By Lord Wrackspurt

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This Chapter is a continuation of a novel length fan-fiction story which replaces the final book in the Harry Potter series. This story is a work of fan-fiction based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling and her publishers. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

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Chapter 9: The Goblin Express

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Harry cringed in terror, while the officers continued to laugh at his plight. Thoughts of the gut wrenching agony he had already witnessed that day from the Constable and the Durmstang student flashed through his mind. The fast clicking of the boot heels came to stop in front of him, and he closed his eyes and braced himself for trauma about to be inflicted upon him. But Mistress Desiree said nothing; she stood there before Harry and stared at his upturned face for a few seconds. Then she used the tip of her wand to move aside the curls of hair covering the scar on Harry’s forehead, the scar Voldemort had given him the night he had killed Harry’s parents. Seeing the scar there, she gave a short gasp.

“Please release him immediately,” she said to the officers, as Harry dared open his eyes again. “There’s been a mistake made. I thought he was someone else.” Looking back at Harry, she said, “Please forgive us, Sir, it was a case of mistaken identity.”

The two officers put Harry back on his feet and reluctantly released him, but they both looked confused … and disappointed. Mistress Desiree was adamant that they go about their business, and they seemed accustomed to taking orders from her.

“I’m sorry about that, Harry, we didn’t know you would be coming here this soon,” she said. Seeing his injuries, she held up his arm and with her wand healed the tear in his flesh. The seething pain in his joint went away. She then repaired his clothes. “Please don’t think too badly of us here. We have to be wary of troublemakers.”

“Who are you?” Harry asked. “How do you know my name, and why were those people in there acting that way towards me?”

“I am Desiree, I am the operations manager in charge of the Golden Unicorn,” she said. “As for the other, I suggest you see a goblin named Fartzmellar at Gringott’s bank.”

“I have an appointment to see him tomorrow morning,” said Harry.

“Excellent,” she said with a genuine smile towards Harry. “All will be explained then. May I suggest that for now you leave here, and that you not tell anyone what happened to you tonight? And I do mean no one. I promise you’ll understand why tomorrow.”

Harry trudged through the thronging crowds back down the hill towards the old town totally bewildered by what had just happened. In less than ten hours he’d already had two run-ins with the police. Getting back to his rooms, he could see that Tonks was already in on her side of the suite. From the moans and groans he was hearing he knew that she had company.

Peeking through the doorway Harry saw Tonks in bed kneeling over Phingarbang. She was riding him cowgirl style, and just cooing about how good it felt. From what Harry could see Phingarbang’s cock was almost as big as one of those male dancer’s cocks he’d seen earlier. However, this one was going straight in and out of Tonks, and she was loving every minute of it. Propriety, and the inability to handle the discovery, caused Harry to leave the door and go to his own room. There he prepared for bed and grudgingly went to sleep. The last thing Harry remembered was hearing Tonks squealing as her new lover brought her to orgasm.

The next morning Harry awoke in bed alone. Tonks was not in her suite, nor was her new lover, Phingarbang, there. She probably had business of her own to tend. Harry washed and dressed himself, then went downstairs for breakfast. The hotel had a decent restaurant on the lobby floor. The food was not as good as the fare at Hogwarts, but definitely better than anything he had been used to at the Dursleys. Returning to the room, Harry gathered the legal notice and left a note for Tonks telling her where he had gone. He then set out for Gringotts to see this Fartzmellar goblin about his parent’s estate.

As Harry strolled down the street he spied Constable McCann walking with a pronounced limp on the other side of the street. He saw Harry and immediately nodded respectfully while he touched the brim of his cap, but the look on his face was anything but friendly. The thought of that toerag lying in the street yesterday returned to Harry and left him chuckling to himself until he reached the doors of Gringotts.

Looking at it from the outside, the bank appeared to be only a small branch office that fitted between a larger set of offices and shops. The entry hall confirmed this belief as it was quite small with a short lobby and teller cages. The back of the lobby had two small managers offices and a short side hallway behind them that seemed to lead to nowhere, it just ended at a large portrait of an old man. The teller cages in the entry hall had muggle servants who maintained the façade of the bank for any muggles that might show up needing banking services.

