Bill Weasley
"Mum, you have to let Hermione out," Bill explained. "She has an appointment at Gringotts that she really can't afford to miss."
"But it isn't safe out there!" Molly shouted, wringing her hands. "What if there are more of them out there? Who's to say they'll be any different during the day than at a sporting event?"
"Because she'll be going with Charlie and me," Bill tiredly replied. Lara and Sam had already left for their shared apartment, having gotten a portkey the night before. "We're fully trained wizards capable of handling dangerous stuff, Mum. And it's Gringotts. Can you tell me she'll be safer anywhere else?"
"Well... I suppose," Molly admitted worriedly. "Just... Just be careful, Bill."
"We will, Mum."
Twenty minutes later (and cleaning Hermione up after she vomited), the three walked into Gringotts.
"Misters Weasley, and Miss Granger. Be seated; we have a lot of ground to cover," Slipshard began. "We'll start with the simple one. Weasley, is the spellwork finished on the project?"
"It is, Auditor," Bill replied. "We got the indexes up and running, got the stray spell portions contained, and we've tested it repeatedly, both with and without controls. It's as good as it';s going to get, and there's more than enough room to add more."
"Excellent. Miss Granger, I am Auditor Slipshard, a general auditor with Gringotts. I also manage your friend Harry Potter's investments"
"I believe that Harry mentioned something about that before he left," Hermione commented.
"Mr. Potter is also partnered with Gringotts to produce a new kind of testing registry. He deduced that there would be a lot of dark vaults below us, vaults with no living owners, thanks to two major wars in the last half century. He has licensed Gringotts the intellectual property of manufacturing a system that was capable of not only testing to see if a muggleborn was in fact a squib descended from a family line gone extinct, but also to generate a genealogical record for said muggleborn."
"That... That would change a lot of things in Magical Britain," Hermione stated, eyes wide at the implications.
"Precisely. Mister Weasley and several others have been working hard over the last couple of months assembling all of this, and it's now up to the finished stage. Usually there is a cost for this sort of service, namely five percent of the monetary contents of any discovered vaults. You are on the list to be exempt from this, on Mister Potter's request."
"That's very generous of Harry," Hermione replied with a small smile, "but he's always been considerate like that. If I might ask, were there any others that Harry exempted?"
"A couple, but that falls under confidentiality clauses. I am allowed to tell you that Miss Croft was our original test run," Slipshard firmly replied.
"I see. So how do I do this?"
"Weasley?"
"Hermione, since you're a muggleborn, and a really smart girl, I think we can dispense with the theatrics. But we'll need your signature on a contract that you won't tell anyone about the real testing method."
"I can sign a non-disclosure agreement, assuming that I'm under no threat."
"No, no threat. But if it get out that it's a really simple thing, that we dolled it up, there might be some backlash. So you agree, and you won't be capable of discussing it. As in magic will stop your lips from moving. But that's it."
"Where do I sign?"
A few moments later, Bill pulled out a pen and a ritual knife. "For just the vaults, we only need a scan of your magic. Slipshard has the crystal for that, and it's linked to a quill to write out the vault numbers. For the ancestry, we need a bit of blood; we're actually matching genetics for this one, so it has to be blood. But you only need to produce a dozen drops, enough to fill the barrel of the dip pen. The pen will then internally reproduce your blood while writing out your ancestry on a different roll of parchment. The dip pen also contains a crystal for the vault testing, so it's dual-function. Afterwards, the dip pen will be magically and biologically sterilized."
"I see. That's incredibly well thought out," Hermione admitted.
Holding out her hand, she nicked the side of her palm, counting out the twelve drops into the gleamingly new inkwell. She then picked up the dip pen, set it into the inkwell, and watched in absolute fascination as her blood was drawn up and into the pen. It then flew up to come to a rest on a wide sheet of parchment on the sideboard and began scratching out names, even as another quill scratched out number on a bit of parchment on Slipshard's desk.
"So how long does this take?" Hermione asked, a trace of nervousness in her voice.
"Not long," Slipshard stated. "The bloodline takes longer, but as we can only trace back to the founding of Gringotts, there's a limit. The vaults tend to be fast, and... Hm. That's... that's a lot of vaults," Slipshard stated, staring at the quill still jotting down vault numbers.
"Let me check something," Bill murmured, pulling out his wand and working through a very complex motion. "No, it's working just fine. I think that Hermione just has a lot of magical ancestors with vaults."
"It could be," Hermione hedged out. "I mean, I know I've got a little Greek in me, some French, some British African. If I'm descended from squibs, that's a lot of people in a lot of war-torn areas."
Finally, the quill ground to a halt, even as the dip pen continued, the parchment automatically unrolling more and more. Slipshard picked up the vault sheet, and grunted; Bill knew that was the goblin equivalent of a whistle of admiration. "Congratulations, Miss Granger. Thirty-seven vaults in five countries. We have agreements with other magical banks to provide this service as well," he admitted. "Fourteen vaults are here, one of which is the Dagworth-Granger vault."
"I don't understand how that's significant," Hermione admitted.
"Hector Dagworth-Granger founded the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers almost six hundred years ago," Charlie began. "All of the members are considered to be extremely skilled with potioneering. I heard that they were scouting Professor Snape before he went to teach at Hogwarts. Not sure if he joined, though."
