Harry Potter: A Certain Ancient Rune Professor of Hogwarts (TL) - Chapter 698
Chapter 698: The Moon Sand and Forest in Bootle (2 in 1)
Later that night, Ms. Bones and a few students emerged from the Gringotts surrounded by a crowd of goblins, and reporters who had been informed early on immediately gathered around. Flashes of light flickered brightly. Ms. Bones announced to the public that negotiations had gone well and that a number of agreements had been made.
The goblin spokesman of the Gringotts agreed and gave an explanation for the dragon’s escape not long ago.
“That dragon was no longer fit for the task, and if you were well-informed you would have noticed that the Gringotts has been looking for an alternative recently, and yes, that dragon was moved elsewhere and awaits to be disposed of. In the meantime, Sphinx will be guarding the most important vaults. We have considered placing the trolls wearing goblin armour, which has a defence comparable to that of a dragon.”
When a journalist continued to press on about the reason for the dragon’s escape, the goblin spokesman replied stiffly.
“The council of elders decided to move the dragon on short notice in order to not frighten our honoured guests. An unfortunate accident occurred midway. The person responsible for this was an outsider, unfamiliar with the methods used to control the dragon, Bodrig the Boss-Eyed has unfortunately died in this accident… No specific details can be provided.”
The temporary press conference ended, and Harry and the other students made their way out to meet up with Ron, who suggested that they should get together for a drink, so the group swarmed into the Leaky Cauldron bar, which was packed to the brim with wizards talking about the incident. Just as they were at a loss of what to do, Neville poked his head out of a dark, hidden corner and waved vigorously at them.
“Harry, Ron – this way!” He yelled excitedly.
As the group took their seats, Ron was unhappy that Draco Malfoy was sitting next to him. “I thought you would go home.” He said with a frown.
“The negotiations aren’t over yet, so of course, I can’t leave.” Draco glanced at Ron contemptuously, causing him to glare a little. “Also, you were left out of the negotiations and don’t know anything, so naturally you’re not aware of the role I played in the process.”
Ron froze and looked at Harry, who nodded reluctantly, acknowledging his part.
“Okay, err, so – can anyone tell us what happened in the middle of the negotiations? Why did a dragon escape?”
Harry briefly described the entire negotiation.
“Doesn’t sound like an accident.” Tonks said, “Oh, thank you, Tom.” She took the drinks brought over by Tom, the bar owner, and distributed them to the group, then she took a bunch of crystalline grapes out of her pocket that looked very tempting.
“Oh.” Tonks squashed her lips, “Got them from Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, you can try them, they’re called multi-flavoured grapes, a bit like Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans.”
Neville picked one up, “Purple kale flavour.” He said with a happy look on his face. Hannah picked one up too and flicked her ponytail, “Pumpkin pie flavour.” “Spinach flavour, seems okay?” Collins said as he took a small bite. “Celery.” Harry’s face scrunched up and when he finished it he grabbed a glass of water and rinsed his mouth. Hermione and Ginny didn’t even bother to touch it when they heard that it was something brought from the Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes.
After the interlude, they remembered what they were talking about earlier.
“It was definitely that Boss-Eyed’s fault,” Ron said with certainty, “they tried to scare you guys with the dragon, but they miscalculated, as soon as Ms. Bones gave the signal, the Aurors outside would have rushed in immediately, wouldn’t they, Collins?”
Collins nodded.
“And after that?” Neville asked curiously, “You talked for another two hours after the dragon flew away.”
Harry turned to Hermione, “No more accidents after that. Most of the time it was Hermione talking, occasionally stopping to ask Ms. Bones’ opinion or answer the questions raised by the goblins. They often argued for ten minutes or even half an hour about a single word, and I had the feeling of being back in a History of Magic classroom again.”
The crowd laughed. Hermione rolled her eyes and pulled out a few pieces of meaningful information, and with her explanation, the crowd pretty much sorted out the main points of the negotiations.
