"Shite, I wonder if that means I have to compete," Harry fretted, not wanting to lose the vaults, but he really didn't want to play in those deadly games. Even if what Luna said was true, and it was all about intent, he wanted some practice before he competed in anything.
"Don't be foolish, if you didn't enter your name then you are not obliged to fulfil the contract," the goblin said as he led the boy to the lobby. "We do know how contracts work, and magical contracts cannot be forced. Magic doesn't work that way, or people would be forcing contracts on others all the time, what with the spells you humans have."
"I guess that makes sense," Harry said relieved.
They came to an empty counter and Snarlfist waved his hand over another stone bowl and two keys appeared. "Everything your family owned is in these vaults. Don't ask us what, we don't know and we don't care. As long as the fees are paid, then you keep the vaults."
"So you're more of a storage facility and less of a bank?" Harry hedged, not wanting to piss him off more than he already had. He just wanted some money to spend, not pick a fight with beings that were probably fiercer than they looked.
"When it comes to the vaults, yes, however, we do make loans, exchange money, and other such services. The pure-blooded families would never let us lower beings control their finances," the goblin snarled menacingly as if it were Harry's fault.
Harry remembered the coin man from London and couldn't help think, 'Loan sharks and thieves.' He made a mental note to himself to move his gold elsewhere as soon as he could. Right now though, he nodded, took the keys and said, "Thanks, you've been very helpful. Can I go to my family vault please?"
"Right this way," Snarlfist said a bit snidely.
The Twin's POV
Ron was headed to bed, when his twin brothers each took an arm, and hauled him into the empty Headboy's room. They all but threw him on the bed and stood in front of the door. "What?" the youngest redheaded boy snapped, but with a very worried look in his eyes. He knew damn well what they wanted. He just hoped they believed him.
"Want to tell us why you had Harry's stuff in your trunk?" Fred asked as he folded his arms across his chest. He wanted to believe that his brother was not a thief, but the evidence was just too much. There was no good reason for what they found.
"Yes, do tell us why we shouldn't tell Mum and Dad," George added, mimicking his twin. He too was severely disappointed with tonight's events.
"I was holding it for him," Ron said, lifting his chin up.
"Right, you hate Harry right now, so why would you protect his things?" Fred said with a disbelieving shake of his head. "You could've just cast a locking charm on his trunk, or had an upper-year do so," he pointed out.
"I was!" their younger brother shouted. "If I did that someone could have just taken the trunk. I was keeping his stuff hidden in mine."
"Ron, stop lying," George snapped as he narrowed his eyes. "You've never been able to, not with us. Now tell us the truth." Ron had a tell, his left eyebrow twitched when he lied. They never told him, of course. If they had the boy would just learn not to do it. Right now, that twitch was there, so he wasn't telling the truth or at least on all of it.
"No, I really was, I was going to give it back if he returned," Ron said, rubbing his nose, his tell showing. "But, I thought he was gone for good and it was all just sitting there, so I reckoned why let it go to waste. Not that I wanted him dead, or even thought that he was, but I figured he ran away like a bloody coward and wasn't coming back. I mean why else would he have left his dad's cloak behind?" He shrugged as if it was obvious.
"That is still stealing. You have no right to any of Harry's things unless he gives them to you or wills them to you, you idiot," Fred snarled, walking forward and getting into Ron's face. "Even if he did run away, the professors would've packed his things up and sent them to the bank," he explained to his little brother. "Then after this whole thing blew over he could collect them. They aren't your things, you have no right to them," he finished, poking Ron in the chest.
Ron stood and pushed him back. "Why the bloody hell not? Do you know how many times I've almost died because of him and his need to 'save people'? The troll, the chest game, the huge ruddy spiders," here he shivered, "the cave in, and his bloody godfather. Every time something's going on with Harry Bloody Potter, I'm stuck getting hurt. And what do I get for my trouble? He goes and enters the tournament behind my back!" he yelled. "He owes me," he stated firmly.
"First off, the troll was partially your fault. If you hadn't been such an arse to Hermione none of you would have been there," George said, ticking that off on his fingers.
"Second, you volunteered to go and help with the stone, and got points for it," Fred said, lifting two fingers. "You bragged about it all summer, until Mum threatened to magic your mouth shut."
"Third, what spiders?" George said, thinking back over that year and wondering what Ron was talking about.