As the letter had instructed, Harry went straight to the portrait at the end of the hallway. The old man in the portrait had an odd-looking hat upon his head and was holding a beautiful jewel encrusted sword aloft at the heavens. Harry immediately recognized the hat and the sword; he had seen them both at Hogwarts. They were the Sorting Hat and the sword of Godric Gryffindor. That’s whose portrait it was, Gryffindor. When Harry touched his wand to the door, it opened and he entered the main chamber where the real bank for wizards was located. The goblin’s looked briefly at Harry as he entered, but seemed to take little notice of him.

Harry went to the Head Teller’s cage and waited until the goblin finally decided to peer down at him with disdain through his half-round spectacles. “How may I be of service to you, Sir?” he asked with a bored, bureaucratic-mandated politeness that let you know he really didn’t give a shit if you lived or died.

“I have a letter from the bank asking me to meet with a Mister Fartzmellar to discuss an estate settlement he is presently engaged in completing,” Harry said, while handing over the letter. The goblin scanned over the letter quickly, but Harry noticed that the goblin reacted when he saw to whom the letter was addressed.

“So you would be Mr. Potter then?”

“I am.”

“Please be seated for a moment while I contact Mr. Fartzmellar,” said the goblin motioning to a set of uncomfortable looking wooden chairs. Harry had waited about two minutes when the goblin appeared beside him and said “Mr. Fartzmellar will see you now, please follow me, Sir.”

Harry was then led through what appeared to him to be a labyrinth of corridors full of closed doors that had no markings of any kind on them. They all appeared to be the same, and Harry was lost after only a few turns. Fortunately, his goblin escort seemed to know exactly where he was going at all times. Harry soon realized that an intruder in this maze would quickly become hopelessly lost, and would be left to wander the empty hallways until exhausted, or worse. The goblins were never known for showing mercy, even to their own kind, and the Ministry made a point of letting them handle their internal affairs as they saw fit.

Eventually they stopped before an office door and Harry was shown in. Seated at the desk in the room was a well-dressed elderly looking goblin. He got out of his chair and walked to meet Harry.

“Welcome, Mr. Potter. We have awaited you with anticipation. You are quite famous here you know, many still remember that awful night when your family met with tragedy.”

“Thank you, Sir,” replied Harry as he was seated in front of the desk. “I went by and saw their graves for the first time yesterday afternoon. The site seemed to have been well tended over the years.”

“Yes, we try to keep everything neat and orderly here. I can assure you that your parent’s estate, held in trust as your principle inheritance, has been kept safe while in the custody of the bank and the executor. In addition, the will of Sirius Black left a considerable sum of gold and property to that which your parents left you. At present, your total account with our bank stands at 60,488,071 Galleons, 11 Sickels, and 2 Knuts. However, this only represents the cash money presently on hand. In addition to Grimmauld Place, bequeathed to you by your late godfather, your parent’s real estate holdings include 3 separate properties in the Godric’s Hollow area which are valued at approximately 15 million Galleons collectively.”

“Ahhhh … thank you again, Sir,” said an astonished Harry. He wasn’t sure if he had heard the old goblin correctly. “Could you give me the figures again in muggle pounds?”

“Of course, Sir, you have cash holdings of approximately 302 million Pounds, and residential and business property valued at approximately 75 million Pounds more.”

Harry could only sit there stunned for a minute while it sank in just how bloody rich he really was. “I must inform you, Sir, that I am totally ignorant of exactly what constitutes my parent’s estate. What exactly are these properties?”

“Yes, I am aware of the special circumstances of your situation. Your parents had made provision in event of their untimely deaths for your godfather, Mr. Black, to act as your guardian. As I believe you know, he was unable to accept that commitment. Professor Dumbledore managed to get the Ministry to allow him to become your guardian after that, and serve as executor of your estate until you reached maturity.”

Harry jumped at the news. “Professor Dumbledore has been my guardian since my parents were killed? I was never told that.”