"And I am the heir to this?" Hermione asked in a nervous, excited tone.
"Not as such," Charlie answered. "The Society pretty much runs itself; it'd have to since there hasn't been a Head of the House for almost a century. It just means that you have a bit of clout, and a definite family legacy. Possibly a bit of property, that manner of thing."
"And how would I go about, well, getting all of this? I can't imagine that the Ministry would let a known muggleborn take up such a prestigious family."
"That's actually a very interesting thing, Miss Granger," Slipshard began. "Mister Potter came across something similar. For property, or anything taxable, hit up the Ministry tax offices. Also, since according to your ancestry sheet there are no known living magical relatives older than you, you automatically default as Head of House. Furthermore, the Ministry is actively prohibited from interfering in House Ascension. Whoever tries such a thing would find themselves without a job, and virtually unemployable in Britain and the Commonwealth. It's quite possibly the only thing that every faction of the Wizengamot will absolutely unify against."
"I see. This is quite a lot to take in. May I have a moment?"
"In a few minutes, Miss Granger. First is your keys," Slipshard stated, handing Hermione a softly jingling ring full of golden keys. "You'll need to sign here, stating you've received them. Sign here, stating that you've received the ancestry analysis. And sign here, stating that whatever you do with this information, Gringotts is not to blame, or at fault in any way."
Hermione did so, and Slipshard tapped the documents, automatically copying them before handing Hermione her copy. "Miss Granger, thank you for being the first actual person to use our new method that wasn't a test of it. I'll have someone escort you to the lounge used by our Cursebreakers so that you can process this. If you need anything, please feel free to ask at the counter."
"Yes, and thank you," Hermione said, as she got to shaky feet.
"One more thing, Miss Granger," Slipshard added. "By the look of it, you have maybe four thousand Galleons in Gringotts. That is roughly equivalent to one hundred thousand Pounds. Once you get your head around all of this, I recommend coming back in and speaking with someone about investments. Have a good day, Miss Granger."
Hermione left, led away by another goblin. The door closed, and Slipshard pulled out more paperwork. "Mister Weasley, I understand that you work in a Dragon Preserve in Romania?"
"That's right," Charlie replied. "Bill mentioned Harry wanting me for some sort of job?"
"International Genetics, founded by a man named John Hammond. He's been scouting around for interested investors, has gotten ahold of people with certain qualifications to try and sign off on something involving 'genetic engineering', whatever that is, and theme parks. Potter admittedly is being nosy on this, and he wants to hire you to go in and check this out to see if he wants to invest."
"Harry said that genetic engineering was probably like magical creature crossbreeding," Bill explained, "and that theme parks mean spectacle."
"I know what genetic engineering is," Charlie stated, "or at least the basics of it. And yeah, it's kind of like magical creature crossbreeding. I've heard of John Hammond. He and some scientist were working on cloning a rare breed of elephant about ten years ago. A lot of exotic sanctuaries have been wondering if the same thing can be done with magical creatures, including ours. Me getting in to see what Hammond is doing, that'll tickle my boss to no end, especially if I can see the actual process. If I can, and I can get the memory into a pensieve, we might be able to figure out something to keep so many magical creatures from dying off."
"Sounds like it works out well for everyone," Slipshard stated with a grin. "I trust you know how to act muggle?"
"Better than most," Charlie admitted. "Dad being the head of a department that deals with muggle artifacts helps, and me hitting the local villages for food and supplies doesn't hurt either. I might not be up on the current fashions, but I can pull off regular pants and shirt."
"Excellent. Here is the pay and benefits offer," Slipshard replied, sliding the parchment over. "As you can see, the pay is equivalent to what you'd make in two weeks at the Preserve, with an allowance for equipment, just in case. Moke-skin pouch, wand holster, that sort of thing."
Charlie looked it over before nodding. "This looks good. September seventeenth to the twentieth, sure. I'll need to borrow your international floo to let my boss know before I sign, but I don't see any issues with this."
"Excellent. Down the hall, fourth door on the right," Slipshard stated, scribbling out something before handing the parchment over. "Give that to the attendant. When you're done, come back here and we'll wrap this up."
Finally Bill was now alone with Slipshard. "Are you okay, Auditor?"
"I will be. Granger's situation was unexpected, lots of paperwork. At least there aren't competing people working to punt her out of the spot. Have you heard from Potter recently?"
"No, been meaning to get a letter to him, but it wasn't until now that I had the time," Bill admitted. "There have been a couple of complications. It seems that Samantha Nishimura has the heaviest life debt to Harry possible. Lara told me, without violating the contract, that Harry saved not just her life, but her soul. Now Sam is absolutely fixated on Harry; Lara's afraid that she'll start mailing Harry nude photographs or something."
Slipshard shrugged. "I fail to see the issue with that. So long as it isn't bad poetry, let the girl obsess."
"The problem is that Harry is fourteen, and Sam is twenty-four. Legally, in the muggle world at least, that's problematic. Logistically, if her obsession continues to grow, it may go from devoted affection to a 'nobody can have you but me' thing, and that can lead to bodies. And Harry doesn't deserve that kind of thing."
"Point well made," Slipshard said, considering the matter. "Ah. Go talk to Potter's lawyer. Laura Langley. I recall that Potter has her researching life debts due to matters involving Granger and your sister. Perhaps she's turned up something on the matter."