“We’ve avoided some tricky issues,” Hermione said, “they’re dead in the knot over the wizard and goblin hostility, and it won’t be easy to untangle it. Maybe it will be necessary for the Professor to step in at the end.”
They mentioned the words of the goblin spokesman all over again.
” ‘Distinguished guest’,” Ron gave a look of disgust, “I’ve never heard a goblin talk so eloquently.”
“If you leased the prized vault of the Gringotts and deposited a large sum of money in it,” Draco Malfoy showed a mocking expression, “you’d get tired of hearing it.”
“How much money do you have? On your own?” Ron shot back, “I have over a thousand galleons at my disposal.”
Draco Malfoy’s breath caught in his throat.
“Where did you get that much money?” He couldn’t help but ask, a thousand galleons would be a significant amount of money even for him.
“I saved it up hard,” Ron said without thinking, “prize money from the tournament, licensing fees for the tournament footage, fees for articles – and yes,” he tapped his head “I still have a bunch of money held at the Muggle newspaper, if the negotiations come to fruition, I wonder if I could go to their door and claim it?” He said uncertainly.
“You’ve fallen deep into the money.” Ginny said.
“That’s what I deserve.” Ron said disgruntled, “Did I give you fewer presents each year?”
Ginny pouted. Draco said smugly from the sidelines, “When we graduate, the family will give me a big chunk of money, a big chunk, you know? Tens of thousands of galleons at least …”
“Does that have a single Knut that you earned?” Harry asked in disgust.
“Yeah, Harry got a ton of money in his vault too, but he never mentions it.” Ron said immediately.
“Oh come on,” Hermione said impatiently, “since when did you guys start to compare this, I don’t think money is the answer for the problems we are facing-”
“Small families certainly wouldn’t understand the benefits that money brings.” Draco scoffed, “My father has made connections with quite a few distinguished healers – probably in a few years I’ll be the head of the first wizard muggle joint hospital.”
“Really,” Hermione shot back with a sharp tongue, “so can the heir of the great and mighty Malfoy family enlighten me about why no one else has dabbled in this business if it is so promising? Is it because of the reputation of the Malfoy family? Or is it because of the money and power you are so proud of? Oh, I almost forgot, money is the only thing that Malfoy is left with.”
Draco’s face sank. Because Hermione was telling the truth.
The Malfoy family’s wealth and prestige had shrunk dramatically after the war and their influence is not what it used to be. The only reason why no pureblood family had interfered with the Hospital they are constructing was because they all thought that the Joint Hospital was compensation that Professor Hap had given to Lucius for going undercover.
But the truth is –
Draco remembered his father’s words. “He never promised, and probably didn’t even care about it, the preservation of the Malfoys was the reward he offered me for going undercover.” Lucius said in his study.
“Then-”
“Because of you. The wizarding world wasn’t exposed at that time, and you were the only one that showed an inclination to do so among the people he came into contact with, and he was happy to support you.” Lucius analysed calmly, “The wealth that the Malfoys have accumulated over a dozen generations, and the network of connections linked to Muggles … would make this easy, but remember, you weren’t the only candidate, which is why I tried to publicize this as much as possible, and secretly warned some pureblood family.” He said with a sneer.
“Noble pureblood families? Now purebloods are worthless and have become crippled-blood families.”
…
Over the next few days, the negotiations moved smoothly. With the best efforts of both sides, the negotiations reached a substantive level, breaking the barriers one by one, and as Hermione expected, only a few stubborn issues remained, such as the ownership of items built by goblins and whether goblins could possess wands.
“Those are matters of fine details, and the details are irrelevant to me. What we are negotiating is whether goblins want to join the Pan-Magical Alliance – where most of the magical intelligent beings have joined.” During another negotiation, Felix appeared and said as he took his seat.