“It was never made a public thing you understand. His lifestyle interests made him what would normally be considered an unacceptable choice for raising a young boy alone.”

“You mean him being a poof and all,” said Harry.

“You knew about that did you?”

“How could you not know, he wore a gown that looked like a dress and funny hats all the time, he had more rings on his fingers than my aunt had in her whole jewelry box. Anyone at Hogwarts with enough sense to know which end of the wand the spell comes out of knew he was an old homo, we just didn’t mind it was all.”

“Well, that said, Dumbledore accepted responsibility for you, and then placed you with your muggle relations to protect you from vengeful Death Eaters. That act probably saved your life. Dumbledore was one of the very few who knew of your parent’s business interests; he took over control of your family business and kept it secret as well.”

“What family business, what exactly is my inheritance?”

“First of all, Mr. Potter, you are the owner of a small section of property in the outskirts of Godric’s Hollow. The frame house that inhabits that land was badly damaged the night your parents were killed. Professor Dumbledore left the site abandoned and it has remained a vacant ruin. It has little value unless you want to demolish the house and sell the land. Second, you are the owner of a luxury villa and woodland on the former outskirts of the Hill area of Godric’s Hollow. This estate was used by your parents their last year of life as a country home. Now the Hill region has grown out so that this is a suburban district, with a tremendous increase in property value I might add. It is valued in the neighborhood of four to five million Galleons in itself. Since you were placed with your Mother’s muggle relations, the villa has been leased to wealthy patrons for discreet vacations. The operation is quite profitable, Sir. We at Gringotts hope you will continue the leasing agreement. I assure you it would be in your own interest to find another estate, and move there, and retain the villa as a pleasure resort.”

“Well, I still have a year remaining at Hogwarts,” said Harry.

“Excellent, then you won’t need the property for yourself,” said the Goblin with a smile. “Lastly, and most importantly, you, Sir, are the sole proprietor of the Golden Unicorn, the most profitable business operation in Godric’s Hollow, in all of magical Britain I might add. We at the bank have thus far handled the political, legal, and financial necessities in a consortium with the past proprietors. In return the bank realizes one fourth of the profits after expenses, and is given special dispensation in the use of the facilities.”

“Wait a minute — I own the Golden Unicorn,” said a dazed Harry. “I own the biggest whorehouse in Britain!”

“Oh, it’s not just a common house of ill repute, Sir. It is an adult pleasure palace beyond all compare. The customers stand in line to pay extravagant prices to partake of your premium wares. Your parents were some of the shrewdest business people I’ve ever met … for humans that is.”

“No, no … I own a whore house! You’re telling me my dad was a pimp, and my mum was a whorehouse madam. Oh, fuck me now.”

“Sir, your parents ran the establishment in secrecy. Only a very few knew that they were the real owners. You see, nearly 20 years ago your father and his partner, Sirius Black, discovered in their travels a unique band of magical creatures. These were a tribe of elves that had apparently been isolated and interbred unnoticed over a long time. For some strange reason they immediately considered your father to be their rightful master, and obeyed him, and only him.

“It is the nature of elves to try and satisfy their master’s desires, and this group had been bred to satisfy sexual desires. Their powers had been intensified over centuries of inbreeding to where they can manipulate their bodies; they can read the mind of the witch or wizard, and become what that person desires them to be. They morph into a different person just by thought. They can use their powerful magic to create glamour around them. The customer can satisfy his or her lust in a partner of their choice; either in the form of a real person they know, or a complete creation of their fantasies. When the job is done, the elf transforms again to another form. There is no disease, no pregnancy, just totally safe sex in an extremely discrete setting. What happens in the Unicorn stays in the Unicorn. The elves can morph into nearly anything. On the lower floor the elves even transform into the security personnel who protect the Unicorn’s interior.”

“I went in there last night,” Harry said. “The people working there acted like they knew me. One of the security goons came over and they grabbed me, then they apologized and dropped to their knees begging me to forgive them. I had no idea what was going on.”

