Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Fellowship of the Fox

Chapter 11 - Calm Before the strom

by Ryuuohjin 1 review

The Goblins hold a meeting, and the Skeeter writes some articles.

Category: Harry Potter - Rating: G - Genres: Fantasy - Characters: Harry - Warnings: [?] - Published: 2015-07-30 - Updated: 2015-07-30 - 3593 words

1Original
The Fellowship of the Fox
by Ryuuohjin


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Disclaimer - I do not on any way own Harry Potter or any of it's world or characters.
They all fully belong to J.K. Rowling and her affiliates.

Not completely satisfied with this chapter but don’t how make it better.


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Chapter 11 - Calm before the storm


It had been a week since Professor McGonagall's visited Hermione and her friends. Luna had already left on her trip with her father. The day after she left, the rest them returned home as well, as Hermione's parents left on their vacation. But Hermione would be spending what remained of the summer holiday with the Weasleys.

Although they only spent a day at Burrow, after that they had all moved to Grimuald Place 12.Where they discovered that time-travel didn't seem have any affect on the Fideluis Charm. As they could both see and remember the place without having to been told about it yet, this time around.


Neville had spent the time preparing for the kidnapping of his parents from St. Mungo's, by mass producing portkeys. Which he hoped would create enough chaos, to allow his parents to disappear in its midst.

They would be hidden away at Potter Manor. He decided to do kidnapping mainly of because two reasons; first they were easily accessible soft target; second was because they thought they could cure the Longbottoms of their ailments, since the healers at St. Mungo's laboured under the impression that magic could fix just about everything. Unfortunately, this also meant to them the reverse would also be true. If magic couldn't fix it then nothing could be done.

Potter Manor was chosen because it was safer location, since few remembered its location. And with the additional wards the others had added, it would much harder for anyone who sought for them.

Rhy and her sisters had kept themselves busy with preparing shop and securing the stock, now that goblins had finished warding it. It was now amongst the most heavily warded buildings in the Alley. The plan was to have the grand opening at start of next month.

Amongst the many various things they would sell was the basilisk parts, expect for meat and the two largest of its fangs which they had given to Gringotts. Products from Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes were also ordered a stock of . They had contacted Fred and George Weasley and had managed to negotiate a business deal with them. The Rasps would sell Whezzes products in their shop, and the Weasleys would get half of the profit from any sold Whezzes product. They had also come an agreement of that the Rasps would sponsor them in exchange for 5% ownership in their business.


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Ragnok looked out over the Goblins gathered in Gringotts Private Meeting room. He lifted his hand for silence and addressed them in the Goblin ancient tongue. "Goblins. We have a decision before us. Nearly two weeks ago Gringotts was contacted by a Ms. Rasp, formerly know as Mr. Potter, with a special request. She was asking Gringotts for help against Dark One. Bringing with her several documents and memories from the future. Although the agreement they had reached in future only covered that Gringotts arranged an high security vault for the Rasp's, along with help with some paperwork. " He paused for a moment to take a drink of water.

"But thanks to these we discovered that the Lestrange had stored an item believed to be corrupted by evil. I personally arranged for the vault to be checked if this was true. Several days ago, the scan revealed that indeed an object been desecrated by the Dark One, specifically housing a segment of the Dark One's polluted soul." Ragnok fell silent again as the Goblins exchanged glances and a few mutters.

"One of the Dark One's followers dared to place this abomination in our sacred vaults," Ragnok growled. "Probably on orders from the Dark One's himself. A Horcrux in our very bank, and to make it wore, the object cursed was one of the Hogwarts Founder's precious antiques!" He paused again for another ripple of angry mutters.

"It was with great regret, I ordered the object to be destroyed. We will punish them all for this, if only to give the Dark One's and his followers more trouble if he should ever try to return to power. We will wreak havoc on those fiendish followers of the monster who calls himself Voldemort," Ragnok said, with a scowl.

"Are we prepared for the possible retaliations from both the Ministry and the Dark Lord's minions?" one of goblin asked.

"We will be," Ragnok said, "If the Dark One's minions decide to be violent, the Nation will not yearn for violence on the rest of the humans, only those who serve the Dark One. If the Ministry decides to be violent in actions and not just their tongues which is a probability, we will discover if they are also sympathetic to the Dark One. If they are not, we will then decide on a proper retaliation."

