"So let me see if I understand correctly," Harry said. "Someone else wrote up this contract, and it will take away my magic if I don't marry ▅▅▅▅."

Griptooth nodded. "Yes, that is correct. The contract is magically binding."

"What happens if I'd never been told it existed?"

"Well… you'd lose your magic?"

"And if ▅▅▅▅ were, I don't know, imprisoned somewhere past the deadline…"

"Lose your magic."

"If she dies?"

"...You wouldn't be bound, I suppose… but you might just lose your magic."

Harry looked at the goblin flatly.

"Bullshit."

"What?" Griphook said, looking taken aback.

"Wizards are magic. They define themselves by it, especially purebloods. I'd argue they'd sooner be dead than be a squib or muggle. The idea that they'd write up an unbreakable contract forcing them to do anything that would strip magic is absurd. That doesn't even get into the implications, here."

Harry started counting off his fingers.

"Ignorance, physical inability to marry such as imprisonment, death…"

"And what, I can write up contracts that can strip the magic of any of my descendants that are inescapable? So how about one that says 'Don't be a bad person'? or even 'Don't marry muggles'? I can't see certain families passing that one up. And what is a marriage, anyway. If it is so arbitrary, you expect me to believe 'magic itself' or something cares about human concepts of marriage?"

Griphook looked very confused.

"I'll make it simple for you: I don't believe this is legitimate. And if it is, then my ancestors are really dumb for setting their descendants up to lose their magic on a dozen potential technicalities. So you and your supposed contract can fuck right off."

Harry started to walk out, then paused.

"Perhaps if you had claimed it was something more like a question of honor, or even law, I could have believed it."

He then left.

Griphook sighed. He sat there for a few minutes.

"Well, it was worth a try."