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“Unfortunately,” the goblin began, speaking in a flat monotone that reflected perfectly the boredom across its face. “Your paperwork filed failed to properly address the necessary information. As such, the financial office of monetary loaning has denied your request for funding and your request for additional permits has been denied.”
The single man who entered the documentation smiled. He crossed his leg, ankle resting over one knee. He was relaxed, prim and professional despite the short stool the goblin had provided. The fact the stool was short enough to make sitting awkward, was a fact the man overlooked.
“I see,” he sighed, not sounding disappointed in the slightest. “I’m afraid I must say I am failing to comprehend the difficulty in my documentation. As my right in this formal institution, I may see the director of this request.”
The goblin managed a moment of outright bafflement. It glared, small fangs overhanging sharply as his jaw stuck out.
“Sir, you failed to file in your name correctly.”
The man’s smile did not falter. “I am failing to comprehend the difficulty.”
The goblin inhaled through its nose then exhaled shortly. It stood, the small ink well on its desk rattled as it stormed off.
The man crossed his leg calmly, and waited.
The stool was uncomfortable, the room was dingy and one of the more unsettling room. Considering just how much of the documents he had left blank, it was a marvel the goblin was even meeting with him at all. He could wait anyways, he was simply utilizing a loophole in the rules of the customer service of Gringotts itself. It didn’t necessarily mean that he had to be treated well- the uncomfortable stool he was perched on spoke enough to that.
He waited for what felt like an hour, and likely was more. He didn’t stand up once, using patience as his ally. Time continued and the room was untouched.
Finally, finally, the door opened. It was nearing two hours now.
“Hello.” The new Goblin grumbled, wearing a small suit and finely crafted metal scales over its arm. It looked incredibly high ranking, long ears pointed backwards with golden studs on the tip. “I am Bangor, the Head of Magical Funds and Permit Allowance. I have been called in on request to explain the difficulties of your mediocre paperwork.”
Tom Riddle smiled, and finally unraveled his legs into a calm confident sitting posture.
“A pleasure to meet you, Master Goblin.” Tom smiled, sliding forward slightly more to sit closer to the desk, “I presume you must be incredibly busy.”
“I am.” Bangor bluntly bit out, looking curious but predominantly frustrated. “I am here to explain your insufficient paperwork-.”
“I implore,” Tom interrupted smoothly and carefully, pulling from the inside of his robe a sheaf of thick parchment, contained by a careful ribbon and wax seal. “I have the properly written documentation here as well as additional requests for property usage, arrangement for monetary trading arrangements, request for membership in the Goblin Legal Representative Administration as well as utilization of Goblin Lawyers.”
The sheaf of parchment was set on the desk between them, easily as thick around as a grown man’s thigh. It unrolled itself carefully, the thick wax seal keeping all additional papers and files in proper location.
The goblin, looked positively baffled.
“Of course,” Tom Riddle added on smoothly, “if you prefer to discuss all additional paperwork or to review the documents presented, I will return another day. I believe that you will find all documentation adequate.”
The goblin paused, removing its small glasses to rub its eye with one hand. “You waited to present this information now, why?”
“Gringott’s policies mandate that the representative which manages the first official exchange will therefore be director of all documentation afterwards.” Tom smiled pleasantly, “I hate to deal with those unqualified for my requests, you see.”
“And you believe that only I am suitable for your requests?”
“I know you are.” Tom sighed gently, tapping his fingers on his opposite arm. “I am planning something quite...challenging. I require those with proper credentials in the unlikely case where further resources are necessary.”
“You requested aid for Goblin Lawyers.” Bangor repeated lowly. “Gringotts does not comply with the exchange or use of restricted magical artifacts.”
“You misunderstand,” Tom corrected. “I am certain you are familiar with the recent legality framework which passed the Minister’s desk earlier last week?”
The master goblin nodded shortly. “Of course. Goblins always remain current with the affairs of wizarding law. You are referring to amendment 143, restricting the selection pool of eligible wizards for public office?”
Bangor did not miss the way that Tom Riddle’s hand twitched.
“I am,” Tom Riddle responded, voice slightly darker than before. “I have personal... disdain for such legislature. As such, former plans of mine have been made impossible and I find myself at rather an impasse. I aspire to change the policies of this country, but of course that seems rather challenging in face of such law.”’
The goblin frowned and leaned back on his much more ornate and comfortable chair.
“I see,” the goblin paused, tapping its chin in thought. “You request finances to construct a neutral party for campaign influence?”
Tom looked amused by the prospect. “Ah, nothing so meaningless, master goblin. I aim to challenge the laws of this country and reveal to the masses the flaws in our fine legal system. I find the structure and framework of such restrictions rather...flimsy, under proper tension or stress.”
The goblin inhaled sharply, eyes widening in disbelief over the incredibly subtle announcement.
“You are planning a coupe?” The goblin nearly shouted, showing some restraint. “In these times? Your request is impossible! Absolute nonsense and I should have you removed from my establishment-.”
Tom Riddle reached into his robe, pulling out another sheaf of parchment. This one looked stamped, a small tingling buzz that all legal paperwork held. Tom held it carefully, offering the paper rather calmly.
“Here are my official OWL’s and NEWT scores from my schooling years.” Tom passed the paperwork. He withdrew more from his pocket, it too buzzing with the official ministry notarization. “Additionally, I have provided other documentation. Retrieved scores from the Ministry Apparation Licensing test. Documentation from my Advanced Practical Exam for Defensive and Offensive Magic, recommendation and national scoring on Advanced Placement Potions. My published report and educational study conducted in my Hogwart’s years, as well as my list of Educational commendations based on performance.”
The goblin took the papers, quickly unraveling to scan over the contents critically. It took the first two papers before the goblin paled, quickly flipping through the information and scores before unraveling the perfect knot on the thicker documentation for legal aid.
The goblin cross examined, muttering under its breath as it quickly flipped through the paperwork. It looked more and more surprised and amazed, staring at the small numbers that rated Tom Riddle’s performance against those of other magical institutions across the world.
