Sorry about the delay, I got a little stuck with the plot. I apologise for the poor writing skills too. Anyone wants to improve the grammar etc let me know.
IntroductionHe'd escaped unnoticed when the Deatheater's fell and the doors to Azkaban were opened at last. It wasn't the Deatheater's who had put him there though, so unnoticed in the screaming masses, he had flown away. Eventually, he'd turned back into the shape of a man, but his memories were gone, left behind in the forest. He'd stolen and worked his way forward, gaining a new name and a new identity, always on the move, always with an eye behind him for danger, for the hunters. Gradually he'd forgotten, had settled into his new life and stopped running.
He had friends now, some of them magical; none mentioned the war to him. They were familiar with the glint in his eye, a telling sign of a survivor of recent events. They assumed he was muggleborn and he didn't correct them, wouldn't even admit to the amnesia. Still there was something missing, they were good friends, especially Neville, but however much he tried he could never truly be one of them.
Section 10"Sorry I'm late, Gringott's decided to ruin my day," sighed Neville to his friend sliding into a vacant bar stool.
"Gringott's?" questioned Jack, the name sounded familiar to him.
"My employers," Neville sighed "I should have listened to my Nan 'Never work for Goblins', she said, and she was right. I'll never understand them. Sour hateful lot most of them and they hate wizards, you know? Except Bill of course, him they like."
"Goblins?" Jack smiled fondly, "What exactly is the problem?"
"There's a pay review tomorrow, they want me to report on myself and tell them how much money I should be getting. Bill said if I pitch too high, I'll get nothing for my greed and too low and they will assume I'm admitting incompetence!"
Jack laughed, a rare event, but for some reason he felt fond of Neville's unknown employers. "Let me help."
"You? Well why not, you can't do a worse job than I have so far" Neville nearly pulled his hair in frustration "You know the worst thing? My next assignment will depend almost entirely on what I say tomorrow.
The next dayNeville was sweating, he'd faced down Voldemort, but standing in front of the rview board felt worse by far. The goblins had no love of wizards nowadays. They had full rights now, including the right to bear wands, all given by the ministry to stop an all out war after Voldemort's defeat. Every wizard knew that the ministry had kidnapped the Goblin King during the war, prior to its take over by Voldemort. After Voldemort's defeat, the goblins had been appeased as much as possible to avoid another war, the wizarding world simply could not afford another fight, were still burying the bodies from the last one.
The goblins however, didn't care. They had agreed to a truce with the wizards only until the king was found, one way or another. Though there were few left who held out any hope of his being alive. The labyrinth and its people were now simply waiting. There was no agreement over any future actions and no successor in sight. In truth there was none left who could remember how to go about choosing a king that the goblins, the rest of the population and the Labyrinth itself would agree to obey.
Goblins had 'interrogated' any prisoners with even a slight connection to the kidnap with the ministries permission, but they found nothing but false hope. Azkaban was the reward for any of those involved with the abduction, one of the conditions demanded by the goblins to avoid war and a public apology was given for the ministries behaviour. Tensions were still very strained however, with only the Gringott goblins agreed to the peace. Vigilante's warriors were still roaming Britain, attacking and killing anyone who they ran into. They didn't care who they captured; they were interrogated and then generally killed regardless. The aurors did their best to stop them, an impossible task against so many with so few aurors.
Neville was in truth very rare in even getting a post at Gringotts, he suspected Bill Weasley had pulled some strings for him; even so, few of the goblins would pass the time of day with him. It was a depressing way to work and if the goblins had not seemed so deep in mourning then perhaps he would have left already.
Jack had ended up writing almost all of his presentation and Neville was still not sure it would work. It seemed a strange way to go about it. Jack had shown such confidence though, for the first time they met he seemed certain about something. Though how his secretive friend could assert that the goblins had a sense of humour and that this was the way to win his pay rise was a mystery to him.
It took 3 hours before he was allowed to leave the meeting room, or rather 'interrogation room'. Jack had been right, every question they had asked him, and Jack had anticipated and forced Neville to learn the answer. How he had known that they would ask about where he bought his shoes and how much he paid for them, he would never know. His own presentation to the council had gone well too. One of his statements even had one or two of them smiling in spite of themselves. He would really owe Jack for this one; He'd played them like a fiddle without even being here.
"Mr Longbottom?" Gripfoot ran down the hall to catch up, one of the few goblins that would be seen talking to him.
"Yes?" Neville replied
"How did you do that?" Gripfoot asked curiously "I've never seen a human defend against the committee like that. I've seen goblins fall to pieces." He added admiringly.
Neville grinned, looked around then lowered his voice "I had help from a friend" he said mysteriously.