"I have also been contacted by Cursebreaker Weasley on Albus Dumbeldore's behalf, for aid and to help to his Order. Specifically he requested that as the current Leader of the Light of Magic. We have never denied any request from the Leader of Light, even when we disagreed with the decision," Ragnok fell silent again as the Goblins exchanged glances and a few mutters.

"Dumbledore's 'No killing' policy is exactly why the Dark One nearly won at the end of the last war. Magical Britain was just bloody lucky Lily Potter didn't believe that and was an exceptionally bright and clever witch." someone hissed angrily.

"After reviewing both the memories and documents, as well as investigating both Ms. Rasp and Dumbeldore." Ragnok paused and took a deep breath. "It is my opinion that Ms. Rasp and her friends are the true representation of the Light of Magic. I no longer have the confidence to say the same about Albus Dumbledore."

"My is question now, shall we render the humans our aid?" Ragnok asked.

Every Goblin in the meeting room took his feet. "So decided."

"Next question to whom shall render our aid? The Light Lord and his order? Or Ms. Rasp and her friends? And what kind of shall render them?"

"Give them whatever they want," an old goblin then said." The girl is the prophesied One. It is she who will take down the Dark One."

"Yes, we will profit much from those her and her allies," another equally old goblin commented. "Any enemy of theirs is an enemy of ours!"

"All in agreement with Palkot and Taknot, to give Ms. Rasp and her friends the full support of Gringotts?" asked Ragnok.

Once again every Goblin in the meeting room took his feet. "So decided then."


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Later in the Directors office. Ragnok was sitting at his desk, going through paperwork. When a knock on the door was heard and a pair of goblins stepped in.

"Silvertongue," Ragnok said to one of them.

"Yes Ragnok?"

"Dispatch a letter to the Rasps first thing in the morning and advise them of this… development. Advise them that we shall uphold the policies and procedures set in the previous agreement. When is your next appointment with Ms. Rasp?"

"July 30th," Slivertongue replied. "Ten a.m."

Ragnok smiled, "Good. We have time to prepare."

As Silvertongue left his office, Ragnok turned to the other goblin.

"Oathbreaker, as the Head of Security I must warn you that on Monday, letters will go out to all of Voldemort's followers who are still free," Ragnok said. "They will have twenty-four hours to empty their Vaults, or they will lose everything before their Vaults are closed. I am sure there will be some... upset customers... coming into the bank following this. Be sure your security is forewarned."

"It will be done," Axehandle said, "By your leave."


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Meanwhile, elsewhere in London, on the fourth floor of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, at the Janus Thickey Ward, for long-lasting spell damage. For Neville Longbottom, this was a day he had both been looking forward to and dreading one might say his entire life or at least as long as he could remember. But the reality of it was far more recent. They had had several theories on how to cure Neville's parents in future, but with both of them dead at the time, that was all they had been theories.

Neville arrived with Ena and Kerry, along with his grandmother who were there to support him no matter the outcome. It had taken much arguing to pleading to get his grandmother to go along with this scheme. Especially since they had decided not reveal to anyone that they were from the future.

Neville hesitated to enter, as they stood outside the door to the private room where his parents now laid. While their theories was sound good and all, Neville feared that they maybe had been wrong, or maybe even made things worse.

As he entered the room finding precisely what he expected, his mum and dad in exactly the same condition as they had been for over the last decade. This state of affairs was no longer acceptable to him, not now that he knew there were possible alternatives.

While Ena and Kerry was engaging both the attending healer and Neville's grandmother in different conversations. Neville turned the patient tags around his parents wrists into timed portkeys. Which was set go off sometime during the Order meeting if everything went accordingly. Now all that was left was to wait and see.


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While Neville was visiting his parents, Rhy was busy placing the portkeys Neville had made, using the glue Luna had cooked earlier. Since most of the portkeys were either small or mundane, sometimes even both, they were barley noticeable.

She had started by roaming the countryside tagging things wild animals, vicious beasts and few trolls. She had then went to the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts, where she had tagged several of the Acumantuals. She ended her work by attaching a special portkey, which unlike rest were set to just bypass the most common wards, this one was made to shatter them. It was large metal plaque with the words;

'A present to Tom Marvoolo Riddle, from The Fellowship of the Fox. We will stop your flight from death, No matter where run and hide we'll find you."