“I’m not aiming for something as bold and as distasteful as a coupe, Master Goblin.” Tom sighed, sounding disappointed for the creature to judge him so quickly. “That wouldn’t accomplish anything.”
The goblin licked its lips, adjusting its glasses quickly. “I apologize, Mr. Riddle, for such hasty assumptions on your character. I see now why you requested my personal aid. May I inquire as to your direct and formal proposition?”
Tom smiled, it was savage and cruel.
“I’m very displeased with the legislature that has passed through the Ministry of Magic,” Tom began, sighing and clicking his tongue as if scolding a child. “I aim to alter the status of the Ministry, as well as the public opinion. Perhaps an eventual upheaval of the institution from an external stance.”
The goblin cleared its throat. “You aim for a rebellion at best, a coupe at worst. How are you aiming to achieve such a thing without bloodshed? Without an entire front attacking an international party? The accomplishments of one man- no matter how phenomenal they are, can only accomplish so much.”
Tom laughed, sharp and clear in the room. Tom shook his head, looking delighted at the challenge in the goblin’s question.
“Oh, Master Goblin Bangor, I believe you’ll find that I am a very, very petty man.”
Tom Riddle graduated Hogwarts with outstanding marks. He exceeded in all of his classes, scoring as the highest student in his year. He was within the top ten highest marks in Hogwarts history, scoring a gilded trophy to add to Hogwart’s halls.
He had a dozen papers with calligraphy announcing his awards. Awards for accomplishments, awards for highest scores on tests. Awards for being one of the select few able to successfully brew a difficult potion. Awards for spell creation. Recommendations from nearly all his teachers. References from those in high power.
All of it led to this moment in his life.
Tom Riddle was the proud owner, of a traveling sales cart.
Granted, it wasn’t much of a traveling cart now that it was stationary. It was large, extending just over the size of most carts. Restored stained wood, decorative flowers on each end. Currently, it was filled with produce of various kinds. Contained in baskets, gleaming and fresh in the light.
Tom reclined, basking in bliss and glory over his bushels of tomatoes.
(Tom almost smiled, when after the third day he was finally approached.)
“Sir,” A man spoke up, wearing a bland ministry robe. He had a clipboard and quill, he looked positively exhausted and far too tired to truly argue with Tom’s vegetable shenanigans. “Documentation please.”
Tom inhaled, and prepared himself.
“Of course,” Tom soothed, pulling out the sheaf of paperwork he had prepared days before. The ministry man unrolled it, skimming through the paperwork with a bored eye.
“Sorry sir, you’re lacking the necessary documentation.” The man drolled on, pointing the single quill at the small unsuspecting bushel of potatoes. “Extra paperwork is necessary for the sale of potatoes.”
Tom nodded slowly, “of course. Potatoes, may I inquire as to which law in particular you are referencing?”
The man paused, looking struck. Obviously he had never gotten this far.
“Are you discussing the England Order, or the Wizarding amendment for agricultural crops?”
The man stumbled, “ah- the wizarding amendment for agricultural import and sale.”
Tom nodded pleasantly, smiling casually as if he weren’t about to crush the man’s luck at a future promotion. “Unfortunately, the Wizarding amendment for the import and sale of agricultural produce only applies to Asian imported crops as well as German produce. These potatoes are polish, and although that is to be excused under the terms of the Polish Potatoes in England Order of 2004, the Wizarding law of agricultural oversight nullifies this law under the signed name of former Minister Hubbert.”
The ministry man blinked four times, looking gobsmacked.
“Have a wonderful day,” Tom happily waved, reaching out to grab a single unsuspecting potato from his bushel, “here, on me of course.”
The man fumbled with the tuber, clutching it between his hand and clipboard. He stumbled away, nearly walking into a mother and small child.
Tom sighed in delight, knowing he would be seeing more ministry employees very soon.
The vegetable cart became incredibly popular when the following day, three ministry employees showed up. A small crowd gathered, watching in confusion and amusement as Tom singlehandedly fended off four lawsuits with the citation of two archaic laws, one goblin representative, and a small bribe of ripe carrots. There were four bushels of potatoes that day.
“We need to take this further.” Tom sighed dramatically, despite the fact he was fairly amused by the ministries attempt to quell the sudden uprising of vegetable carts that seemed to be popping up all throughout the alley. Tom’s own cart had inspired other people to do similar things, peddlers with paintings and knick knacks, children selling bottles of juice, even a few hags scurried up from Knockturn in search of pretty coins. It was all fun and games until a group of aurors showed up, trying to dispel the crowds of stay at home mothers trying to sell cheap quality scarves despite the fact it was summer.
“I agree,” The master goblin agreed, fingers folding under his chin. He tapped against the meat of his jaw a few times, squinting in thought. “We need to take action that draws in different sectors of the ministry.”
Tom crossed his ankles calmly. “We increase the level of sale, change the concept of what we’re selling. Something legal but testing the borders of the true Ministry regulation.”
The goblin had a smirk on its face, fangs protruding from the corner of its mouth.
“The goblin legislation can offer you a permit of practicing darker inheritance traits,” the goblin grumbled out with something savage gleaming in its eye, “as the heir of House Slytherin, am I correct in the presumption you are parseltongue?”
Tom’s smile was a bit more forced, his fingers tapping on his arm.
“Of course, such talent is confidential and will not be discussed outside of my office.” The goblin swept one arm out to emphasize the office itself. It was much more luxurious, the chair Tom sat on was plush and comfortable. It was well lit, swords decorating the walls and golden artifacts littered display cases.
“If you are asking for my talents to be added to the Goblin registry for operational abilities,” Tom began in a low drawl, a dark challenge in his words, “you would be quite silly to presume I would...accidentally agree in being hired as an underling.”
“Of course not.” The goblin soothed with a fake expression, “an underling is not at all what I wish to suggest. I would hate to impose someone with abilities such as yours.”
Tom smiled, eyes bright and sharp. “Then you comprehend the state we are at currently. You wish to add my abilities to your list through the Goblin loophole in documentation, to suggest that Gringotts has the only parseltongue resource in the entire world. A bold declaration, it would be a... wealthy discovery on your part.”
