"Sometimes your word will draw you to aid someone, and sometimes it pushes you further away."

-Lily Evans Potter

Harry James Potter had Apparated into the English countryside, where he slept for the night, counting on randominity to protect him.

In the morning, after oversleeping the sun, he rose, and apparated directly into Knockturn Alley. More specifically a Knockturn Alley alley. He slipped to the edge of it, looking out into the street, and started. Rapidly, he ran back a few feet, slipped out of his muggle clothes, and clambered into his wizarding robes. He poured water from the tip of his wand and used to alter his hair, giving him slightly more control over the disaster area.

It took a few minutes, but he cleaned his face and arranged his fringe to cover his scar. Concentrating on a different persona, since he was still unable to master the disillusionment charm, he stepped out. Miraculously, no one noticed him. His trunks and sword were still in his pocket, so he walked meaningfully towards the Diagon entrance.

Though he would have given anything to avoid that particular street, he desperately needed to visit Gringott's, and would have to make do. It had been a long time since he had walked down the bustling street with the throng of students and parents hurrying about trying to purchase everything they needed for the upcoming year.

He was not certain why he had ever missed it.

Under his breath he began to converse with his relatives. "Sirius, I think that you may have died just to get a bit of revenge on me. I'm not sure what I did to deserve it, but I am sure that I would have dragged you along to this interminable hell. This has to be revenge of some form." A woman walked by with a child bawling at her side for a second ice cream cone. "Mum, I hope I was never like that. However, if I was I would like to very humbly apologize for it. If I wasn't then I'd like to congratulate you on raising me well."

He wasn't almost to the bank, having exuded a dominant, alpha male presence, when the last voice he wanted to hear rang out.

"Mr. Potter!"

Simpering, he turned to stare directly into giddy eyes the faced him. They were still surrounded by the same bejeweled glasses.

"Ms. Skeeter." He said formally, giving her a small inclination of the head.

A crowd began to gather, and Rita looked thrilled. Somehow her Quick-Quote-Quill was already out. "Would you be willing to answer a few brief questions Mr. Potter?"

"No, I wouldn't." He turned and was met with a veritable wall of shoppers, staring intently at him. Cursing mentally, and hissing physically, he turned back to the reporter. "You may have one question, Skeeter." Harry said icily.

She beamed as though she had counted on it. The Quick-Quotes-Quill was already onto a second piece of parchment.

"How does it feel to betray the whole of the Wizarding world by becoming loyal to your parents' murderer?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. The madly scribbling quill, and the parchment it was on, burst into flame. "Rita," He said politely, ignoring the gasps from the crowd, "I guarantee – I promise you – that the second I 'betray the whole of the Wizarding world by becoming loyal to my parents' murderer,' I will immediately give you an exclusive interview. Unfortunately, you will, as of now, not be receiving the rights for any such interview, since I have done no such crime."

His glare parted the crowd and he walked composedly up the Gringott's steps.

"That was not smart, Harry, not at all." He berated himself. Sirius' happy laugh filled his ears.

The doors opened for him, and he paused at the entrance, but no one inside recognized him. Suddenly hopeful, he walked to the counter, and spoke with the wizened, tired Goblin. "I'd like to make a withdrawal please, sir."

The Goblin kept its head down as it wrote on a long ledger. "Your key." Harry set it on the counter. "Vault number?"

"Three hundred and ten."

"Your name?"

"Harry James Potter."

It caught the Goblin's attention. His head came up rapidly, and his tired eyes were suddenly intent. If Harry had not been clinging to his mask of cool indifference like a lifeline, he would have laughed at the reaction. The small Goblin's face was entirely different than what he had ever seen on anyone or anything.

Wizards revered him. Well, now they blindly hated him, but at first they had revered him.

House elves rarely met their eyes, and when they did it was with an awestruck glazed look.

Centaurs flatly disliked him, and considered him worse than the scum beneath their hooves.

Giants, outside of Hagrid at least, had never had a chance to know him.

The same was true for the Merfolk, since only a few had seen him in the Second Task.

Aragog and his kin, starving as they were, had even held a form of respect for him because he was willing to walk into their lair to help a friend.

But the Goblin in front of him was entirely new. Most Goblins had disregarded him in the past, but this one, and for that, the ones on either side were staring at him with a desperate hope and those he could see seemed ready to jump for joy.