“But of course,” laughed the elderly goblin. “Those were not real people, Sir. They were elves, your elves. All of them are in hereditary service to the Potter family, and they recognized you as their new master returned to them, the last of the ancient Potter clan. Apparently, they were bonded in the distant past to an ancestor of yours. They accept you as their master because they recognized your father’s bloodline in you.”

“Who am I related to that they would have served way back then?” asked Harry.

“I don’t know, neither did your father. For that matter, neither did the elves themselves. The old elves who would have known had died out years before, which given the long lifetime of elves means it was a long, long time ago. The present elves simply have a hereditary memory of the master’s bloodline whom they are obligated to serve. Your father was then the inheritor of the bloodline, now it’s you.”

“Last night, there was a woman there, she was so beautiful, but very frightening too. I just stared at her, and I wanted her so badly. She had this strange look on her face when she saw what was happening.”

“Ah, you met Desiree, the present madam who supervises the operations. Her full name is Desiree Delacour. All men who are in her presence desire to have her because she is a pure blood Veela. She lives there with her two daughters.”

“Delacour!” said Harry. “Are the daughters names Fleur and Gabrielle?”

“Oh, so you know them,” said Fartzmellar.

“I met her briefly at Hogwarts about two years ago, the girls too.” Harry now remembered that this was the woman who had attended the final event of the Triwizarding contest at Hogwarts that he and Fleur had participated in. That was where he knew her from. He had been so nervous and frightened at the time he had barely noticed her, despite her beauty.

“Well, Mr. Potter, I’ll send a message to Desiree, and we’ll travel over to the Unicorn so you can get acquainted with your new property. Since I assume you’ll wish to continue to use discretion concerning the Potter family involvement with the operation we’ll use the Goblin Express if you wish.”

“What’s the Goblin express?” asked Harry.

“The area underneath the Hollow and the hill is honeycombed with tunnels. We goblins use trams we built in the tunnels to get around discretely and keep tabs on our business interests without being seen. It’s a secure way to transfer funds also. There is a direct line from the bank to the Golden Unicorn.”

Fartzmellar led Harry out into the maze of hallways again and after a few minutes they came to an elevator that had none of the usual pushbuttons or other controls on it. The goblin merely scratched the seam in the doorway and it opened. They went down for several minutes, Harry had no idea how far underground they were, but it was a long ways down. The elevator opened into a large room with several goblins pulling wagons loaded with gold and silver coins.

All the goblins in this room looked quite different from Fartzmellar, and those in the bank offices above. They were dressed almost like house elves, with only a long shirt like garment that went to their knees and simple Roman styled sandals for footwear. Upon Fartzmellar’s entry all of them immediately averted their eyes down and bowed their heads as they passed by. The one exception was a similarly clad goblin who was having trouble with his wagon load of coins and was blocking the pathway, he didn’t see Fartzmellar and Harry enter.

“Out of my way, you stupid Gimlick,” Fartzmellar shouted savagely as he stomped the worker goblin in the back, driving him to the stone floor. “Pay attention or I’ll have you put in the cook pot.”

The goblin on the floor cringed in terror and curled up in a ball with his hands over his face as Fartzmellar gave him another sharp kick in the side that made the goblin squeek, and Harry wince in empathy. It reminded him of the times Dudley had knocked him down and beaten and kicked him till he had begged for mercy, while his dear Aunt and Uncle looked on laughing and giving Dudley encouragement.

“My apologies for their clumsiness, this way, Sir,” said Harry’s guide with a wave of his clawed hand, drawing Harry’s mind back to the present. Before them was a small trolley car on a set of rails that went into a tunnel. Boarding the trolley, Fartzmellar took the control wheel and set the pointer arrow to ‘Golden Unicorn.’ The car lurched and took off seeming to know how to get there on its own.

Harry’s goblin guide sat down beside him. “It’ll be a few minutes. There is one other thing you should know about before we get there. The Golden Unicorn is host to many powerful persons who come there for entertainment that they would strongly prefer not to have others know about. Before your parents were killed there was a movement by certain bureaucrats to try to have the Ministry takeover control of the Hill, with a special effort to take control of the Unicorn. Without the Unicorn the Hill is just another resort town in the north country.”

“Did they want to shut it all down?” asked Harry.