The goblin’s expression didn’t change, but it was very hesitant.
“I think it would be mutually beneficial,” Tom began in a low voice, “if such title was added to your roster without any linkage to myself. A precaution, you understand.”
“Of course.” The master goblin agreed instantly, “and we will supply the necessary equipment and purchasing of further equipment to address the future complications of the process?”
Tom huffed quietly, rolling his head to snap a tense spot on his neck. “Of course. I’m anticipating attempts to arrest me, after this stage, we will be ready to move further. You have the resources in place?”
“The paperwork has been set for the Walpurgis corporation.” the goblin nodded, “the shell company related has accepted all transactions from the offshoot proceeds reducing all tax necessities.”
“Wonderful, another step to irritate those Ministry oafs.” Tom hummed, “open another shell company. Offshoot from the produce stand. Transfer the funds from the Walpurgis shell company to the produce shell, then back again. Drop a portion of the proceeds and transfer it through other traceable means, then donate it to some notable cause.”
The goblin blinked quickly in confusion but scribbled down the orders with a small noise. “Do you wish for these transactions to be hidden?”
Tom crossed his leg at the angle, calmly swishing his foot back and forth. “Don’t hide them, make them difficult to track down. Misplace the documents in other folders- the same office and regulatory station, but give whoever investigates a headache.”
The goblin should not have looked as viciously delighted as it did.
The next day, the fruit stall had been shifted to something similar to a traveling show. Large cages were filled not with owls, but scaled creatures that were periodically belting fire and other acidic substances. Some were bright red, others were tamer muted yellows. Every single one was shrieking horrible noises and looked ready to murder a cat.
Tom of course, was sitting completely patiently, even going so far to sell two of the furious little creatures to one interested student. He looked barely old enough to be out of Hogwarts. Good, let the old man deal with that paperwork.
Tom waited, completely content. He had to give the ministry some credit, it took until noon before aurors were frantically running to quell the animal trade.
“Sir!” an auror cried, one that Tom didn’t recognize. Wonderful, he was just getting started.
“Good afternoon.” Tom greeted them, smiling widely. The auror was gaping, paling at the sight of the multiple ferocious monstrosities currently attempting to set his robes on fire.
“Sir!” The man bemoaned in horror, “‘you cannot sell a controlled creature! Where did you even get dragons!”
Tom’s smile didn’t falter. “These are not dragons, my good sir.”
The auror looked on in completely bafflement. His shoe caught fire, and he scuffed it out on the cobblestone.
“These are clearly dragons!” The man nearly screamed, causing Tom to smile even further. “I demand you cease this sale at once!”
Tom cocked a hip and leant against the stall. “Are you from the Department of the Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures?”
The man floundered before looking at his chest, where a pin loudly proclaimed him as Auror Jameston.
Tom waited, smile still sharp. Finally, after a small pause the auror realized his mistake and he blurted out an indignant, “no!”
“Wonderful,” Tom breezed by, “then this is out of your jurisdiction and your infringement upon my sales can be taken up with your superior. I am presuming that you do not have a warrent for investigation, which allows me to file a counter lawsuit for knowledgeable interruption of salestime proceedings.”
The man gaped, paling instantly.
“Ah, but of course, where would we be if I don’t listen to your side of the story?”
The man bumbled, “I- I saw dragons and I came over to stop this nonsense!”
“Wonderful,” Tom continued smoothly, “abuse of power for activities outside your jurisdiction. Don’t worry, Auror. I’m in a wonderful mood, I only assume you’ll be suspended for your abuse of power.” Tom’s grin spread as he gave a small wave, “have a wonderful day.”
A different auror returned in a few hours later, this time accompanied by a ministry worker who was looking very overwhelmed and not at all happy with being brought out.
“Oh, wonderful.” Tom hummed, sliding around the stall before taking a proper position, “a pleasure, gentlemen.”
The auror clearly was well informed, because he did not look happy at all. “Sir, I request to see vendors paperwork for legal sale on Diagon Alley.”
Ah, a smart one then.
“Of course.” Tom smoothed over, barely blinking. He offered the required paperwork- a copy of course, since he wouldn’t put it past the ministry to steal official documentation. The auror scanned it over, frowning ever so slightly when everything was accurate. Tom knew it would aggravate the man.
“I’m sorry I do not see the paperwork for the display or possession of a XXXX classified magical creature. As such, we are mandated by law to take you into custody and call proper departments for the detainment of these creatures. You are permitted an attorney-.”
“Unfortunately,” Tom interrupted smoothly, “these are not XXXX classified magical creatures. In fast, these creatures are classified by Mexico and are not yet classified in the UK. By law and regulation, this then falls to the muggle regulation of exotic animals. If you look at the legislation of exotic animal sale and possession, you will note that the Xiuhcoatl is not on the restricted reptilian family Colubridae, which is illegal to own.”
The auror stared, the ministry worker for the control and regulation of magical creatures, stared.
Tom kept smiling.
“I-...” The auror trailed off, staring as a bright red serpentine creature belched out what looked like magma. “...That is a magical creature. It is breathing fire. In what circumstance does this situation have muggle legislative jurisdiction?”
Tom’s nodded as if it was a good question, “well, you see. You passed a legislative rights for Muggleborn involvement around nine years prior. It clearly states in article four, that all laws not stated by Wizarding legislation is immediately under the jurisdiction of Muggle United Kingdom.”
A reptile sneezed, flame shooting out like a poorly aimed fire charm. Tom didn’t look away once.
“I…” the auror balked, looking at the small cart completely baffled and very overwhelmed.
“Do you have any further questions?” Tom asked calmly, “further disrupting my business could result in a lawsuit, you know.”
The two men left very, very quickly.
The next morning three men returned. This time, with fancy paperwork which listed the Xiuhcoatl as a Terribly Inconvenient Animal which Requires Special Paperwork creature. A few stores and other businesses did have the necessary certification, those that sold eagles and poisonous spiders. The aurors looked delighted, finally happy to catch Tom off guard.
