Noir Evans

Chapter 4: Burgock

Harry was silent as he ate through his scarce breakfast. He had tuned out Hermione's berating and Ron's open-mouthed eating; absolutely disgusting.

Harry couldn't wait to go to Gringotts later in the day. He could hardly sleep because he was excited. The reason for this wasn't clear. He was only buying over a tiny, smelly and hopefully cheap place that had belonged to a descendant of Slytherin. There wasn't much to it. It wasn't a sense of ownership. He owned dozens of properties and had shares in many businesses. He owned a lot already so, what was it?

Harry sat through Potions, where he impressed Slughorn immensely with his knowledge and then Herbology. He had a knack for herbology but of course, no one could surpass Neville in that area of expertise. Deeming it a productive day, he promptly shook off his prison guards and dashed off to the chamber. Luckily, he didn't have an unwanted encounter with the Dungeon Bat on the way.

He hissed the door open, dropped down the tunnel and landed in a Batman-like pose. He threw his backpack onto the chair in the office, deciding that he didn't need the backpack or the chair apart from the vault key, just in case. He walked into the bedroom and chose some simple combat robes after finding that the rest were far too fancy not to mention oversized.

He promptly changed into the significantly more comfortable combat robes, which looked very intimidating and a little too professional and went straight to the steps of Gringotts with his vault key in his right pocket.

"May your enemies' heads roll at your feet," he bowed to the Head Goblin.

The Goblin grinned a rather scary grin. The boy was one of the only ones who even tried to respect the Goblins other than Muggleborns who didn't know any better. The Muggleborns were polite but it wasn't the same with those who knew how to treat a Goblin and respect them. It was quite sad.

"And may your vaults be ever-flowing," he answered, "What can I do for you, Lord Potter?"

"I am afraid I am not here on a personal matter," he sighed. He sometimes came to Gringotts just to talk to the goblins or have a drink. They were good company and didn't care about who he was or what he did; being rich didn't discourage it though.

"Do you know if Burgock is free?" he asked. Burgock was the man to see if you wanted to do something 'off-the-record', per se. He was also a nice bloke who, while still a Goblin, rather enjoyed listening and reading about Wizard affairs.

"Of course, Harry. BURGOCK!" he yelled, slightly frightening Harry. For a creature that small, he sure had quite the voice. A fair-skinned, dark-haired Goblin appeared behind the Head Goblin. In contrast to his boss, he looked fairly young and had a full head of hair. He didn't wear glasses and was dressed in a rather muggle-looking suit.

"Lord Potter, May your gold be ever-flowing," he bowed his head and Harry mirrored his actions, "And may your enemies heads roll at your feet."

They shook hands, Harry, with a smile on their face and Burgock with whatever was the Goblin equivalent to a smile. They made their way further along than Griphook's office and went into a large hall with dozens of Goblins hustling and bustling with all sorts of paperwork and some were shouting at nothing in particular. They each had a cubicle-of-sorts and it reminded Harry shockingly of a Muggle call centre without the 'calling' aspect.

He followed the smaller Being to what was most likely his office, judging on a name plaque that sat on his desk and sat opposite Burgock.

Burgock leant forward on his seat and rested his elbows on the table, "How can I help you, Harry?"