Do or Die (HP FF)

Hello, There!

A/N: I'm kind of planning for this to be a laid back kinda story, it's not gonna be totally serious. Lol, idk. Comment and tell me what you think so far. If I don't get any comments, I probably won't upload anymore. As I said before, this is gonna be more of a reader response thing, I guess. I don't know, enjoy the story! Also- sorry for any spelling mistakes. Some of this is written on my iPod, and when I'm typing on the computer, my hand hurts because I accidentally cut it while trying to open a juice box. Wow, long intro. Enjoyy!

As I've mentioned before, I'm Gaulda Mac. I'm a full-blooded witch who has been raised by goblins. For my whole life, I've lived underneath Gringotts, the wizard bank. I've found the cold marble walls comforting and safe. What people didn't know, was that there was an entire society of goblins underground. We live in a tunnel system. To go anywhere in the world, all you need is a mine cart.

The goblins are tolerable. We all get snappy with one another, but that's in their nature, and that's how I've been brought up. Now, let me explain my name. The goblins named me when I was small. They always have weird names, like my friend Griphook. Anyways, the last name is always the name of your father. Since we don't know who my father is, I'm named after the leader of the goblins, Macnazebium Lothar(aniuhm). Their names are shortened when addressed. Now, I could get into a lot of goblin politics, but all's I'll say is this: there are no kings when it comes to goblins. They only have leaders who give suggestions, not orders. Their opinions are held in such high regard that they might as well be giving commands. I was considered the leader's daughter, so my opinion was valued as well. Goblins are too proud to be ruled by a king.

I've barely left the bowels of Gringotts. Only twice. Once to get my wand (a single feather from a crow, wood from a Whomping Willow tree, 13", swishy and good at charms and transfiguration) from New Zealand. Another Time was when Griphook took me on a tour of Diagonal Alley, buying me a ton of sweets in the process.

I'm thirteen today, September the first. I due to have an appointment with a headmaster of a school called Hogwarts. Dumbledore, the others call him. I'm not exactly sure how I feel about this. Dumbledore was very well respected in the world, and I was a little anxious, and another part of me didn't really care at all. It was nothing important, I assured myself.

I took the nearest mine cart up to the main lobby of Gringotts bank. It took a good 15-20 minutes to get up there, but that was because my room-like quarters were not really deep in the underground; just enough so that when passing by mine cart for the bank, you wouldn't see it. I arrived there shortly, humming to myself as I skipped up the long isle of desks. Goblins filled each one, each doing a different activity.

Griphook came up to me. His wrinkled face giving away his age of 101, but he was still one of my closest friends. He seemed to be more friendly than the others, but I wasn't sure if that was because we grew up together, or not. Goblins could have a lifespan as long as 1000 years, though uncommon. Just like how humans could uncommonly live to 100. I was really jealous, but goblins are extremely powerful.

"Good, Gaulda," he addressed me. "The professor his here already. Room 15673B."

I quickly went to the room, which surprisingly wasn't far from the lobby. The more rooms added onto the bank, the closer and larger the numbers are, if that makes any sense. I stepped in and of course was the headmaster. He was tall, but was sitting in a plush chair that was obviously conjured from thin air, as the rest of the room was completely barren. It was one of the new editions, and had yet to have a purpose. Dumbledore had sky blue eyes that seemed to stare straight into my soul, a crooked nose, and half-moon spectacles. Not only did his beard make him seem magical (which was several feet long), but he also smelled suspiciously of candy canes.

"Hello, Miss Mac," he said. His voice screamed "I'm so old, I'm so wise!".

"Hullo," I replied, stiffly. It was the way I spoke, unless with Griphook, or others I was close to. Then, it was more relaxed, if only a little.

"I'm not going to beat around the bush here." Dumbledore peered over his glasses. "Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban, the wizard prison. We need you at Hogwarts to help protect the students."

I narrowed my eyes. "What's in it for me?" I prompted.

"Not only would you learn other forms of magic, but I was thinking that you could teach History of Magic. Your knowledge is no doubt extensive."

My eyes remained narrowed. "You could also possibly find out who your parents are."

With that, my eyes flew open. I had always been curious as to who had birthed me. I looked up at Dumbledore with wide eyes. Of course he had said the magic words. With that, of course I would agree. Sneaky old coot.

"Promise?" I inquired, extremely hopeful.

"Promise," was the simple reply.