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Quite vexing, the goblins refused to speak to him personally and had forced him to use Sturgis Podmore as an intermediary. That the banker-warriors had the best knowledge of what was happening in his beloved school thanks to their vaults' blood wards and their wards-mastery was adding insult to the injury. Dumbledore himself was only aware of the magical alerts ringing when major violations of the School Chart were reported. To date, it had included the three Unforgivables, several Battle-Spells, the wards of several Professors offices being shattered...the list was enough to make a very good book and it increased each minute.
Fortunately, the member of the Order of the Phoenix was coming back. Fighting not to show his irritation and his impatience, the Headmaster of Hogwarts touched in his pocket the Elder Wand, feeling a small infusion of power the instant his fingers came in contact with the wood.
"How things fare inside the school, Sturgis?" asked the Grand Sorcerer to his subordinate who currently had the role of security expert inside the Order.
"Badly, Chief Warlock" answered with deep respect Podmore. "The goblins haven't the exact detail of everything, but it seems three students and one teacher have already been killed."
This news saddened Dumbledore's heart. Britain had already suffered too many losses during Voldemort's reign of terror. Even now years after, the recovery was far from complete. Close to one hundred and forty thousand wizards and witches lived today in the British Isles. Each of those lives, no matter how perverted by the Dark, was precious and had to be brought back into the Light.
"Who are the victims?" With luck, no Light families would be in mourning tonight and only Obliviations of Muggle-borns parents would be necessary...but the really important issue was the potential Chosen Ones and the future leaders of the new generation. Losing them would require him to change considerably his plans.
"Thomson Carrow of the Noble and Ancient House of Carrow was the first to die. Lewis Wilkes of the Ancient House of Wilkes and Jared Miller of the Ancient House of Miller came next. Professor Kaitlyn Reed of Defence Against the Dark Arts had been murdered a few minutes before the last two."
These names were completely unexpected. Dumbledore could not help but widen his eyes, though his mastery of Occlumency and Legilimency helped him to maintain an assured stance. The Chief Warlock had expected Muggle-borns to be the victims, not the sons of notorious Death Eater families!
As for Professor Reed, this was clearly Tom's Curse acting once again.
A careful examination of the Dark faction's group allowed him to know this information was coming like a cold shower for Lucius Malfoy and his supporters. Lord Miller in particular was losing his nerves and launching strident accusations.
More interesting were the goblins. Dumbledore had heard that the prestige of holding certain vaults was a question of life and death for certain goblins, but in his long life he had never been a witness to these bloody succession questions. Now the Supreme Mugwump had the confirmation under his very eyes, as the crowd of goblins surrounded one of their own and plunged their axes and spears into their body. It was a barbaric spectacle with a shower of blood and guts.
Unless he was very much mistaken, the very dead goblin was the Accountant for the Wilkes vaults. Lewis Wilkes had been a Slytherin seventh-year and the last of his line, due to take the seat of his House next summer in the Wizengamot. According to Severus the young man had already self-proclaimed himself 'Lord Wilkes' in the Den of Snakes. It appeared it had been a very premature idea. House Wilkes was now extinct and the goblins were beginning to murder each other.
The sad part was that there was going to be a similar bloodless fight at the Wizengamot when it came to dividing the Wilkes titles, possessions and money. Montrose, Mulciber, Lament and Nott were all cousins to diverse degrees of the Wilkes. They were all going to want their part of the treasure, this honourless band of vultures.
"Anything more?" demanded the Headmaster, calculating inside his head the probability of raising a new Light House in place of the now destroyed House Wilkes.
"No." Sturgis Podmore grimaced and showed an uncomfortable posture. "The goblin in charge is not one of our greatest admirers. Grimjaw I believe he is called."
The name of the goblin evoked an echo in Dumbledore's memories though he was unable to say the exact circumstances he had heard it before. In the last decades, he had been forced to speak and contact hundreds of the Gringotts branch members and their unpronounceable names gave him a headache. He would have to review the dozen of files he kept on the Gringotts bankers in order to remember the rank of this 'Grimjaw'.
"Regrettable." And Dumbledore was sincere. The Goblin nation had just won one or two more restrictions on their activities. If the goblins proved too stubborn for their own good, they had better not be surprised when the punishments were voted.
In two hours thirty-two minutes and twenty seconds, the wards would be back under his control. Albus Dumbledore swore that whoever had participated in this disaster, by Merlin he was going to teach them a lesson they would never forget. And then...
New screams mounted from the area where the goblin warriors were massed.
"Another student has just died," informed him unnecessarily Podmore.
11 April 1993, Hogwarts, Scotland
If anyone asked her in the next decade whether buying a specimen of super-sized bat for seven hundred Galleons and bribing one Ravenclaw Prefect for one hundred more gold coins was a good idea, Alexandra would answer without hesitation with a firm 'yes'.
The name of the bat species was the 'Queen of Amazonia free-tailed bat'. Chaerephon gigantica if one wanted to use its noble name.
Renowned for its size, the massive flying mammal was three times the size of her snow owl Atalanta. It was totally blind, relying only on its sonar for locating its prey. And it was hunting quasi-exclusively the snakes in the environment of the Southern American forests where it lived, crippling their eyes and the rest of their head with its powerful claws.
All these qualities, Alexandra had concluded, made it the perfect opponent to blind the King of Snakes.
And fortunately, she had been right. Because the animal she had called Tisiphone was the only thing allowing her to stay alive right now.
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