“Actually, my good gentlemen.” Tom blinked slowly, “I am operating under Gringotts jurisdiction. As the Gringotts establishment has recently acquired a parselmouth, all serpentine creatures are well within rights of sale and possession, granted that Goblin Nation does not require TIARSP forms. Of course, if you would like to change this law, I can certainly pass along the message and inquire as to a formal meeting for the Interspecies relations and the Minister of Magic.”
All three aurors caught on fire, Tom didn’t stop smiling once.
“We need to take this further.” Tom sighed, swirling fine brandy in a glass as he sat across from the Head of Gringotts. The goblin nodded slowly, tapping its long filed nails against the desk.
“Ah, but of course.” The goblin nodded, blinking slowly and calmly. “What are your future plans, Mr. Riddle?”
Tom Riddle grinned.
He had a swarm now, it was almost a public show at this point. He recognized a nearby baker who leaned out of his store to see how Tom would battle this one today.
Tom didn’t stop smiling, even as the four ministry officials, official from the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Licensure of Magical Organizations and Businesses, and Financial Interspecies Inquiry Agency, approached him.
“Well hello.” Tom barely blinked, petting one of his scaled abominations. “What a wonderful day we’re having.”
The head auror puffed up, pulling out a scroll of parchment. Tom hummed as he took it carefully, leaning against his stall. He was careful not to knock the pot of hydrangeas into the road.
“Mr. Riddle.” The auror announced, going so far to have memorized what the letter entailed. My, he must have been incredibly confident with himself this time. “You are hereby forced to close the Riddle Emporium as the Ministry of Magic formally inducts a search on Tax Audits and investigations on Finances. The Ministry of Magic has formally sent paperwork to the Holding Company that Riddle Emporium is legally filed under, and as such this subsidiary will be receiving notice of paperwork received by your Holding Company.”
Tom hummed contently as he tapped the paperwork calmly. “I see, and this notice is effective when the Parent Company of Riddle Emporium sends me its notice?”
The auror puffed up, “correct. Any moment now, paperwork will be filed and you are on hiatus until a formal investigation may take place.”
Tom smiled. The atmosphere in the alley dropped. “I see, allow me one moment…”
Tom Riddle pulled out his wand, tapped it twice on the stall, and grinned. The small stall shifted subtly, turning white with gentle pastels. The cages turned from gold to silver, and the large sign for Riddle Emporium flickered into Walpurgis Inc.
The Holding Company, which owned the subsidiary, Riddle Emporium.
The aurors blanched, one cursed. Another threw his hat on the ground, stepped on it, and screamed.
Tom crossed his arms politely, “Oh dear, it seems I’ve misplaced your paperwork. You understand how annoying little problems are, hmm?”
“Excuse me, Mr. Riddle. The funds have been received by the Ministries department for Business Startup. Are we continuing to utilize the loophole with no flipping period for declaring bankruptcy and startups?’
“How are the finances looking currently?”
“We are currently averaging at thirteen thousand Galleons, scattered between five shell companies and three subsidiaries. We also are utilizing the UK financial error for the conversion interest gain from Croatian banks to UK accounts. The interest is holding steady at .04% however we are unable to predict when this error will be fixed.”
Tom tapped his fingers along with wand, eyes narrowed as he stared at the golden picture frame behind the goblin’s desk. “I see. How is the investigation on the shell company currently funding a charity?”
“‘Excellent. The Ministry has traced it to the fourth referral point are are certain the finances are being used for nefarious means.”
“I believe,” Tom started with a casual shift in his seat, “to begin stage two.”
Based on legal work established for the Equality of Goblin Rights (1642), all new additions to the Goblin Union Rights immediately require financial compensation from the Ministry. It was a minor sum, something small that generally had no appeal. Joining the Goblin Union increased the population of recorded Goblin members- although it wasn’t strictly mandatory to actually be a Goblin in species. Over time, the Goblin Union (GU for most people) was now nickname for Magical Creature Union and collaboration. This included lawyers for centaurs, healthcare for elves, and other legal functionings that Humans naturally tended to dismiss. An increase in population instantly created an increase in persuasive power, although magical creatures only composed a quarter of a single human’s political power. The Goblin Union’s ability was small, generally only in financial influence due to Gringotts being a foreign entity in charge of the finances (a disaster from the Goblin Wars). Nobody wanted to join the Goblin Union, especially with how Goblins were commonly thought of as less than human.
The Goblin Union granted all members universal health care, specific on species and other disabilities, right to goblin lawyers and other practitioners, as well as permission to use all vaults if proper paperwork was filed. This only came to be in one occasion, where a ghost wanted to keep galleons for interest and eventually use such money for bribery purposes.
The advantage of the GU’s policies, was that they didn’t involve tedious forms and meetings to figure out a basic entitled right. Since a fair proportion of their services were given to creatures who lacked hands or writing capabilities, most paperwork was automatically filed and used when appropriate.
There was one thing that Tom learned in all his years; humans were always inherently lazy.
“We currently have five operatives working at 20% of galleon inheritance pay,” the head goblin explained delighted, laying out all necessary paperwork that Tom may need to glance over, “this rises to three galleons per four members acquired. Recruitment changes this fee to one galleon bonus for every recruit, added and supplied weekly.”
Tom followed the chart, trailing his fingers against the monetary estimate, “and we as an institution obtain nine galleons per individual?”
The head goblin nodded, pulling out a thick book that magically expanded with each signature, “unfortunately, we are not expanding at a quick enough rate given our predictions. Our operatives are not moving quickly enough based on stigmas of society-.”
“Oh, leave that to me.” Tom Riddle smiled.
He was liquid charisma, a single well placed smile and a careful comment left people trailing in his wake. Those bewitched by him, those swooning at his words.
The population the ministry ignored, were the mothers that stayed at home and worked all day. The fathers would function at the ministry, hating their jobs and hating their lives. The mothers would do anything for their children, and they were so so dumb.
By the second day of Tom carefully becoming a door to door salesman for joining the GU, he had nine operatives. By the third day, he had 36 operatives. The scale of finances was increasing with an average of forty new members per operative, resulting in a net gain of nearly three thousand galleons per day.
