Men of Steel

Chapter 1

Happy Valentine's Day! 💕

Harry smiled weakly at Hermione as she squeezed his hand in comfort. Turning to Ron on his other side, the black-haired eighteen-year-old offered a nod as a sort of question. Harry didn't even know if he was prepared for this.
Receiving a nod in return, Harry steeled his resolve, as, ready or not, the trio of three best friends began to walk into a large, pearlescent building looming over its surrounding small, happy shops.
The three Gryffindors had avoided Gringotts Bank for as long as was possible, after their stunt while on the hunt for horcruxes- dark objects known to make its creator unable to truly die by housing pieces of their soul. In trying to destroy another horcrux of the Dark Lord Voldemort, the three friends stole from a vault, 'imperious'ed a goblin, released an imprisoned dragon, and destroyed most of the building when they escaped on the back of said dragon.
To make matters worse, the Goblins were allowed to punish thieves however they wished, as Hermione had seen fit to remind them after they had demolished the place. It wasn't like it was Harry or Ron's fault that they couldn't remember a lick of what Professor Binns droned on about in History of Magic.
And the group of three quickly found out that this worry was too true, as, upon stepping inside the main atrium of the bank in Goblin territory, small warriors armed with every weapon from swords to ninja stars came rushing towards them from every direction, breaking the frantic friends apart and rushing them away from one another, before they were able to even get a word in edgewise.

Harry was unceremoniously pushed through a doorway by the growling goblins before having it slammed in his face. Disgruntled, the adult wizard spared a moment to worry for his friends before a sharp cough brought his attention away from the door.
Twirling around, Harry took note of the many weapons on display around the office area before settling his electric green eyes on the scowling goblin sitting in front of him at a large desk, long spindly fingers curled up in fists that rested upon the several sheets of parchment present before the goblin.
"Take a seat, Mr. Potter. I haven't the time nor the patience to waste on thieves like you." The goblin's glasses glinted sharply in the flickering sconces attached to the walls of the office.
Harry lightly ground his teeth, but unclenched his jaw just as quickly. It would not do to get the goblin any more angered than he already was. "I'm sorry, we didn't mean to-"
"Silence." The goblin stared down at Harry, whose chair was much shorter than the desk the goblin sat behind. "I do not wish to hear of things you 'did not mean to do'. Mister Potter, do you realize that you broke several of the laws of this bank? First in breaking into a vault not your own, second in taking something which does not belong to you, third in releasing a dragon that was rightfully ours, and fourth in vandalizing a great portion of our building."
Looking down at his hands, Harry grimaced at the sharp tone with which the goblin reprimanded him. He had really messed up this time, hadn't he?
"Yes sir."
"Good. You may be a hero to the Wizarding population, Mister Potter, but if you expect us to cut you any slack for it, you are sorely mistaken."
Harry's impassive face broke as he frowned lightly. He did not like his fame, and he liked it even less when people believed he got off easy because of it.
"What you did to our bank had not been forgotten, nor forgiven. It is only the fact that your family account is one of our best that we allow you to continue to live." The goblin kept an impassive face as the Potter-Black heir's countenance shotgunned from calm but uncertain to panicked. "Hermione and Ron, sir! Surely you would not..? That's not fair!"
The goblin leaned back behind his chair, his face darkening as Harry looked, wide-eyed, at the diminutive creature. "Nothing in life is fair, Mister Potter, but if you must know, we are not killing the other wixen. They will also be charged a large fine."
Harry's brow furrowed as he calmed for a moment before his eyes shot back to the goblins, once more expressing desperation. "But what if they can't pay the fine?"
A sickening grin crawled across the wrinkled goblin's face, his long, pointed ears tipping back slightly at the Cheshire grin he sported. "Why, then we kill them, Mister Potter," the goblin purred.
Face paling, the Wizarding Savior sat back in his chair heavily, running a hand through his hair. "Sir, is there any way for me to pay for them? Err... Do I even have enough in my vault for my fine?"
The goblin scoffed, leaning forward onto his desk again, but a light had developed in his dark eyes. "Are you telling me, Mister Potter, that you do not know how much money is in your vaults?" The goblin was scowling fiercely, the maniacal light shining to the point Harry felt more than uncomfortable underneath it. "Have you not been reading our letters, boy?"
Harry tried to ignore the dread pooling in his gut as he returned the goblin's question with one of his own. "What letters, sir?" he questioned weakly.
The goblin's face abruptly turned to stone as he stood up from his chair. "Follow me, Mister Potter," he said stiffly as he quickly ambled down from the tall chair behind his desk.
Standing up and feeling the doom begin to settle in his blood, Harry followed the goblin out of his office and down the many twisting hallways lit only by the occasional sconce.

