Title: Gringott's Lesser Known Branch

Rating: G – with the possibility of going up

Summary: Few in the Wizarding world have a true understanding of the inner structure of the Goblin Nation or its corporate representative to the wizarding community, Gringott's Bank, much less any clue about how far they will go to protect their investments.

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"The tenth inescapable rule of existence – a tarnished sickle still weighs the same."

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Gringott's Lesser Known Bank, 7

Having collected the remainder of the supplies from their list, the Gringott's Wards met back at the spot they had parted and turned toward their last destination: Madam Malkins; though not without some balking.

This was the least necessary requirement of their unwanted shopping trip – as Gringott's customarily supplied their wardrobe at much lower prices and higher quality than they could expect to pay from the merchant. Only one irksome detail prevented this - the final line of their shopping list:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

UNIFORM

First-year students will require:

1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)

2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupils' clothes must carry the Hogwart's Academy Coat of Arms, licensed solely to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.

… And judging from the way that the potion master's eyebrows rose at that requirement, Harry immediately realized that it was yet one more item the Headmaster intended to manipulate. For what reason, Harry couldn't yet guess, but knowing how great a gossip Madam Malkin tended to be on her frequent visits to Gringotts, it was more than enough to be irritating.

The last thing that Harry wanted was to be put on display as a feather in the Headmaster's cap, but at the moment, he couldn't see any way to extricate himself and his charges from the unnecessary trip.

So with a glance to his charges, Harry steeled himself to enter Madam Malkin's shop thankful that he wasn't alone, and trying to hide the feeling of nervous watchfulness that had come over him on the realization that the Headmaster's agenda controlled their trip.

Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve.

"Hogwarts, dear?" she said, when Harry started to speak. "Got the lot here – another young man being fitted up just now, in fact."

In the back of the shop, a boy with a pale, freckled face and knut-copper hair was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes. Madam Malkin stood Harry on a stool next to him, slipped a long robe over his head, and began to pin it to the right length.

"Hello," said the boy, "Hogwarts, too?"

"Yes," said Harry.

"Dad's next door with my brother's buying my books, and mother's up the street looking at wands," said the boy. "She was gonna stay here, but Madam Malkin told 'er there wasn't much trouble I could get into with her pinning me up as she is."

His tone was petulant and a bored, seeming to resent the fact that he couldn't cause trouble, and Harry took an instant dislike to his attitude, remembering – unpleasantly- how much his cousin had liked to cause trouble.

"Then we're going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. Fred and George already have theirs, being on the Quidditch Team and all; Percy too. Doesn't seem right that I can't. I wish I could bully my dad into getting me one, and we could smuggle it in somehow. My brother's are great at smuggling things."

The boy's blatant disrespect for the rules and his father set Harry's nerves on edge: he was strongly reminded of Dudley.

"Have you got your own broom?" the boy went on.

"No," said Harry answered shortly. He had taken the mandatory flying lessons in addition to his cart training, but the frivolous pass time – while enjoyable - offered little towards his accounts.

"Play Quidditch at all?"

"No," Harry said again, wondering what on earth the appeal of Quidditch could be. The goblins did have competitive sports (cart races, fencing, beast dodging and riding), but they all had the added value of developing skills that would benefit their occupations.

"I do – Dad says it'll be a crime if I'm Gin and I aren't picked to play for my house, our whole family have played, even Perce – second year- before he got caught up in the books. Know what house you'll be in yet?"

"No," said Harry, feeling more irritated by the minute.

"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Gryffindor, all our family have been – imagine being in Hufflepuff, or worse, Slytherin, I think I'd leave if I got sorted into Slytherin, wouldn't you?"

"Mmm," said Harry, wishing the boy would move on to another tract or at least say something a bit more interesting. Coronae Magister Magia, Manager Griphook, and he had already thoroughly discussed his house choices as had his charges and their particular managers. While it was a little known fact, and even less advertised, the Goblins had been pleased to inform them that the sorting hat could be overridden by student request, especially if and when the student could offer a reasoned argument for the house of his choosing. So far, everyone but Neville had decided on their house choice.

"Hey, look at that man, the one staring in at us!" said the boy suddenly, nodding toward the front window."Looks like a right nasty piece of work."

"That's Professor Snape," said Harry, pleased to finally be able to comment on something without reservation, "He works at Hogwarts."

"Oh," said the boy, derisively. "I've heard of him. He was one of death eater that got away, wasn't he? So sneaky they couldn't prove he did it, but the Headmaster's seeing to him, isn't he? He's a sort of servant, I've heard."

"He's the Potion Master," said Harry, liking the boy less and less every second.

