Negotiations with the Goblins

Practice makes perfect.

Harry grabbed her mischievous hand and quickly kissed it.

Her little hands smelled wonderful and were very soft; her skin was delicate and fair, and they felt especially nice to touch her lips.

Caught off guard by this sudden attack, Veratia patted Harry on the shoulder, both amused and exasperated.

She was about to say something when there was a knock on the office door.

"Come in." Veratia immediately withdrew her hand, turned and walked towards the desk, instantly regaining her usual upright posture.

The door opened, Cassandra walked in. She was wearing a neat robe, her long, pale blonde hair was neatly tied back, and she had a scrutinizing expression on her face.

Her gaze lingered on Harry for a moment, her eyes sweeping sharply over his slightly disheveled hair and his shirt, which was not yet completely smooth, before settling on Veratia's face, a half-smile playing on her lips.

"Oh," she said sarcastically, "I hope I didn't interrupt some crucial strategic meeting."

Cassandra's tone was flat, but she pronounced the words "strategy meeting" with exceptional clarity.

"We've been waiting for you to join us, Cass." Veratia said calmly, gesturing to the armchair beside her. "Sit down. Would you like something to drink? Would you like some black tea?"

Cassandra sat down gracefully, her gaze still lingering between the two of them. Even without her speaking, Harry could smell the strong scent of jealousy emanating from her.

"Black tea is fine—I already know the news from America. Narcissa heard some rumors from Lucius; they were vivid and interesting."

Harry went to the tea cabinet by the fireplace to pour tea, feeling Cassandra's gaze make him feel uneasy.

He then placed a steaming cup of black tea on the coffee table in front of her.

Cassandra picked up her teacup and gently blew on it. "Lucius's message was cryptic, but he hinted that the Dark Lord is fascinated by ancient powers, and that the Goblin seems to possess the key to certain places. Their attack on the Ministry of Magic wasn't just a show of force or to plunder something; it was more like a test of some kind of synergistic power, and a search for fragments of a map."

"A map?" Veratia and Harry both became alert at the same time.

"It's just a metaphor," Cassandra sipped her tea. "It could be a guide, a coordinate, or a ritual condition for opening a certain place. Lucius believes their real goal might not be in America, nor necessarily in Britain right now. Rather, it might be some intermediate zone, or an ancient secret place, that requires specific conditions to enter."

At this point, Cassandra glanced at Harry.

"I also have to thank Potter for not exterminating the Death Eater, which allowed Lucius to obtain some firsthand intelligence from his former colleagues."

"Oh, my colleague says so." Veratia smiled at Harry, their understanding unspoken.

Cassandra's forehead veins throbbed at the sight.

"Lucius contacted some old connections in North America, some who were dissatisfied with the current state of the Ministry of Magic, or simply afraid that they would be the next targets. They were willing to provide limited information and assistance, but needed stronger assurances that Europe would not react as slowly as the America."

"I guarantee I can provide it," Veratia said firmly. "The specific channels and methods will need to be coordinated by the Malfoy family; safety comes first."

"Understood." Cassandra paused, her gaze drifting back to Harry, this time with a hint of teasing. "So, how's your special training going? I heard from Draco that Hogwarts is even using Dementor as teaching aids lately? Your teaching style is getting more and more creative."

"Thank you for the compliment." Harry accepted Cassandra's praise without hesitation.

"Your shamelessness is quite creative," Cassandra scoffed, setting down her teacup, but couldn't hide the subtle smile in her eyes.

She stood up, walked to the window, turned her back to the two of them, and looked out at the night view of the Ministry of Magic's courtyard.

Veratia walked around the desk, went to Cassandra's side, and gently touched her arm.

"Cass."

Cassandra didn't turn around.

"Um?"

Before she could say anything more, Veratia had already wrapped her arms around Cassandra's slender waist and pulled her into her embrace.

Cassandra was clearly caught off guard and didn't realize what was happening until she was firmly held in her arms.