“Oh, my goodness, no,” replied Fartzmellar. “The Unicorn is a gold mine, not only of money but pure power. They wanted to control the operation, mine it for money and political favors in exchange for realizing your most outlandish sexual fantasy. They would have the dirt on everyone who is their opponent that ever spent an evening there, plus they could grant themselves unlimited usage privileges.”

“What stopped them from taking over?” asked Harry.

“Two things. One was us, we goblins don’t like the Ministry horning in on our profitable arrangements, and we control many purse strings in Britain and other places, so we have ways of making our displeasure known. The second is that the elves themselves only obeyed your father; they will not accept another master, even by force. Elves have powerful magic in themselves that they can unleash in defense of their master, or against strangers. Of course, if it came to war the Ministry has the combined power to defeat the elves, but that would mean destroying the one thing you fought the war to possess in the first place. Even the Ministry wasn’t that stupid.

“I suspected at the time that some in the Ministry were trying to uncover who was really running the Golden Unicorn. The main leaders of this group were Barty Crouch and Cornelius Fudge. Crouch and Fudge were both very ambitious to be the Minister of Magic. It was obvious that Millicent Bagnold’s failing health would finally force her to retire before much longer. Voldemort couldn’t have risen to such a position of power unchallenged as he did if she had still been in her prime. However, advanced age had weakened her resolve. There were also rumors that Voldemort had received support from inside the Ministry. Things such as details on who opposed him that allowed him to carefully remove the opposition. It also allowed him to cultivate followers, that is how the Death Eaters came into being.

“Back then, Fudge was a member of the Inquisition. In fact, he started out as an Interrogator; I remember Dumbledore telling me that he tried to railroad you on some phony charge a couple of years ago. He pissed off more than a couple of members of the Wizengamot by walking in and claiming he was still an Interrogator whenever he wanted to be, and Minister when he didn’t. That little shenanigan led to your acquittal as much as anything Dumbledore said in your defense.”

“I was never so glad to see Dumbledore walk into a room as that I was that day,” reflected Harry, while thinking back to phony charges Fudge had brought against him. “What about Crouch senior, how did he figure in the plot?”

“Well, Crouch was the Head of the Magical Law Enforcement, between him and Fudge I think they did discover somehow that the real owner was your parents. I do know for a fact that after your parents died Crouch effectively declared Sirius Black guilty of the whole thing, and then, with Fudge’s help, rammed a judgment through the Wizengamot without Black being allowed a trial. He actually wanted Black to receive the Dementor’s kiss immediately, but there was a faction led by Dumbledore who blocked that. The compromise was a life sentence in Azkaban.”

“Sirius Black was innocent of my parent’s death. It was another who betrayed them to Voldemort,” said Harry.

“There were those who had their doubts that Sirius would really do that to your parents. However, Crouch and Fudge’s coalition had too much power for the question of Black’s actual guilt to be questioned at the time. Most accepted what Crouch said as true. Then came the falling out over Crouch’s son being a Death Eater, very convenient for Fudge. His only real rival collapsed, and he expertly distanced himself overnight.

“The suspicious thing was that Fudge pushed hard to get you made a ward of the Ministry. It was known that Sirius became your legal guardian upon your parent’s deaths. With Sirius in Azkaban someone else had to become your guardian. As a ward of the Ministry, Fudge would have been your legal guardian and had control of you. Of course, if he knew that your parents owned the Unicorn, and that your dad was the one the elves obeyed, then he could have figured out that you were the new owner and Master. Whoever controlled you controlled the Unicorn and its elves. That would have placed a great deal of money and political power in that person’s hands.”

“I’ll bet that’s when Dumbledore stepped in,” said Harry.

“Exactly, Dumbledore was the only wizard with the power to stand up to Fudge. He said that the protection he could invoke through your mother’s bloodline was the only sure protection against the Death Eater’s revenge. So Dumbledore became your official guardian and sent you to live with the muggles, you were safe from Death Eaters all right, but you were also safe from Fudge.”

“Fudge probably didn’t like that one bit.”