“Goblins could possess wands, but the acquisition must come at a price. The day that a goblin possesses the wand is the day that the goblin’s special method of forging metal will be made public.” He turned his head to Hermione, “Put that in the clause’s footnotes.”
“Oh, okay, Professor!” Hermione said hurriedly, hastily adding notes on the margins of the parchment.
There was an awkward silence. Neither the goblins nor the wizards present were too happy with the result, feeling that their side had lost out, but on reflection, it was pretty much the best way to get past the controversy.
The goblins had been fighting for centuries for the right to buy and possess their own wand. This right, until now restricted by law, a law which prohibits non-wizards from possessing wands, has been broken to pieces today. But it comes with a staggering cost –
What is the special way that goblins wrought metal?
It has something to do with the goblin’s natural talent, something to do with the goblin’s special magic system. Once this is unravelled, goblins will no longer have secrets.
If anyone else had said this, the goblins would have probably scoffed or even cursed, looking at the wizard with disdain in the process, because goblins are deeply proud of their magic and would never believe that anyone could possibly perform it. But when these words came from the mouth of an archmage comparable to Dumbledore, they would believe it.
Especially – when that Archmage had a history of pioneering (or recovering lost) ancient rune systems almost on his own, and he is only twenty-six or twenty-seven years old and has probably spent less than a decade studying ancient runes, so his words carried a lot of weight.
The goblins looked at each other and saw the hesitation in their eyes.
And some of the more clever wizards had thought of this too. But they were not thinking in the same way as the goblins: the swords and armour crafted by the goblins could be regarded as divine weapons, and their silver wares are popular among the wizards, so if they could acquire the technology, they would be happy to barter.
Previously, wizards simply could not replicate the goblins’ magic.
Several wizards looked at Felix with fiery eyes. Faced with such huge benefits, they were tempted to start a war, but the greed in their hearts was instantly doused when they met Felix’s cold eyes.
After another round of intense negotiations, the goblins agreed to join the Pan-Magical Alliance, if they could retain the right to speak within, with the promise that they would maintain the same tone as the wizards outside.
“We will reserve the right to appeal, and we would only sign a two hundred years pact.” The elderly goblin said, half relaxed, half resigned.
Felix didn’t say anything, but the idea of building a magical floating city (island) grew stronger and stronger in his mind. The wizarding community is so intertwined with each other that pulling out a single thread could stir up the entire wizarding community, and Felix didn’t want to change the wizarding environment in a drastic way. That wouldn’t necessarily be a good thing. He just wanted to paint on a blank sheet of paper that could be wiped and smudged over and over again; the existing territory couldn’t stand the toss, and the best way to do it would be through finding another place …
In the meantime, the Wizards formally approached the Muggle government in the name of the Ministry of Magic, and they still didn’t talk about the main issues, the follow-up negotiation was equivalent to Felix’s first visit with students to visit the Queen last time; neither the Muggle Prime Minister nor the Minister of Magic showed up in the negotiation process, with each sending officials and representatives instead, albeit with a much higher standard in the name.
In a context similar to a government report, both sides introduced each other at length about the history of their development, culture, ideologies, and technology (magic) in formal language.
The senior official sent by the Ministry of Magic was Mr. Weasley, whose status had risen with the reorganisation of the Ministry’s departments. During the meeting, Mr. Weasley showed a keen interest in a range of technological products, and after learning that Mr. Weasley is the father of the wizard mentioned repeatedly in the ‘Wizard Goes to School’ series of news articles which are currently hot in the newspapers, the government staff decided on the spur of the moment to present him with a box of spanners that came with various types of bolts and nuts.
“Thank you so much,” Mr. Weasley said enthusiastically, “I didn’t bring any personal gifts, but the Minister of Magic, Ms. Bones, entrusted me with two gifts for the Muggle government when I left-” The case opened to reveal a simple saucer, along with an ornate crystal vase.