She had attached it to the belly of a Hebridean Black (it was one of the few species of dragon native to Britain) after much ado and hassle.


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The next morning, a small girl no more than the tender age of six woke up, opening up her heavy eye lids. She sat up in the large four-poster bed complete with drapes and a canopy. She peeked around the spacious bedroom over the maroon and gold duvet. The walls were a mix of white, light blue, pink, and a bright yellow. With a luxurious plush carpet, that was a beautiful deep red with sparkling dots of gold here and there.

After stretching like a cat, she kicked her covers away and jumped off the large bed. She opened the blinds to reveal yet another bright and sunny morning. The warm sensation from the sun tickled her smooth skin as she tried to stifle a small yawn. Standing to full height, which was not much, she grinned and stretched some kinks out of her muscles. After changing into some training wear and pulling her long hair into messy ponytail at the crown of her head, held with a silver hairclip. She left for her morning run, the brisk early morning air was invigorating, and the area surrounding Potter Manor was relaxing to traverse so she made good time.

This was the beginning of her new training regime, which she had initiated after the Rasps had returned from the Grangers. After completing her run, she proceeded with doing things like splits, backflips, handstands, pushups, pullups, even training her grip strength. She worked every joint in her body to it's maximal flexibility, and exercised her visible muscles to be hard and long, as to not appear too lumpy. She then finished of her morning pass with martial arts, weapon training, which was rounded of with some zen meditation.

Once she had showered and eaten a gargantuan pile of calories for breakfast, she prepared herself for another busy day at the 'Fox Den', which was the name they had chosen for the shop.


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Hermione was sitting at breakfast, contemplating over her sausage, egg and bacon. She had quickly adapted to life in the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. Which had reached some stability for the past few days. But she couldn't say that it had become peaceful. She could still see the chaos associated with magic. A screaming portrait, a slightly deranged elf muttering to himself, the twins popping out of nowhere, the explosions in their room, all of it had become normal for her.

But reason she contemplative this morning was no other than this mornings edition of the Daily Prophet. Which had quickly become quite a topic around the table this morning.

Cornelius Fudge: An incompetent coward or a sly Death Eater?
By: Rita Skeeeter

The Life and Lies of Boy-Who-Lived. An Up and Personal Interview with Harry Potter.
By: Rita Skeeter

Was blazed boldly right across the front page, with and articles that was just as bold. In the first article Skeeter never outright accused the Minister of anything, but was hinting and insinuating great a lot, and painted him as either an easily bought idiot without a spine, or a cunning Death with hidden agenda.

In the other article Skeeter seemed have used the memories they had given her, as exclusive interview. It talk about the Dursleys and how they treated him, it talk about Hogwarts and the adventures he and his friends had experienced there. The article ended with the questions of why it seemed no one know of the adventures he spoke about, and why no one had the he been abused.





Skeeter had really done well with information we gave her, Hermione thought as she read the articles.


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Cornelius Fudge, British Minister of Magic, was not a happy minister. He sat at his desk with the towering form of Amelia Bones looking over at him. She had just entered his office and thrown down various files on his desk. He had opened two of the folders and paled at what he had discovered. He was sweating with nerves and feeling a cold dread forming in the pit of his stomach, as his bones felt like they wouldn't stop shaking. The more he read the worse he felt, he may not be the minister much longer if this came out.

He had felt good when he arrived at work this morning. Yesterday he had decided to give a spontaneous speech before the citizenry at Diagon Alley. He had looked around the crowd as he waited for the reporters to show up so he could start. He hadn't been able to stop himself from feeling contempt for the gathered sheep, which thanks to the blathering of Dumbledore and the whining of that brat Potter were beginning to lose their faith in him.

He was sure that the story about You-Know-Who returning from the dead, was just an attempt to destabilize him. A vile plot concocted by Dumbledore- who wanted his job, he always have. But he was Cornelius Fudge, and he refused to fall for such an obvious scheme. He had gained the full
backing of his friend Luscious Malfoy and his undersecretary Dolores Umbrigde on this, so he couldn't be wrong.

What he needed now was a distraction to tarnish the name of one of his tormentors and restore the confidence of the sheep in his noble personage, and foil this vile plot in its wake.