"Hey, what are you doing, Grindelwald? Let go—"

"Hahaha." Harry laughed heartlessly beside him.

"It's perfect that you're here too," Veratia whispered in Cassandra's ear. "Don't rush back tonight. It's been almost two months since the three of us last saw each other, hasn't it?"

"Who wants to meet you—" Cassandra insisted.

Veratia turned around, nodded at Harry with her chin, and gestured for him to come over.

Harry walked over and found himself in the arms of two beautiful bodies.

"As your boyfriend, you should hold us tight," Veratia whispered.

The night outside the window remained deep, the Alps shrouded in darkness, filled with a tranquil atmosphere.

Now that we've finished discussing the important matters, it's time to get down to business.

----(omitting 10,000 words)

Two days later, Diagon Alley, London.

Harry went alone to Diagon Alley Gringotts.

He walked straight to the manager's office, completely ignoring the whispers of the Goblin around him after they saw him.

The office door opened automatically, and behind the long table sat several members of the Gringotts High Council.

The one in the lead was Gringotts manager Scad, and next to him was Bodric, whose signature cross-eyed eyes were fixed on Harry, his fingers nervously tapping the table.

It's not that he has a problem with Harry, but rather that he's a little nervous when he's around Harry.

nervous?

Take a deep breath; it's normal to feel nervous.

There were a few others Harry wasn't very familiar with, but they were clearly powerful Goblin.

"Mr. Potter," Scad said without any pleasantries, "Gringotts welcomes all its distinguished clients, but today's meeting doesn't seem to be about vault business?"

"Indeed not, Mr. Griphook." Harry calmly walked to the table, not sitting down, his gaze sweeping over every Goblin present. "I'm here for a name— Runcorn."

The moment the name was uttered, several Goblin tensed up almost imperceptibly.

"We've heard about the unfortunate events in America," Bodric snapped, trying to seize the initiative. "The union of an out-of-control Goblin and a dark wizard is truly regrettable—but what does that have to do with Gringotts, with the Goblin's legitimate business?"

"The point is," Harry leaned forward slightly, placing his hands on the polished table, his tone steady yet weighty, "that Runcorn has returned, carrying with him a deep hatred for modern wizarding society, especially for its symbols of order— Gringotts, for example. Standing beside him is Tom Riddle, a Dark Wizard similarly scorns all rules and believes only in his own power. Do you really think that once they've achieved their goal, Tom Riddle will allow a Goblin power that controls the financial lifeline of the wizarding world to continue to exist?"

"Gringotts has a long history and a strong covenant; we have coexisted with the wizarding world for a long time," a strange Goblin said in a deep voice, but his confidence didn't seem very strong.

"A contract?" Harry repeated the word softly, a smileless curve to his lips. "Tom doesn't value contracts like you do."

"Tom?" another Goblin suddenly spoke up, "Mr. Potter, who is this Tom Riddle? We don't seem to have heard of him before—"

"Oh, he certainly doesn't use that name much," Harry smiled at the Goblin, "But his other name should be somewhat well-known, you should have heard of it— Voldemort, you know?"

Clearly, the name Voldemort is far more terrifying than his mother, Runcorn.

At least Runcorn was Goblin, but what about Voldemort?

That's a cardamom fanatic!

Seeing the Goblin fall silent, Harry nodded.

"Moreover, not only Tom, but even Runcorn cannot tolerate your existence."

"He only sees betrayal. Just think about how he'll view you fellow countrymen who wear human suits, are adept at calculating interest, and dine with wizard Minister?"

These words hit the nail on the head.

The members of the Goblin Council looked even more grim. They knew all too well that Runcorn represented an extreme retro and xenophobic ideology, which was incompatible with Gringotts' pragmatic and profit-driven philosophy of survival.

"You're spreading alarmist rumors, Mr. Potter," an Goblin said, straightening his posture. "You're trying to sow discord among us."

