harry squinted. He had accumulated quite a few questions for the chairman of this glorious organization, but the more there were, the less he wanted to ask them... And in general, what, does the Supreme Court of all Britain have nothing better to do than deal with family squabbles of little wizards? What, does the Wizengamot appoint guardians to every orphan, or does this only concern his unfortunate scarred head? This is what he voiced. The goblins thought. There were many precedents, but taking responsibility for decisions about this little hero, damn him... ah, no, the sums there are considerable... they can't do without him. They'll have to do something. They need Potter, including as an heir. And the boy is definitely... no slouch.
"Maybe still make an inquiry?.."
Harry thought. Actually, it would be nice to check.
"Just don't involve me. Make an inquiry for some internal banking audit or something..."
The goblins nodded like Chinese dolls, and one of them immediately left.
Harry continued leafing through the notebook.
"And here's something even more interesting... The last of the family... affairs transferred to the full management of 'Gringotts,' and no Wizengamots, by the way... Appointment of monthly maintenance in the amount of seventy galleons, bank percentage... client percentage... ah yes, when allocating a sum of more than seventy galleons, a personal application with justification of the expense is required... Perhaps this will suit me."
The one who made the inquiry returned, with an even more sour expression.
"Not there either?" the goblins and Harry inquired almost in unison.
Looking at the clerk throwing up his hands, Potter felt almost happy.
"There you go," he again rummaged in the notebook, "sample commission, sample contract... By the way, the attorney-guardian then found it possible to combine work in these two positions for a quarter of the income sum... And was called a confidant. Good word, don't you think?"
"Where did you dig all this up, Mr. Potter?" exhaled the bank manager, Vrav... Garv... (Harry's brain was already a bit fuzzy) Gringotts, naturally.
"Read it in books..."
"And where did you get these undoubtedly interesting books?"
"Don't you have such ones? Did I tell you something new?" Harry feigned surprise and suddenly sharply changed his tone. "I don't believe it."
"Ahem... Are you by any chance a student of Filius Flitwick?"
"A student..." he saw how the goblins perked up, and decided to clarify, "like all Hogwarts students."
"That is, you are not a personal student?"
"You can do that too? Thank you, I'll definitely think about it."
The quiet exhale of his future manager told the boy that he was definitely on the right track. That's it, as soon as he's at Hogwarts...
"But what about the books?"
"What about them? Just bought them at a clearance sale. And there my relatives and I studied them. Uncle says it's a very interesting system. By the way, respected goblin gentlemen, we've talked enough for a wonderful article in the 'Daily Prophet,' don't you think?.."
"What if Harry Potter accidentally... falls out of the cart?"
"Will he get in? Especially considering that he absolutely wasn't planning to go to the vault, and before visiting such a respected bank he did send several letters, for example, to friends - the Weasleys, Longbottom and quite accidentally - to his dean?"
"Mr. Potter has passed the test. Gringotts Bank employee Blordak will give him a personal unbreakable vow," the manager ordered.
And Blordak... was beaming. Harry even wanted to rub his eyes. Where was his snobbery? Where was the disparaging and at the same time appraising look? Where did this detached-indifferent appearance go? What was happening at all?!