“Absolutely, he never forgave Dumbledore for making him back down publicly. Dumbledore was shrewd, and after you returned to our world Dumbledore had you under his watchful eye at Hogwarts. Then other things happened. Black’s escape sent Fudge into a terror. He had helped railroad Black into prison without a trial. He claimed he was afraid that Black would seek vengeance, but he seemed more frightened that anyone would come in contact with Black.”

“He was afraid they’d find out that Sirius was innocent,” said Harry. “That’s why he tried to have Sirius kissed by the Dementor’s at Hogwarts. To silence him for good.”

“Then there was Crouch’s death at Hogwarts which frightened him even more. Then young Crouch was found still alive, but he conveniently had Barty silenced before he could be questioned. It would have been interesting to have learned how Crouch’s own son was inducted into the Death Eater ranks. Particularly if it turned out that Voldemort targeted young Crouch, and used mind control to bring him over to dark magic. But who would want to see that happen? Finally, after you announced that Voldemort had returned it was rumored that Fudge went into an awful panic. He very disingenuously orchestrated a whisper campaign to discredit Dumbledore as being a homosexual, and thus unfit to run a school for children.”

“Why was that disingenuous, Sir?” asked Harry.

“Well, for two reasons, everybody already knew about Dumbledore, so it made it look as if Fudge was just now figuring it out; and also because Fudge is a closet assbandit himself. Everyone who knew Fudge was aware of it. So, if a homosexual couldn’t run a school, then how could one run the Ministry?” laughed the old Goblin. “Still, he was desperate to get his old chum from his Inquisition days, Madam Umbridge, in at Hogwarts with an agenda for the Ministry to take over the school. There was even an attempt by Fudge to have you committed and made a ward of the Ministry, but by that time Fudge was already losing his peripheral support and it went nowhere.”

“I knew he was behind that, him and Umbridge. She even got some Dementors to try to kiss me at the start of that year to shut me up. She said she did it on her own, but I wonder.”

“Then she lied to you, Mr. Potter. The Dementors would not have attacked you or anyone else because Umbridge asked them to. The only one who could wield that kind of authority would be the Minister. Only a senior official like Fudge could have ordered the Dementors to do that, not Umbridge. If anything, she just supervised the attack. They would fear the consequences otherwise.”

Harry had never liked Fudge, but now it was becoming more than dislike. Some things were now starting to make sense. What if Fudge were involved in more than anyone knew.

“Sir, do you remember the person who Sirius Black was accused of killing, Peter Pettigrew?” asked Harry.

“Yes, vaguely”

“Can you tell me if he worked in the Ministry?”

“Well, yes, I believe he did. He was a junior clerk in the Ministry; in fact … now that you mention it, I think he worked for Cornelius Fudge before he became Minister.”

The more than dislike in Harry’s mind was quickly forming into hatred. This was too much to be mere coincidence. Fudge had to have been involved in his parent’s death, somehow he was conspiring with Voldemort back then, and maybe he still was. Ever since the attack on Azkaban, Fudge had been pushing to get himself returned to power on a platform of conciliation with Voldemort. Many pieces were coming together now.

Thinking back to the old goblin’s words gave Harry another pause. “Sir, you said the Dementors wouldn’t have done it for Umbridge because they feared the consequences. What consequences … I mean you can’t hurt a Dementor, only drive it away. What would they fear?”

The old Goblin laughed a bit, “Even though they act like they are invulnerable, there are ways to destroy a Dementor, though few wizards know how anymore.”

“How do you go about destroying a Dementor, it’s a spirit, there’s nothing real inside to kill?” Harry asked.

“Exactly, a Dementor is just a malicious spirit in semi-corporeal form. My understanding from what I was told long ago as a young goblin was that if you wanted to get rid of a spirit, you had to trap it in a specially cut crystal container, with a shield spell placed on it. Whatever you did to the crystal happened to the spirit. Shatter the crystal and you destroy the spirit. But it takes a pretty good sorcerer to do magic like that.”

The trolley came to a stop with a slight lurch. “We’re here, Sir,” said Fartzmellar.