The Goblin swallowed. "I wonder, Mr. Potter, if you might have time to speak with a few of my coworkers while you are here? We can send someone for your gold, if it would be more convenient, but we would greatly appreciate the chance to meet with you."

Harry's world was now tinted emerald again, and the automatic distrust of all others was beginning to set in once more.

"Certainly, Master…" He waited for the Goblin to answer.

"Icefoot."

"Very well then, Master Icefoot, will we be able to do this somewhere more private?"

Nodding, the Goblin led him away, behind the desks and towards what seemed to be a plain wall. A finger was rung along the edge and a door appeared. Walking down the ornate hallway, Harry shouted inside his head.

Very nice. Bloody Wonderful. Now I am stuck trying to…negotiate… with the Goblins, when I know nothing about them, know nothing about what they want, know nothing about negotiation, and am no longer certain as to what the hell it is I am doing at the moment. What the bloody effing hell did I do to deserve this one? Huh? Sirius, are you sure didn't curse me before I left at Christmas? Dad, Mum, were either of you convicts in a past life? Is that why I am being punished like this now?

Icefoot bowed him into a room and Harry tried to compose himself.

It took only a few seconds before the fireplace at one end of the room flared blue, and a procession of Goblins stepped out. Seven exactly. Harry gave a small nod to each of them, while his mind screamed in confused frustration.

"I am terribly sorry to make you wait like that, Mr. Potter, but we unfortunately did not have any warning." The leader of them, a largish, clearly powerful one, said professionally.

"Not a problem. May I ask why you wanted to speak to me?"

The Goblin smiled, which succeeded in both comforting and terrifying the wizard. "I understand that…forgive me, let us sit, and do this as it should be done."

"But there's no…" A table rose from the ground at the press of a button, and Harry lamely finished, "…table."

It was oddly shaped, curved on one side, enough room for seven, and a second side that narrowed to leave room for only him. It was the perfect distance, Harry realized absently, between the addresser and the addressee. Not uncomfortable to either extreme.

As he sat, he said, "I should inform you that the Wizarding world, both the Ministry and that run by Albus Dumbledore, have made public declarations against me. Even meeting with me like this will put your loyalties in question."

"We understand that perfectly, it is in fact, one of the reasons we wished to speak to you." Harry was taken aback, both by the answer by how very formal and polite the creatures were.

These were the beings that had spent hundreds of years as Wizarding scapegoats?

Harry found himself incapable of a coherent answer.

They continued in his stead. "Our own loyalties have been in question far longer than your own, Mr. Potter. In fact, the instant that Ministry hears of any dark activity, the Goblins are treated as the lowest form of scum. We lose those few rights that we do have, and those that we retain are often bent. We Goblins have been involved in nearly every conflict with Dark Wizards since the dawn of the millennia, and it is our hope to aid Wizards in this one. However, the blunderings at the Ministry have left us in a position where it would be nearly impossible to have any impact."

Harry interrupted when the Goblin took a breath to say, "I'm sorry, but I am rather uncomfortable with this meeting—" He did not pause but despair was evident on each of the Goblins' faces before he could finish, "—so long as I do not know your names. I would very much like to be able to properly address you, seeing as you how you are being so well mannered towards me."

The lead Goblin smiled again; this time Harry was less disturbed. "My name is Grapple Stonepick. As to the remainder, Gorn Restfoot, Og Cudgelminded, Lugel the Lucky, Morga Hammerblow, Ergla Plainleg, and I believe you have met Griphook Flatface there." Icefoot had slipped out earlier. "Does that help to ease your mind, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes it does Master Stonepick."

"If it is not a problem to you, would it be possible for us all to be referred to by our given names?"

Harry stopped, confused beyond belief, and suddenly wishing that he had listened in History of Magic. A dull headache was beginning behind his eyes, and not from the present business. "I'm sorry, I don't understand what you mean. Given names?"

The Goblins murmured in their own tongue, but Harry was relieved to identify their tone as amused. "I believe that your History of Magic course is supposed to explain the Goblin society." Griphook said with an almost coy look.