Harry was sure they had to be miles below Diagon Alley by now, as the floor had steadily angled downwards over the course of the short wizard's silent trek behind the angry goblin. The finely polished granite halls they had been traveling were oddly deserted, as neither wizard- wixen? As the goblin had said earlier- nor goblin could be heard wandering through the soft tapping of their feet.
Unable to keep his worries at bay, Harry hoped his fellow Gryffindors were okay. Harry didn't know much about Hermione's living situation, but he knew Ron wouldn't be able to pay the fine. If he has enough in his own vaults- and it made Harry uncomfortable to think that he hadn't known he had more than one- he'd pay for Ron's. If wasn't like Ron would've robbed Gringotts had he not been in on Harry's scheme anyway, so it was only fair.
Abruptly, the goblin he had been following for quite some time now barked out some sharp sounds that must have been gobbledygook, for doors he had not seen before that moment silently began to open.
The sight that lay behind the tall, stone doors was nothing less than intimidating. The huge cavernous room that was presented was filled with goblins in full warrior regalia lined up on either sides of the room, leaving enough space for only two humans to walk side-by-side down the center of them. The narrow isle lead straight up to a set of steps which sat before the might of a huge red gem, upon which was carved a throne that looked sharp enough to cut skin with. Upon this throne sat a goblin that held the same fierce countenance of all his warriors. His bearing was stiff, with a sneer upon his chapped lips and white wisps of hair twirled around a metal crown. His fingers curled angrily around an axe that lay innocently in his lap.
Harry attempted to look unafraid as he, along with his goblin guide, walked down the empty line, being poked and prodded with the tips of sharp weapons all the while. And as they were approaching the throne, Harry kept his eyes low, assuming the best way to survive this encounter was through emulating the mannerisms of the goblins around him.
His guide, the goblin from the office- whom he had never been given the name of- knelt down swiftly, head bowed and a hand fisted over his temple, proving agility far beyond what his older body looked capable of. Harry quickly scrambled to followed suit, though not without nearly toppling over upon his kneeling. Snickers and sneers filled the otherwise-silent throne room.
"Rise, Rotleg. You may return to your post."
"Yes, Your Majesty." The goblin beside Harry stood, bowing his head once in respect before turning to depart, leaving the black-haired wizard on his own. After a moment of silence, the Goblin King broke the heavy silence.
"Who are you, imposter?" he barked.
Harry flinched, his head whipping up to stare into the Goblin King's weathered face in shock. The eighteen-year-old barely remembered to keep himself in the bow.
"I-I'm sorry?" the surprised wizard stuttered. "Your Majesty," he quickly added when he realized his lapse. Golden eyes caught Harry's electric green in a piercing stare.
"You are not a wizard," a gnarled hand came up to rub at a sharp, but wrinkled chin, "at least, not originally... Drop your glamours, boy."
Wincing, and know he could not deny the ruler, Harry looked down in shame as he let his magic relax from its rigid shell around him.

The most obvious thing to change was his figure, as most of the fat present on any one part of Harry's body disappeared. His hair, once bedraggled but clean, was ratty and dull, knotted everywhere. His skin was tan but burnt in many places, peeling terribly around the shoulders and neck, which could be seen through the threadbare clothes now revealed to be in worse repair than originally. Bruises, welts, and scars littered the unrecognizable figure of the Wizarding World's Savior. The King looked down upon the almost skeletal being kneeling at the foot of his throne in mild disgust and pity, but it was soon replaced with an insatiable anger.
"You think to fool me, creature? Did you think I would be that naive?"
Dull and pale green eyes turned back up to the King, and the goblin was interested to see true uncertainty in their depths. Humans, so easily read.
"Axebrine, go retrieve Dripfang and Gargle to preform the test." As scuttling sounded from the back of the silent room, the Gobkin King's next words easily reached the ears of many.
"It would seem that there are still influences we do not know about."