"Well, yeah, I heard that, but that's just cause the Headmaster wants to keep a close eye on him, isn'it? Has him making the schools potions, too, an for free. Part of his parole, I expect, not that they ever put him up on trial that I know of. My father works at the ministry, and he would have said something if one of our 'fessors was a convict. Mind you, I'm glad the Headmaster's keeping an eye on him. Him being a Slytherin, you know? Can't trust the lot of them. Hope, I never have to take one a his potions; it'd probably rot me from the inside out. "

Harry turned his gaze to the potion master- who was standing outside the window, his arms crossed over his chest and his face schooled in a forbidding visage- more easily understanding the man's animosity, if the boy was right; first being required to offer his services without reimbursement, and without a trial, and then being asked to lower himself to the task of an hourly child-minder. If that were his given field, there would be no shame in the task, but where his mastery was in potions, it was a demeaning task to be forced to- without recompense.

"I think I've heard that he's quite brilliant, in his field," said Harry coldly.

"Did you? Like it even matters how bright someone is when they've mucked about in the filth he has," said the boy, with a grimace.

"A tarnished sickle still weighs the same," Harry replied, trying to hold his temper and his tongue.

The redhead stared at him blankly for several seconds before challenging, "That's an odd thing to say. Pretty sure the git doesn't have any kids; why is he with you, anyway? Where are your parents?"

"They're dead," said Harry shortly. He didn't feel much like going into the matter with this boy.

"Oh, sorry," said the other, not sounding sorry at all. "But they were our kind, weren't they?"

"They were a witch and wizard, if that's what you mean."

"It's okay if they're not, you know." the boy hurriedly answered, though hardly sounding sincere, "It's just it's got to be harder being one of the other sort, don't you think? They're just not the same; they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter. Imagine! What's your surname, anyway?"

But before Harry could answer, Madam Malkin said, "That's you done, my dear," and Harry, not sorry for an excuse to stop talking to the boy, hopped down from the footstool.

"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose," the boy commented.

Professor Snape sent Neville in next, then Blaise, then Taylor, and Millicent, before finally sending Draco in, after the red-haired boy's mother had finally returned to collect the boy. Harry thoroughly agreed, and – even though Draco groused at being last - Harry thought it had been a wise move, given how blunt and biased the boy had been just in Harry's presence. There was no telling how outspoken and insulting he would have been to Draco, whose father had made their surname notorious and whose own appearance was easily recognized due to the Daily Prophet's coverage of the abuse that landed Draco in Gringott's care.

With Draco's measurements finally taken, Harry and the others turned back toward Gringotts, all quite glad to be headed back, when Professor Snape cleared his throat, stopping them in their tracks.

"Mr. Potter, I do believe that you have neglected to make your most essential purchase."

"Sir?"

"Your wands, Mr. Potter."

"Oh, I apologize. I'm afraid that there may have been a miss-communication. Gringott's wards are required to purchase the materials to construct personalized wands almost immediately on being taken into Gringott's care. Our first lessons in transfiguration and runes focus on creating student wands to be used until our majority."

"I see, an unorthodox practice that our Headmaster may not strictly approve of." The potion master commented mildly.

"Perhaps not;" Harry agreed, perhaps a little too pleased to be at the possibility of thwarting at least one of the Headmaster's manipulations, "however, the ministry has long sanctioned early tutoring for heirs to offset the later impact of estate management studies and tasks not required of the general student body."

"As you say, not unorthodox, at all; however, I am certain that the Headmaster would not wish you to miss the traditional visit to Olivanders." Whether it was Professor Snape's mild response, so counter to his usual acerbic manner; the fact that he didn't simply order them to the shop; or the fact that he too turned back toward Gringotts; Harry couldn't say, but by the time they reached the inner silver doors, he had the distinct feeling that the professor was pleased with his choice.

Despite everything, the 'outing' had been more tolerable than Harry had expected it to be. In reflection of that fact, when he turned, in parting, to the Professor, Harry bowed respectfully low, as he might have to one of his managers and thanked the startled man … and several nearby bank clients.

"Professor Snape, I thank you for your accompaniment. Your advice on the quality of materials at the apothecary was highly valuable. Thank you, again."

After a quick, but surreptitious glance, the potion master replied with superficial equanimity, "Mr. Potter, as my services have been preformed, I will bid you a pleasant day... You may call upon me, in the future, if you require further consultation."

Harry thought he was the only one close enough to see the slight tinge of embarrassment color the man's sallow complexion, until he heard Draco's soft murmur of exaltation.

"I am honored by the offer, Professor, and look forward to September 1st."

Professor Snape nodded, before turning with a swirl of his cloak and exiting without a further word.

The other charges, except Draco, had dispersed by the time the doors closed behind the potion master. Draco paused to search Harry's face before he finally nodded and turned to go his own way, having seemed to come to some decision. Whether it was about Harry, the potion master, or some other matter, Harry couldn't say, but Harry didn't have time to consider it, at that moment.

Manager Griphook and the Coronae Magister Magia were waiting for him to report on the outing and to compare his impressions of the outing with those of the human Gringott's employee who had been assigned to follow and protect the heirs.