Inside the crystal vase, there is a miniature jungle landscape, which the government representative glanced at twice and then stopped paying attention to, as he turned his attention to the greyish saucer, which was covered with tattered and faded patterns that had no aesthetic appeal.
“Uh,” the government representative was a little confused, “does this dish have any special significance?”
It didn’t look like a work of art. Their side had prepared a gift as well, a carefully selected artefact from a museum that would be quite valuable as a collection, both in terms of artistic and historical significance.
“It doesn’t matter what it looks like, what matters is where it came from,” Mr. Weasley said, “It came from the moon.”
The government representative’s eyes widened.
“The mo-the moon?”
“Yes.” Mr. Weasley nodded and smiled, but for a moment, the government representative felt his smile grow with pride, which contrasted sharply with the vivid expression he had worn while listening to the report earlier.
When the meeting was over, the government representatives immediately headed to a conference room to answer questions from the entire cabinet. The Prime Minister looked impatient, “Well? What’s their response?” He turned his head to a very unassuming person behind the representative, “You are the best psychoanalyst in the country, what are your conclusions?”
The psychoanalyst looked out in a daze.
“He may need some time to adjust to the psychological impact brought on by the magic … It’s better if I do the talking.” The representative opened the box and, just like him, everyone was fascinated by what it contained.
“A Forest View in a Vase?” The Prime Minister glanced at the featureless dish, mentally judging that it is probably an artefact of some kind, and he focused his attention on the delicate crystal vase, lowering his head to examine it closely, “Interesting, I can see flying birds, and it moves – is it magic?” The others tsked in wonder too.
The representative pursed his lips.
“It may not be quite what you think, it is indeed magic, but it is also mixed with something else …” he said with an odd expression on his face, “There is a real small forest inside, it was created using Undetectable Extension Charm — which you can interpret as a magical equivalent of spatial extension technology.”
As if a pause button had been pressed in the conference room, the Prime Minister maintained his bending position and turned his head to glare at him.
“The technology – err, I mean this magic is said to be quite mature in its application, but of course, the magic on this vase we have will only last a week. On their last visit, they heard that the government is planning to create a garden, so they gifted us with a …”
“Gifted us a garden in a vase?” One council member groaned.
“It’s simple to use,” the representative continued expressionlessly, though his voice dripped with a slight lack of confidence, “Within a week, smash this vase in the middle of the intended site and the magical garden will be restored to its original size, complete with trees, flowers, and a fountain. There will be no difference from the real thing.”
There was silence. The ministers in the room were silently thinking about what this magic represented, and the more they thought about it, the more alarmed they became. After a few moments, the Prime Minister forced himself to speak and asked, “What about the other artefact?” He found his throat a little dry.
“The other artefact …” the representative said hesitantly, and his attitude left the hearts of the others hanging, could this dish be unusual too, hiding some magic they didn’t know about?
“That dish is rather ordinary, with an absence of magic, but the key is, the place it came from, it is claimed that, ahem, I am in no position to determine the truth, except to relay the words of the wizard,” the representative cleared his throat, “Mr. Felix Hap went to the moon a few days ago and was lucky enough to find a wizard relic –”
“You’re not joking, right?” The Prime Minister interrupted.
“Perhaps the wizards were joking with us, but it is for you all to judge.” The representative said, “This matter was widely publicised in wizard society, and Hap – the same wizard professor who last visited – claimed to have been ill-prepared for his first landing on the moon, and thus he only managed to search the perimeter haphazardly … ”
In the midst of a crowd of blank faces, the Prime Minister suddenly jumped to his feet:
“Get the best scientists together! Now! Now! Tell them to drop what they’re doing – and don’t we have a sample of moon soil? Find it, divide it into a dozen, and I want the most accurate analysis we can get!”
“Sir Prime Minister, the moon soil is precious, and we only have a little.” One of his advisors whispered.
The Prime Minister pointed to the soily dish and roared at him, “Precious? If it is