It helped Harry to relax, "There, you see, is the problem; it has been years since I have actually listened to my History of Magic teacher. It is possible that he explained it, but unfortunately I never heard. Would you mind explaining?" Harry was enjoying speaking with them despite his growing headache. They were a wonderful blend of frankness and subtlety, hostility and beauty, patience and impulsiveness.

Og Cudgelminded explained in a voice far higher than Harry had expected. "At birth we are given a name that later becomes the equivalent of a first name. The term is easily derived, it is our literally, 'given name.' Our second name is called our justified name. It is the one we earn through our lives. They are based on are actions. Mine comes from a certain confrontation in which I was unfortunately thinking about a particularly fine cudgel I was considering purchasing. It distracted me enough that I lost the bout. A friend, after hearing the story, gave me my name.

"It is considered, though, a measure of trust, and respect to refer to someone by their given name as it honors one's mother."

Harry smiled, "Then please call me Harry, Og." Smiles broke around the room in response. "However, I believe before I got us sidetracked that we were discussing your hopes to impact this war."

Harry's mind was alternating between a dull confused throb and a rapid, complex network. Flashes of information he half remembered were rising to the surface, and with each new bit that made him a fraction more comfortable in the situations, his headache grew.

"Yes," Grapple said, "Yes, what I had been going to say is that the Goblins have convened and have come to this decision; we will be involved in this War, and we want to now know who is best to side with."

"Well, first, I recommend the side against Voldemort." Harry noted that none of them flinched. "Why did you come to me, though?"

"Harry, that is why we are having this meeting. The Ministry has never treated us fairly, and we doubt that Lord Voldemort would either considering the maniac's ideals, but we have survived a great deal and wish to be on the side we most agree with."

"I don't understand."

"After this war ends, should you succeed and survive, you will hold a great deal of power, and an unprecedented ability to make changes in the world. The whole world."

Harry suddenly smirked in understanding, "And you want to know where I stand."

"Yes."

"What do you want to know?"

Lugel began, "Recently we were contacted by a house elf by the name of Dobby. Normally we…dislike…house elves for their willing enslavement, but after he explained how you had set him free and how he insisted on pay, we began to think, and inquire. You have made a rather large impact in the past few years, Harry. Would we be able to confirm a few of the rumors we have heard?"

Harry nodded as his headache flared, the world was abruptly a sickly gray.

"In your first year at Hogwarts you were attacked by a form of the Dark Lord, correct?" Harry nodded, "I apologize, but we do greatly appreciate you answering these." He paused, "In your second you held regular conversations with a ghost, met an overly large, sentient spider, discovered you were a parseltongue, encountered house elves, dueled, fought an overly large, sentient snake, destroyed the living memory of the man controlling the snake, and rescued a friend's sister?"

It certainly sounds like a lot when it's just listed like that, doesn't it, Padfoot? He nodded, trying to suppress the pounding in his head. It slowly lessened as he mentally fought it down.

"Your third year you were taught by a Werewolf were you not?"

"I was. He was one of my father's best friends, and he taught me the Patronous Charm."

"Did your opinion of him change when you found out about his state as a lycanthrope?"

"No." He said coldly.

"This is where rumor begins, Harry. We have heard that you used an illegal time turner to save the life of a Magical Creature and also to save the life of a murderer."

"No."

"You didn't?"

"Not what I meant. I meant that Sirius was not a murderer."

"Could you please explain that further?"

Harry suppressed the remainder of the pain, and started. "Sirius was originally planned to be the Secret Keeper for my parents, however, at the last moment he convinced them that they would be even safer if they used someone that no one else would suspect. They chose another of their school friends, who unfortunately betrayed them. Sirius would have very much liked to be a murderer and made a good effort at it. He had every intention of killing Peter. Peter decided that it was his best bet to disappear rather than duel, so he transformed into a rat, after cutting off his finger, and after killing the muggles in the street with him. Then my Godfather was sent to Azkaban without a trial. I did help him escape Hogwarts though." Harry added brightly at the end.

"In your fourth year, you were enrolled in the triwizard tournament where you fought a dragon, rescued your friend from the merfolk, communicated illegally with the aforementioned innocent convict, witnessed the murder of your fellow champion, witnessed the return of Voldemort, dueled with Voldemort, escaped with the body of your fallen companion, were harassed by the media, mentally attacked by Voldemort throughout the year, attended the Quidditch World Cup, were nearly killed by Bartimus Crouch Jr, won the Triwizard tournament, and gave the money to friends so that they could start a joke shop?"