He had planned to use Potter, it had seemed perfect, after the boy had been dumb enough to be tricked into tell such an obvious lie. But Potter wouldn't do so long as he remained hidden, what he needed was either a way to drive Potter out of hiding or a way to blame Dumbledore for the boy's actions.

His good mood had fell as he receive his copies of the Daily Prophet with the morning mail.

By time he had read it the Minister almost had an panic attack. He could literally feel how his popularity plummeted and his chances for being re-elected crashed and burned, unless something was done quickly. He was just about to call his undersecretary for help, when there were two
sharp raps on the door then it opened before he had the chance to respond.

Fudge turned his chair to find himself sitting in front of Amelia Bones. He hated this woman, she was always causing trouble, especially with her constant whining over budget cuts to her department.


“Just person I wanted to see. This is an outrage! Take every Auror you have and close down the Prophet.” the Minister almost yelled as threw newspaper on the table.

“Minister, we can't do that. By the Prophet's press charter, this article is clearly within the letter
of the law.” Amelia Bones stated. She had enjoyed the article, but she enjoyed the purplish complexion of the Minister even more. The spittle, however, she could do without.

"On another note, I have found something you need to take a look at." She then said and handed the
Minister the folders she had been carrying.



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Albus Dumbledore frowned, sitting behind his desk, twiddling his wand between his fingers. He had a massive headache, mostly from trying to figure out how, when and where his missing charge, Harry Potter, had disappeared too. Setting his wand again on top of his desk, he began to carefully massage his temples, for what had to be the eleventh time that afternoon. It's been week since they discovered Harry had gone missing. His visit at the Dursleys had gained him nothing, except the urge to curse and swear at the Dursleys.

He had been forced to stun Harry's aunt and uncle before he could talk to them. As an extra measure he petrified all but their heads before he woke them up. What had followed was an endless stream of screams, cries and insults, especially from Harry's Uncle. After enduring several minutes of this he silenced both them. He then resorted to legimancy to find out what wanted.

What he had seen had shocked him, it had even disturbed him. How was he supposed to know that Dursleys were really that bad to him? He thought that Harry just didn't get along with them because he was too different, being a magical and all. While he had heard how the Dursleys had treated Harry, he had always dismissed them as exaggeration or misconceptions. He couldn't fathom how anyone could treat a child, much less one that was of ones owns blood, so poorly.

The magical world didn't have child abuse – well it did but it was kept so well hidden that it was nearly an urban legend. Dumbeldore now regretted ever leaving Harry there, and perhaps he should have heeded Minerva's warnings about the Dursleys.

But the Dursleys memories was conclusive, and showed no signs of tampering. Harry had never meet the Dursleys after the term ended. After getting what he had left the Dursleys still silenced and petrified on their carpet. It was least he could do for how they had treated their nephew, the spells would wear eventually. But he did take that toy snitch back with him.

But still this couldn't be happening. The world needed Harry especially now, when Voldemort have returned. He needed to destroy Voldemort once and for all, like the prophecy foretold. Now what does he do?

Albus started to pace up and down his office, jumpy as the proverbial cat on a hot tin roof. He could remember his decision to place Harry with the Dursley family, and why had he had chosen them. But he couldn't remember why it had been a good idea to never check up on his progress with
them. He could remember everything but the very thing he was trying to understand. He couldn't remember why.

Dumbeldore momentarily stopped and glanced at his desk, two letters laid on it both stamped by
Gringotts with return to sender. It seems all Harry's post was being passed through Gringotts before it reached him. And any letter with any charms or curses were being sent back. Harry had even somehow managed emancipated himself, and put the Potter vaults under lockdown. All without anyone seeing him enter or leave Gringotts, or even Diagon Alley. And Tom ,the barkeeper and owner of Leaky Cauldron, hadn't seen a hide or hair of him either.

He had no solid proof of this at the moment, but to do all this without anyone noticing would require help. Dumbeldore suspected it was the goblins that was the helper, but he needed proof. The goblins was another thing that perplexed him. For decades he have been trying to form an alliance with the Goblins, all to no avail. But if he was right, it seemed that Harry had somehow managed that.

Albus was drawn from his thoughts when an owl carrying the Prophet arrived.

Oh great, another headache, he thought as read the front page.


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TBC

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