It increased, more and more.
People were so fickle and pathetic, and the legislature oppressed those who could actually change the world.
Tom Riddle would force the Ministry of Magic to his knees, even if he needed an army of stay at home mothers to do it.
“How are our numbers looking?”
“I...You have increased our growth rate by over twenty two percent-.”
“Ah, do keep it up dear. And while you’re at it, perhaps we should look into the sale of stocks and others, controlling the market of course by using those subsidies to purchase and resell.”
“Are you...are you suggesting the forced inflation of stock prices and financial gain?”
“Isn’t it a pity, that the Ministry of Magic entrusted its entire economy in an oppressed species. I couldn’t imagine this ever backfiring.”
Walpurgis was now a store, a fully funded localized store.
It sat on the brick and mortar location of right next to Gringotts. After a temporary merger and a headache for the Ministry of Magic, Gringotts property increased and expanded to the single store. Not only did it function as a rather pleasant ordinary flower shop, but it also functioned to expand the focus group to curious wizards and witches who had heard the rumors of the Riddle-Stall-Showdown. The store was legendary, and now offered free legal consultation with appointments. And sold wonderful flowers.
The location expanded to such popularity, Tom was contemplating a second location in Knockturn. Just to spite the Ministry.
“We need to take this further.” Tom sighed, drinking lavish wine since he was, after all, the owner and head of a very very successful pyramid scheme based off of free healthcare. He was getting rich from the Ministry’s pocket money, and the idiotic Minister hadn’t even realized it.
His workers, four goblins hired to bounce ideas at him and off him, looked at each other unsure. At this level in the game, Tom simply wanted to induce headaches, and scheme under the obvious distraction.
“...Excuse me, Mr. Riddle.” The one goblin quietly started, looking sheepish but very malicious with the glint in its eyes. “Are you aware that the legal paperwork we have gives us permission to have dragons on the property? Not exclusively underground, but anywhere on the property.”
Tom hummed, swirling his wine as the thought the idea over. “I see. How is the status of...illegal and controlled substances?”
The goblins all looked baffled, glancing at each other at a loss. “I...you are referencing illegal drug use, sir?”
Tom rolled his eyes. “Centaur herbal use. The illegal and ridiculous punishments for magical strains of marijuana which I believe was proven over forty years ago to have health benefits.”
The Goblins nodded slowly, still unsure with the direction of the conversation. “We are familiar with the status, would you prefer we fetch proper documentation of the current law?”
Tom smiled, all teeth. “Do so.”
Walpurgis was famous already, but now they were practically a party.
It was summer before children went back to Hogwarts, the perfect time to bring out a legitimate living dragon to place in a very well warded cage on display, and offer perfectly legal recreational drug use granted that there were no less than six centaurs on the premise and they were partaking in “religious activities.”
In simple forms, children and teenagers were being lured into a fantastic opportunity to become legally intoxicated, and gaze at a large, very content dragon which was chomping down sausages at an astounding rate.
“This is a wonderful idea,” one girl confessed, gazing at the large dragon in awe. Considering how her eyes were now red and she was swaying in bliss, the dragon likely looked more spectacular than ever before.
The centaur nodded gravely, staring at the dragon in respect.
“Isn’t it crazy that we can’t do this normally?” One younger boy complained, clutching the wall desperately as he talked too loudly to his friend, “I mean like, I hate that petty political bullshit, you know?”
Everyone nearby nodded in complete understanding. The dragon happily moved on to smashing a watermelon.
Protests popped up across the country, youths taking to the street to advocate for the beneficial health effects and use of centaur herbal medicines. In one location, an auror post was completely covered in eggs and other sticky substances. In another, the dungbombs were so concentrated they were forced to call in a potions master to try and counteract the effects.
The youth spread like fire, creating clubs and organizations all devoted to various causes that the Walpurgis store carefully suggested. Fliers were set out, corporations were blacklisted and production dropped.
Tom sat back on his throne of corruption and embraced the power of the angry youth.
The GU membership soared, its participation and involvement rate now so impressively high, they were a considerable risk now for the veto and influence of various legal situations.
Tom pulled out the necessary form, grabbed a quill, and very casually became a lobbyist. What a shame there were no licensing or certification requirements, what a world where the political sphere rested so heavily on Pureblood pockets.
“Sir, we have now obtained a twenty three percent influence in all upcoming elections. Due to the GU’s population increase and the Goblin Nation’s predetermined voting law set in order-.”
“I see. I think it’s time to... irritate the Ministry. Let’s diverge their focus. Start the campaign paperwork, diverge past the local governmental rings and straight into National Campaigning utilizing the equality act for interspecies relations. Begin the lawyer’s focus on Money Laundering on all opponents, and lets expose those nasty little loopholes we discovered months ago.”
“Sir? Who is going to be the running face for the campaign? Anyone too recognizable may result in our attempts being shut down before we have gained any footing.”
Tom Riddle smiled, eyes glowing red out of utter spite.
“Bring in the goat.”
“Sir! We’re being sued for the third shell company based out of Germany. So far we have delayed the court date and press release of the information, however the fees now are expanding into exponential levels. I am afraid that if we keep delaying to increase the cost, we will be struggling to keep the story under wraps.”
Tom sighed in disinterest, barely glancing at the worried goblin. “The monetary fund for national judicial endeavors such as this? How far are we into taking the money allocated this year?”
“I, they have devoted twenty three percent of their finances for the remainder of this year into the investigation of the shell company. They haven’t attempted to further any other investigations but I suspect they will not approach other cases to the same severity.”
“Wonderful,” Tom grinned, feeling absolutely delighted. “Use the Crime Act and claim Financial Difficulty. They’re unable to investigate international affairs and since this concerns the Goblin Nation, they are legally unable to investigate further. The Financial Difficulty clause also mandates the Ministry of Magic covers all financial burdens on our side, which reduces their funds for the rest of this year to…?”
The goblin scrambled, fumbling with parchment and squinting through the numbers, “err, forty two percent of finances have been redirected to this case. The Ministry of Magic maintains only thirty nine percent of original funds for judicial intervention.”