Harry nearly blushed, but remained composed enough to respond with a silky, "It was a busy year. Yes, all of it was true."

There were a few seconds of silence, as the Goblins stared, and Harry dreaded the explanation of the fifth year.

"I would really rather not—"

"Don't worry, I am not going to ask about your fifth year. I would merely like to know two simple things. First, our of curiosity did you actually found a Defense Association, and second, how did your OWLS go?"

Harry smirked, "I most certainly did teach the DA, but it was a friend," He used the term only because he could not come up with a better, "who began it. As to my OWLs, I received five. Charms, Transfiguration, Care of Magical Creatures, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Care of Magical Creatures. I am continuing other subjects, but I received Outstanding in each of those."

"Congratulations." Grapple said amusedly. "I believe Harry, that we may have arrived at a decision."

"About?"

"The side that we will take in this War." All the Goblins around him smiled, and Harry knew before it was said; they would fight Voldemort. "We will not however pledge our help to either the Ministry or to Albus Dumbledore." Harry's heart sank as he made a second prediction. "But we will pledge it to you. The Goblins will help you Harry."

"Did I convince you to—"

"No, actually," Morga said, "Most had decided that after the Dobby's testimony. I had never met so vehement an elf. This was merely to confirm a few of the more staunch believers, and to verify a prophecy in our own history."

What Prophecy?

Harry almost asked, but decided that it would be better to not, after all, prophecies could be powerful, and he wanted as little to do with them as possible.

They rose opposite him, and he mimicked them, but as abruptly collapsed back into the chair after a flash of memory. He could not remember when, where or with who, but remembered what was important. They stared at him oddly, but he smiled and acted as though all was well.

A button on the wall was pressed and Icefoot reentered with a small bag in hand.

"I apologize, you were here to make a withdrawal, and we stole your morning, is there anything you need?" Grapple asked formally.

"There were a few things…" Harry removed a small slip of parchment he had charmed to his own eyes. Icefoot stepped forward and gestured for the list.

As Harry relinquished it, he charmed it to the Goblin's eyes as well. A quick scan and the Goblin nodded. "All of this can be done easily. Would you like it sent to you? There would be no charge for delivery since we did rob you of your time."

"Thank you. It sounds wonderful. Can you locate me without my telling you where I will be? I am not sure myself yet."

"Not a problem at all." Icefoot bowed, and Harry returned it, spun, and walked from the room.

>=====<

The eight Goblins waited as chairs rose from the ground once more. They sat, and stared at each other until the silence was painful. Lugoch Icefoot grinned broadly, "Do you believe the rumors now, Og?"

"Yes I do." Og paused uncharacteristically, "The Goblins go to war." His voice was devoid of any breath of question.

"Yes, but not until he does. We go to war." All eight waited a few moments, then Lugoch growled, "If you plan on stepping out Wizard, now would be highly appreciated."

Severus Snape reappeared from the wall. "Do you plan on holding to our arrangement?"

"Unlike some races, Goblins keep their word. Do you plan on holding to our arrangement?"

"I already have Master Icefoot. You have not been targeted yet, and will not for several more years."

"It will hold?"

"Yes."

"Then the Goblins will be going to War on another day. We will not pledge allegiance to Harry."

Severus smirked, "How do you plan to honor your word about 'helping' him?"

"That is exactly what we are doing. Good day Sir."

>=====<

Harry walked out of the bank with only a dull headache remaining, and trying to think of a place where he could hide. So far, he had found nothing. Deep within his musing, he did not notice the blonde step from a door, and ran directly into him.

Both boys sneered viciously. "Malfoy."

"Potter."

"Joined any Dark Lord's lately?"

"I could the same of you, at least according to the papers."

"You have no need. You are the son of a Death Eater, couldn't he answer that?"

"Actually, Gryffindor, I am the son of an escaped convict, and that makes all the difference in the world." Malfoy flung him aside by the shoulder and disappeared into the throng.

Shaking his head, Harry finally cleared it. The only place that Wizards would never look for another wizard had occurred to him.

Proud of himself, he strode towards the Leaky Cauldron and Muggle London.