Professor Black: A Reader Insert

35. Solicitors are One Thing

Albus was fuming. Across from him sat a solicitor, Harry Potter's solicitor, Harry Potter's goblin solicitor. The thing was looking at him, the most distinguished wizard in history, aside from Merlin himself, like he was an ant beneath its shoe. To his sides sat Ludo Bagman and Barty Crouch Sr., neither of whom seem to understand just what this meant to the full extent that Albus knew.

All of his calculations mean nothing. Every step, every sacrifice, he's ever taken means diddly squat. The measures put in place are but a molehill to the mountain of reality. Where had he gone wrong?

~~~~~

One thing goblins prided themselves over was their ability to read wizards, no matter how strong their Occulmancy was. Siban especially, she'd have to be, she's a solicitor that deals with wizards mishandling goblin artifacts. This particular issue is something every wizard refuses to admit to doing. Siban knew none of the men before her was the main culprit, but they would all be accomplices. She had already spoken to the other headmasters for the other schools and gleaned that they were very much against Lord Peverell's being in the Tournament as it would give Hogwarts an advantage. She was just waiting for Ealsi, her wife, and her team to find the culprit. Then she could appropriately spend her time making her wife a very pleased woman. As she should, instead of dealing with these smelly men before her.

~~~~~

Ealsi was tracking the magic signature that had tainted the Goblet of Fire, made by her dear uncle. A blind old goblin now, but once a great maker of goblin artifacts. He'd spit fire should he learn of how his favorite trinket was being used as a means to a child's death. Granted in the eyes of the Ministry of Morons, Lord Peverell is an adult, to those at Gringotts, he is still a child. She, and a handful of her most skilled guards, were now outside of a classroom.

Flinging open the doors, they rushed in warding the students for safety as they bound the culprit with their magic and sneered at the fake man.

"You stupid wizard." Ealsi didn't like how this one smelled at all.

The wizard in question couldn't retort, he was bound from most all movement. He did glare though.

The wards brought up to protect the students was removed as Ealsi turned to the students.

"It would appear, young ones, that class is to be on hold until further notice. I suggest writing an essay on the downsides of using polyjuice potions during missions of espionage to turn into your Head of House." As she was speaking, the bound man was levitated out of the room, about the time the potion began to wear off, the children staring dumbly at the wizard. "Remember, children, don't cross the goblins, we hold your gold, and are a rather vengeful lot. Well, get on, you've got better things to do I'm sure."

Once she finished speaking, Ealsi walked through the stunned class and left the classroom to follow after her team. The only thought on her mind being how should she be rewarded by her wife for a job well done.

~~~~~

Bartemeus Crouch Sr knew for a fact that the person that was brought into the room with Dumbledore and Bagman, shouldn't be here of all places. Mentally he started writing up his resignation as his son was floated into the room by a handful of goblins.

Does Azkaban take applications for prisoners? That might go over better than a trial, in terms of optics that is. What was the prat doing here? He was supposed to be at home under house arrest so he couldn't do any harm.

Dread pooled in his stomach as he watched the goblins talk to each other in Gobbledegook before the one, Susan or something, that was with them turned to the three men.

"This is your true fourth champion, not Lord Peverell." The solicitor spoke.

"I'm sorry, who?" Bagman asked sounding astonished.

"Lord Peverell. Since this is an obvious attempt on the boy's life, his highest known title is to be used. Harry Potter will not compete for the sake of another's magic, certainly never his enemy's." The goblin explained with a deadened tone that sounded like it didn't want to be explaining something so simple.

"Highest known title?" Dumbledore, asked sounding a bit put out.

That didn't make sense, he's the boy's magical guardian. This was something he should've known.

"If you were an acceptable magical guardian, you would've already known this. It also doesn't fall in your favor to emancipate the boy just to make it so he wouldn't be risking his magic when competing in a tournament he has been distinctly against being in." The solicitor narrowed their eyes at the headmaster in a challenge.

"I was of the understanding that he was magically bound to-" the headmaster was cut off.

"That's just it. The Goblet didn't have an ounce of Lord Peverell's magic anywhere near it. He can't be bound to compete if he didn't put his name in himself. It's common sense." The goblin that tracked down Junior, Elise or something or other, said with a scathing look at the headmaster.

Goodness, if he wasn't going to be dealing with trouble of his own he would've summoned a house elf for some tea. Bagman certainly wasn't keeping track if his track record in theses sorts of matters was to be trusted.

Barty Sr looked over his spawn and sighed, where did he go wrong with him?

~~~~~

Barty Crouch Jr felt like his head was reeling. Things were going according to plan then last night his Lord told him that he needn't bother with this elaborate plan, further a team of goblins stole him from his terrorizing of a group of first years, and now he was in a bind. Quite literally. Where's Regulus when you need him? Right, dead, missing, any number of ghastly things but dead most likely. What would he do to get out of this? Ah shite, he staked his magic on this whole thing and it's gone to shit hasn't it. He couldn't even try to talk his way out of this.

"Since Miss Black has offered to mentor the fourth champion, it would seem that we've decided Crouch Jr's fate, take him to her office and don't worry about freeing him, she'll deal with it." That old goat bleated.

"He's committed a crime, Dumbledore. He can't be left out of where he should be." Dear old dad, the nutter.

"On the contrary, I find the dementors prefer a meal with a magical core, has more flavor." How the old goat could pull such a thing out of his arse we may never know.

And that was how Barty Crouch Jr found himself still stiff as a board lying in a nest of rather soft pillows staring at the ceiling in a painfully quiet office with the distinct grumble of a famished stomach to keep him company as the sun traveled across the sky.

Why didn't they ask where the real Moody was?