Tom grinned, and barely resisted laughing.
The Minister of Magic, now running for reelection, threw his hands in the air and screamed in utter outrage.
“I am not running against a filthy animal!”
His opponent, a wonderful goat bleated into the mic.
Tom hummed from where he stood in the back of the auditorium, snapping his fingers. Instantly his assistant- a human who had experience with political speeches and divertem (not that Tom needed it), grappled with his notebooks and recording devices.
“I believe, that was slander.” Tom nearly sang, watching as the head of his party, Albuk Doredumble addressed once more to the crowd.
Minister-Running-For-Reelection-Against-Barnyard-Animal!
Tom snapped the paper open, gazing over the moving picture. It was easy to see how infuriated Minister Westbolt was. The ink never quite captured that gross flush he had.
“Libel?” a goblin asked nervously.
Tom’s grin was bored, lazy and terrifying like a predator who knew he had accomplished something unbeatable.
“Libel,” Tom spoke, playing with the word in his mouth, “...perhaps. I wonder how long we can... play with this.”
The goblin looked ready to bolt, “p-play, sir?”
Tom hummed, tapping his fingers along his arm in a rhythmic beat. Tom blinked slowly, calmly. “I’ve been getting a fair bit bored, you see.”
One goblin, a rather small office worker by the name Krimjaw, was crying steadily over the mounds of paperwork.
His associates watched him with pity, fumbling with their own mountains of paperwork and other taxing work. Gringotts had never been so active in the affairs of others.
“What are you sobbing about?” Another goblin asked Krimjaw, eying the mound of papers with a small curl of its lip. Krimjaw could barely compose himself.
“He-...” Krimjaw trailed off, voice broken in pitch from stress, “the new client has...he has the most horrid request.”
The other goblin crossed its arm, scowling as if the work environment they lived in couldn’t possibly get any worse.
“He…” Krimjaw trailed off, shakily knocking folders from its small desk, “he has regulated our health facility record system!”
The new goblin blinked slowly, not comprehending the issue. “Krimjaw, our paperwork for patient care and registry is automated per contract.”
“I know!” Krimjaw moaned in agony, “you do not understand! We are adopting the American Health System, I don’t care that we don’t have to fill the forms ourselves.”
The new goblin gaped and inhaled sharply.
“We- we offer complete and complementary health services and funding within union members,” Krimjaw kissed out, its small hands grabbing its coarse boar like hair on his scalp, “but the paperwork. Each facility is now operating independently! There is no centralized documentation database for medical records!”
The new goblin staggered backwards, gripping the desk to stay standing, “but...but surely we are permitted to at least organize the system-.”
Krimjaw hung his head and sobbed, shaking his head morosely.
“No,” the goblin whispered, “ no. I- this is madness. The- how do we obtain documentation information from individual facilities then?”
Krimjaw sniffled and shifted through the papers, dramatically slapping one file on top of the stack, “ more paperwork! More! We have to apply to the administrative staff per facility to request patient information! Do you understand? This is going to take hours to compile the proper networking steps! For us goblins!”
“By gods.” The newcomer whispered absolutely terrified. “We are being run by a monster.”
“What is this?” The good secretary Meryl Gibbons blubbered out, staring in confusion at the paper on her desk. She was a nice lady, she liked having everything in prim proper order. She was a bit sour on the edges, but truly she did enjoy her job.
She was part of the Ministry administration team that composed and stored staff information. With such an open interlaced duality between the auror department and St. Mungos, most medical information was rather standard to know. She knew if Walters over in Muggle Regulation department was hospitalized from migraines, or if Kathrine two floors down that made such wonderful tea still had issues with those pesky gnome rocks in her kidney. Poor lady, really.
All medical documentation came through on a fairly regular schedule, almost bi-annual really with the refreshing of St. Mungos systems. Meryl Gibbons could of course investigate and search through the files for anyone in particular at any time, but she liked to look through all of her papers whenever the systems were refreshed.
Except now, there was something very very wrong.
Half of the names on her list were blocked out by something thick and red. It looked distracting and scolding on her very detailed registry. The name was provided, but all other information was completely removed. Meryl couldn’t even see if the listed medical treatments were long or not!
“What is going on?” She whispered to herself, trailing desperately up and down the sheath of paper to see if there were any rhyme or reason to the obvious error in the St. Mungos database. By Merlin’s beard, even Katherine’s name was blurred out!
“This makes no sense,” she gaped, frantically scribbling down an urgent memo to send off to St. Mungos. Obviously something in their records had broken- a fire perhaps? But then why would the length of the file be censored?
She scribbled her note and sent it off, scrambling over to her station floo lantern, tossing in a small dash of powder before she hurried out, “Small Business Regulation Department! Katherine Merrydew!”
A pause, her little lantern flickers before it spiked. From the other end of the little lantern, a chirpy voice poked through. “Meryl? Meryl dear hello! How are you today!”
Meryl normally would have been in a wonderful mood, but she was far too desperate at this time. “Katherine! Why are your medical records censored!”
A pause, although the flickering floo hadn’t disconnected. From the other side, a partly winded voice inquired uncomfortably winded, “I... pardon?”
“Your records!” Meryl nearly shouted at the small lantern, “Half of the Ministry suddenly is censored! I can’t figure why all the sudden!”
Another pause before Katherine responded. “You...the Ministry had the medical records of its employers?”
Meryl rolled her eyes, “yes yes, it was in the initial contract. Suddenly everything is all covered! I can’t fathom why!”
“Oh,” Katherine’s voice was pinched but chipper, “well, best of luck.”
She hung up on the other end, leaving Meryl gaping over the situation.
Meryl’s memo returned, unfolding into a sheaf of paper much larger than she anticipated. It kept growing and growing, unfolding until it was nearly the size of the Daily Prophet. Meryl gulped, and felt the urge to walk away quickly.