To Harry’s eyes here meant nothing. All through the ride along the goblin express Harry had seen no doors or other passages. All he could see around him were rough rock walls. The goblin grinned as he saw the puzzled look on Harry’s face.

“Really, Mister Potter,” he said with a toothy grin. “You don’t think we’re dumb enough to leave doors with signs saying ‘Secret Entrance Here’ on them do you?”

As before, he ran a gnarled claw down the rock face beside the trolley door, the rock opened up to reveal another elevator. Entering the elevator Harry felt it rising up towards the surface again. Although the ride over had been very enlightening, Harry would be glad to get out in the fresh air and sunshine again. When the door opened, Harry saw that he was in a corridor that felt as though he was still deep underground. Like a basement area maybe.

The goblin took the lead and led Harry through the door at the other end of the hallway. Inside was a large room that looked like a company canteen but with a number of tiny elf sized chairs and tables around the walls of the room. In the middle of the room stood a number of odd looking house elves. They were slightly taller that those Harry knew from Hogwarts, and each had on a spotless white sack-like uniform. As Harry entered the room, all the elves went to their knees and raised their hands in the air.

“He is here! He is here! Master has returned to us!” they all cried joyously. Many wept tears of joy as they stared at Harry. Harry was taken quite unawares and wasn’t sure what to say or do. In from the other doorway walked the beautiful creature he had seen the night before, behind her came two people he already knew, Fleur and Gabrielle Delacour. Fleur was even more beautiful than the first time he had seen her, her long platinum blonde hair shimmered, her perfect features, and her sexy, perfectly proportioned body. It was enough to make a man ache just to see her walking by, and she was only half Veela. The surprise was that little Gabrielle had really changed. He had thought her just a little girl when he had seen her only three years ago, but she was definitely not a little girl now.

Gabrielle had definitely grown up a whole lot in that time though she now looked considerably older than he thought she should be. Slightly smaller than her sister, she was every bit her equal in beauty and form. She definitely favored her mother in her looks, except for the eyes. Gabrielle had the most beautiful piercing blue eyes that Harry had ever seen, except that on second glance there was something about them he recognized. He had seen those eyes before, but he wasn’t sure where now.

They approached Harry and then knelt on one knee before him. Harry couldn’t believe it, that these beautiful women were kneeling before him. As he stood there flabbergasted, the old goblin stepped forward and began introductions.

“Mr. Harry Potter meet Madam Desiree Delacour, Madam Delacour meet Mr. Potter, the new owner of the Golden Unicorn.”

“Welcome to the Golden Unicorn, Mr. Potter,” she said rising to her feet along with her daughters. “It’s a pleasure to meet you again, Sir.”

“Please call me Harry, everyone does,” said Harry.

“Only if you’ll agree to call me Desiree.”

“That sounds like a fair bargain, Desiree,” said Harry. Harry was already struggling to avoid maintaining eye contact and to keep his trousers from developing a frontal bulge. Harry had thought that she was beautiful last night, but seeing her now was even better. Desiree was wearing a fashionable dress that emphasized her abundant bosom, and narrow waist. Her legs were long and slim, ending in a pair of beautiful high heels. Behind her stood the two girls, more casually dressed, but looking incredibly sexy.

“Hello, Harry,” they said almost as one, grinning as though they were fully aware of Harry’s situation.

“Hello, Fleur, hello, Gabrielle,” said Harry. “I haven’t had a chance to talk to you in a while. What have you been doing?”

“I help momma with running the Unicorn full time now,” said Fleur. “Gabrielle has just finished school at Beaubatons.”

“I thought I might leave Mr. Potter with you, Desiree,” said the Goblin. “That way you could orient him to the facility. In the mean time I was hoping to … perhaps … see if a room was available?”

Desiree smiled at the goblin and nodded, she made a quick motion to an elf in the crowd, and the elf stepped out to follow the goblin through the exit door. Harry tried his best not to think about what was about to happen. It wouldn’t be pretty.

“Well, Harry,” said Desiree. “If you will follow me I’ll take you on the grand tour of the Golden Unicorn, of which you are now the sole owner and proprietor.”