"Sowing discord?" Harry straightened up and looked around at them. "I'm stating a fact you all know. Goblin society is not monolithic, as it was a hundred years ago. Certainly, a portion of it, especially the younger Goblin who are dissatisfied with the status quo and yearn for more radical change, has begun to see Runcorn as a hero and a beacon of hope. Gringotts ' authority is being challenged from within."

He paused for a moment.

"I'm not here to command you," he said again. "I've defeated Runcorn, and Voldemort has fallen to me six times over. I believe you are all intelligent enough to know where the ultimate victor lies."

A brief silence fell over the conference room, broken only by the occasional crackling of the flames in the fireplace.

Scad and Bodric exchanged a glance, and the other board members also slightly adjusted their posture.

"Six times," Bodric repeated, his cross-eyed eyes seemingly trying to focus on Harry's face, yet involuntarily drifting elsewhere. "I believe in your abilities, Mr. Potter, but can you guarantee Gringotts will be protected from these two madmen?"

"Our enemies are not just the two of them. Runcorn has demonstrated more than just destructive power in North America; he has also shown a kind of charisma, Awakening something within us."

At this point, Harry glanced around.

"Some are deeply dissatisfied with Gringotts' current covenant, viewing it as a betrayal of the ancient Goblin' honor. Can you really guarantee that the next unusual noise from the depths of Gringotts' vaults is merely some greedy wizard attempting to break through the Protective Charm, or will it be Peter from within?"

Yes, in the British wizarding world today, "Peter" has become synonymous with traitor, just like Judas in the mouths of Muggle.

Clearly, the word "internal" caused several furrows to appear on Manager Scad's forehead.

"Gringotts ' security has withstood the test of a thousand years, Mr. Potter," Scad began slowly. "We have strict vetting and constraints on the loyalty of our employees."

"Restraints?" Harry laughed as if he'd heard a joke. "You're talking to me about restraints? Restraints are for binding honest people, not for traitors with ulterior motives! You should know better than I how tempting it is for some Goblin that Runcorn wants to create a Goblin paradise."

Another silence fell.

Harry is right; some Goblin do not like these shiny gold coins, and they crave something else.

"But even if it were true," an Goblin Grot's voice rang out, "What can you and Ms. Grindelwald offer? More protection? But that means more oversight and less autonomy. Why should we believe that driving away a wolf won't bring in a lion trying to wear sheep's clothing?"

"It's not protection, Mr. Grot," Harry shook his head, his tone serious. "It's cooperation, cooperation based on shared interests."

He swept his light over each council member, and the Goblin council members were also staring at him.

"We share a common interest: to ensure that we are not harmed by the madmen Runcorn and Voldemort."

Bodric and Scad exchanged a glance, then sat up straight and leaned forward slightly.

Could you elaborate on your collaboration? What does Gringotts need to do, and what will you do for Gringotts?

"It's simple." Harry nodded. "First, information sharing. We need to communicate in real time about everything that Runcorn and his followers are doing, the intelligence Gringotts has, and the intelligence we have. This will help you identify internal risks in advance and also help us predict their objectives."

The Goblin exchanged glances and all nodded.

This request wasn't unreasonable; in their view, it was acceptable.

"I believe that some of you here experienced what happened a hundred years ago," Harry said with a smile. "1891..."

On the first day of School Opening at Hogwarts that year, Ms. Grindelwald encountered Runcorn's ambush in Gringotts —as you probably know, Gringotts's vault contains the treasures Runcorn covets.

Upon hearing Harry's words, the Goblin ' expressions changed.

Almost instantly, they realized the danger of the situation.

It was no secret that the vault contained Ancient Magic artifacts, and they knew Harry certainly knew about it.

But they had just forgotten that Runcorn also coveted the power of Ancient Magic.

Just think about it, what can they do when Runcorn sets his sights on Gringotts?

Should they seek refuge with Runcorn?

That's obviously unlikely; Runcorn is cruel, a fact well known to the Goblin of Gringotts.