Dear Miss Gibbons,
Your inquiry into the status of the Medical Magical Med Wizard database was denied due to new legislation set in place according to subsection seven of the equal treatment of Magical Creatures clause. All information pertaining to individuals is now restricted to certified officials, and requires proper documentation and paperwork for access. For request of entry, please submit paperwork including a suitable reason, and intentions with such data. This request will then find the required Mediwizard on staff who will further instruct documentation. Notarized paperwork will be necessary for entry into our documentation room to view these reports; no quick-notes quills or cameras allowed. You are not permitted to take documentation out of our room.
For any such purposes if our client or patient has requested medical information to not be shared to the public, all requests will be denied unless cases of: familial relationship, next of Kin, the patient is recently deceased and you are stated within a will, a living will, or other medical professionals with adequate reason for interest.
Adequate reason will be granted on a case by case basis by the Facilitative United Questioning front Utilizing Magical Inquiry, Numbers In Sensitive Terribly Remedying You.
Our board will grant access when appropriate [see form KS44.1], once information is granted patients and clients are instantly notified of information accessed as well as by whom with proper credentials. Breaks in confidentiality, according to the British Adopted Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act [BAHIPAA] will result in legal actions and eventual felony.
If any further questions are necessary please send inquiries to our branch within the Gringotts Foreign Relation Team, and we will respond at the earliest international convenience.
GU.
Meryl inhaled in a pinched wheeze, squinting at the elaborate paperwork that looked more official than most of their own legislature regarding inmates. Merlin’s Beard, when had an international policy come into effect? Without the public, or even her knowing about it?
This should have been on the front page of the Prophet! Now the Ministry wouldn’t know the personal information of their workers! What sort of insane country had started this nonsense? She couldn’t fathom it.
“This- the Minister needs to know this.” She whispered to herself, scrambling over various papers to grab the nearest quill as soon as she could, “This is- this is horrible! We as employers deserve to know the medical history of our workers!”
Meryl paused, squinting at the name of the board. Generally they used acronyms since the long titles were quite a mouthful. What was it again? Facilitative United Questioning front Utilizing-
Meryl's mouth opened into a small rounded 'o'
FUQUMINISTRY
Oh dear
DAILY PROPHET
Ministry-Of-Magic-Stealing-Worker’s-Confidential-Information!
Following the development of the quickly booming GU, members finally had confidentiality laws set into place. The Ministry of Magic let slip this breach of confidential information, and confessed to stealing worker’s personal info, medication list, and other documentation for the last decades-...
Tom sighed, placing his feet up on the banister. Normally he would never lower himself to such a disrespectful sight; up in the box with only goblins and house elves running themselves ragged to please him, he didn’t mind.
“Look at this,” He sniffed, one hand trailing downwards towards the pathetic sight below, “the previous Minister of Magic, against a goat.”
The goblin nearest him shifted uncomfortably, “The goat, sir, is ah, you’re candidate.”
Tom blinked slowly, tilting his head towards the side with a predatory twist. It was something that terrified the goblin on a primal level.
“It is,” Tom settled with a thin lipped smile, “isn’t that a testament to the state of this country? Crippled and on its knees after Grindelwald- on par with a goat.”
The goblin gulped, and Tom sighed at the wine glass in his hand. Without blinking, he dropped it. The crystal shattered like snow, skittering across the floor of the private box.
“Clean that,” Tom snapped, glancing back down at the Town Hall debate below, “Bring me something else.”
“Yes sir,” the goblin scrambled, summoning house elves with a snap, “w-what would be pleasing you today, sir?”
Tom’s eyes didn’t flicker from the steadily sweating form of the former minister. “Something sweet.”
The man below him was slowly starting to panic. There were not one, but a few hundred signs actually all cheering for the goat. Very few were cheering for the actual candidate of the other party.
“Heh,” Tom dryly chuckled, folding his fingers as he waited for whatever the goblin brought him, “grass root party. Absolute rubbish all of this.”
“Yes sir, it is” The goblin agreed, handing over the new crystal glass with something light lavender in it. Tom didn’t know what drink he was given, but it was sweet and smelled like honey. It was delicious.
“I- I cannot-” The man on stage fumbled, “I refuse to accept my opponent has the proper qualifications for office!”
The moderator looked down at his notes, “well, sire. We actual have identification that your opponent Albuk is indeed a pureblood highland goat.”
“He doesn’t speak English!”
“....Sir, I am terribly sorry but considering the various species in attendance, that was an incredibly ableist thing to say.”
“O-Of course I didn’t mean it like that! I just inquire if the abilities of my opponent are those that our country needs!”
“Sire, considering you have been filed for slander and unequal treatment not only by the grassroots party and Albuk, but also a portion of the Creature Community, how do you think you have the proper qualifications?”
“I- I have been running this country for years!”
“Former Minister, why have you not issued an apology yet for the unfair breach of confidential and personal information the ministry has been conducting under your terms in office?”
Albuk lent forward, blinked twice and offered a bland, “Ba-aaa.”
The crowd roared.
“Sir!” A goblin rushed into Tom’s room, disturbing him from the classical book one had provided him a week earlier. It was something interesting, boring, but different enough from his usual tastes.
Tom looked up, the goblin freezing instantly under his gaze.
“What?” Tom sighed, crossing his legs slowly, so slowly. “I was occupied.”
The goblin twitched under the unfaltering gaze. “He- I...I-”
“ Well?” Tom asked, mouth twisting into something amused but sharp. “ Speak.”
The Goblin nodded jerkily, “the- our candidate is being filed for adultery!”
Tom’s face smoothed into a blank expression. “Are you aware, that our candidate is a goat.”
The goblin flushed and nodded, “I- yes sire. Accusations are running rampant of adultery from our candidate, the masses are demanding he withdraw.”
Tom lifted one hand to run his temple. He inhaled and exhaled with a sharp whistle. “The...public is... demanding... we withdraw...because a goat has cheated on his wife.”
The goblin looked ready to drop dead. “Or husband, sire.” He weakly offered.
Tom didn’t blink, although clearly the situation had gotten to him. “Right. Or husband. How obtuse of me.”
Former Minister Westbolt Withdrawing on Accusations of Sexual Misconduct!
After Former Minister Westbolt’s accusations against candidate Doredumble, evidence was suggested from an array of sources over sexual misconduct spanning decades into the past! Former Minister Westbolt not only interacted with six separate individuals, but also sired two illegitimate sons with different mistresses. One report of unwanted sexual advances has been reported from sponsor Darcy Jenwar, as her client, Miss Grrrlgr is a selkie and is unable to talk or communicate out of the water due to her overly large canine teeth and snout. These accusations are being-
Tom huffed and slammed the paper on the table. His eyes gleamed, his lower lip stained red from wine or something else.
“ See?” Tom Riddle hissed out, somewhere between savage delight and sadism, “ this is how you ruin someone. You wanted to play with me, Westbolt? Well, don’t let that stop me.”
One goblin slid out of the room, looking ready to retire that day. “This is absolutely terrifying.”
“True,” his partner sighed, “at this rate, we’ll have completely override the British Ministry of Magic. I can’t believe we made it this far.”
“I can’t believe we’re sponsoring a goat.”
“I…” Orion Black gasped, watching in horror as he stood in front of the Ministry of Magic. The live results were there, both attendants standing ready under the light and camera flashes. The goat, Albuk Doredumble, was looking glossy and well brushed. He was currently enjoying a small bowl of kale. His opponent, a last minute selected man who retired from the Wizengamot the year earlier, was sweating under all of the tension.
The man was going to win, the public wasn’t so ridiculously stupid to ever elect a wild dirty animal in office. It was a marvel the dumb creature hadn’t been killed yet by one of those feral werewolves that its party apparently represented also.
“I know,” Abraxas Malfoy muttered back, sniffing slightly at the proceedings with a sneer. “We’re surrounded by mudbloods. They couldn’t find a single decent candidate so they selected an animal.”
Orion shifted uncomfortably, “have you been reading the papers? They’ve been saying terrible things-.”
“The Ministry’s observant eye over its workers has been an unspoken rule.” Abraxas hissed back in frustration. “How else were we to determine who should be granted more restrictions or more power? Surely not those who are ill.”
Orion grimaced, “your selection for the Wizengamot still up?”
Abraxas sniffed, “of course it is. The selection process is in three weeks, after I enter I’ll shift the majority to remove this disgrace from ever continuing again.”
Orion looked unsure. “That would need more than just a majority vote. That would need all of the vote. The public vote and representatives could easily mess with you; don’t they need just over seventy percent to turn down Wizengamot proposals?”
Abraxas laughed curtly. “As if the thoughts and minds of millions are wise enough to oppose. This rubbish will be dealt with by next month, have my words.”
“And the winner is….Candidate Albuk DoreDumble has obtained a majority vote! Minister Doredumble!”
Orion inhaled sharply, and Abraxus shrieked.
“Sir! Minister Doredumble is being accused of treason!”
“ What did he do.”
“He- He kept eating important documentation and according to confidential claims, that counts as treasonous activities-.”
Tom inhaled, then exhaled very slowly. “I understand. In the instance a Minister steps down, who acquires the placement?”
The goblin paused and fluttered, “We- we have done what you have requested, sire. It was very difficult, persuading the population to vote for something blind so easily but it was with the combined efforts of the GU we-.”
“Did you accomplish it or not?”
The goblin nodded frantically, “yes sire! The legislation was shifted accordingly and due to the nature of the clause we were able to keep it out of the public eye.”
Tom’s teeth gnashed together, “then get out of my office.”
The goblin bolted.
“When did we get a Deputy Prime Minister!” Meryl screamed, looking at the forms scattered all throughout her office- one of which a large portion was torn away. She was beginning to suspect the Minister of Magic was eating her documents.
“Well, Meryl.” Katherine smiled thinly, her eyes sharp and furious. “Maybe if you had told us something, I would have thought to tell you about him.”
Meryl gaped in complete shock, fumbling over words that she couldn’t think. Katherine nodded, nearly skipping out of her office. Meryl looked down at her mess, unable to think with the flurry of activity. “A Deputy Prime Minister? We aren’t Canada?’
“What a shame, truly.” Tom sighed, clicking his tongue, “over Minister Doredumble’s unexpected resignation. Surely you must understand, his health is of the highest priority.”
“Y-yes sir.” The woman next to him stumbled, her shorter legs barely able to keep up, “I ah, I wasn’t even aware of this position before your notification letter came in-.”
“Was there an issue, at all?” Tom asked, eyebrows arched in concern, “I truly hate to be a hassle with all of these... unfortunate incidents, as of late.”
“Oh no!” The woman clarified, “I’m truly happy to have such an esteemed member of the GU here! They’ve been doing the most horrid things here- spying on us.” She hissed under her breath, flushing in embarrassment.
Tom clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Truly a tragedy. I presume the Wizengamot has been operating under our noses the entire time to keep us in such... compliance.”
“Horrible thing.” The undersecretary sniffed in shame, “to think we trusted them!”
“Ah, well... “ Tom hummed, taking his seat now, folding his fingers carefully, “I intend to take action on revoking the powers provided. Of course, they are esteemed members of our community so perhaps we should... lower their status to fill the pre existing slot of the Creature representatives.”
The undersecretary eyes widened in starstruck, “that would stable the structure! Oh we were all so worried here about the sudden hollow in our reform! Of course sir! Shall I begin drafting you the proposal?”
Tom waved one hand carefully, smiling just enough the woman flushed again. “I wouldn’t want to burden you. Why would we offer it as a proposal if it would simply hassle those of us in the Ministry already busied with this unstable footing? I would recommend offering it as a... ballot.”
The woman tilted her head, “a ballot? You want to offer this restriction as a public vote?”
“Why not?” Tom smiled, teeth sharp. “The Goblin Union represents its members, after all. It would only be fair to offer it to the public to vote for.”
The woman nodded eagerly, “of course sir! And ah, thank you for taking control of our situation, Minister of Magic.”
Tom smiled and leant back in his chair, eyes nearly glowing in the lavish office. “Oh, no thanks needed. Truly. It was nothing.”