"Bill Weasley?" questioned Gripfoot
"He did help yes, but it was another friend that did most of the work. He was brilliant, though I took out an absolutely awful joke he thought I should end with. What the hell is an oubliette anyway?
Gripfoot blinked "What was the joke?"
It took nearly five minutes before Gripfoot could talk for laughing, as Neville looked on in wonder. Maybe he should have kept the joke. He'd never seen a goblin laugh like this before; since he'd started work here they had always been grim and hateful. Though Bill had told him it hadn't always been the case he hadn't believed him.
Neville walled into the manager's office and blinked bemused. He'd never been here before; he would definitely have noticed a picture of his friend.
"Why do you have a picture of Jack on your wall?" Neville asked
"What?" said Gimley. He followed Neville's gaze to the portrait of Jareth on the main wall.
"You knew him?" he asked with carefully. "Wait here."
Neville somehow ended up stood in front of most of the goblin council, nervously he shifted from foot to foot as they interrogated him. They suddenly seemed much friendlier and yet more intent than he had ever seen them.
"Why do you keep saying, 'knew him'?" he finally asked confused. "I saw him just last week."
The council stared back at him in confusion; until a timid goblin in the back asked carefully "He's alive?"
Neville was confused at the intent looks everyone was giving him "Well yes" he coughed and then admitted "He helped me with that presentation I did" To his utter bemusement the goblins started laughing, almost in hysteria.
"No wonder you did such a good job" chuckled Gimley. Within moments the chuckling broke off. Neville was interrogated; the council intent on examining every part of his relationship with Jack or rather Jareth. Then the goblins began arguing. Why was he hiding from them? In the end it didn't matter. They would find him and deal with everything else afterwards.
Saturday morningJareth was lazing in bed when the bell rang. He ignored it. Then someone started hammering on the door, he tried to ignore that too. However he was forced to get up when he heard splintering.
"WHAT?" he roared. Standing on the doorstep in nothing but his underwear. He looked at the delegation in front of him, goblins his mind provided.
They looked at him in stunned silence.
"Sire?" one questioned, then they all fell to their knees. He watched them in bemusement. He could tell it was going to be one of those days.
Section 11They refused to leave. If he kicked them out of the house they just sat on the porch outside. It was embarrassing. More of them had arrived too. The neighbours started to talk, so he allowed them in the house again. It had nothing to do with the fact that it was cold and raining out there. No matter what he tried he couldn't convince the goblins that he wasn't this Jareth person. In the end he got rid of most of them over night, but a core group of 'bodyguards' remained with him.
They quickly reached an impasse, Jareth was not willing to believe and go with them to a goblin stronghold and they in turn refused to leave him. In the end, he just kind of stepped around them. He enjoyed the company really, he'd been alone for so long and something deep inside that he didn't want to look at, trusted them.
He lounged on the chair enjoying his coffee. They refused to let him do anything at all in the kitchen, a goblin chef had arrived, strangely enough he had quickly got used to this, even though it had been him alone for as far back as he could remember. He still occasionally remembered to point out that they had the wrong person, but things quickly got into a routine. They would leap out at him from doorways with some supposed memories of his and he would sneer at them.
They managed in the end nearly two weeks of deadlock, he almost got used to the constant stream of goblins that came to stare at him in adoration. The end came one morning when the electricity bill came. Stamped in red. Jareth sighed and got out the morning paper to look for a job. The next day the bills were paid in full and there was a sack of gold on the breakfast table. He poked it in amazement; he didn't think he had ever seen so much money in one place before. Surely they knew he wouldn't accept this? They didn't apparently and refused in turn to accept any suggestion that he would work for a living. The idea left several of them in tears.
Sheer boredom won it for them in the end. Jareth couldn't go out in public with goblins following him everywhere and was beginning to feel closed in. So he agreed to a tour around Gringott's. Neville had promised to go with him.
They offered him a room when he grew tired, as he often was these days. He wasn't sure why he accepted, but he felt at home here. The goblins held no terror for him. They led him to a magnificent room, truly fit for a king. He'd miss them when they realised their mistake and found the real Jareth. He knew they had grieved for this mysterious king, had almost gone to war over his death, so he wasn't sure what would happen when they finally believed that he was Jack and not some mysterious Jareth. Though the resemblance was uncanny, even he would admit.
In the end he slept very well in the strange room. Awaking to discover they had stolen his clothes while he slept. It concerned him that he hadn't noticed; he was normally an extremely light sleeper, when he slept at all. Looking out the window he saw Diagon alley bustling with morning traffic, many of the people headed towards Gringott's. Eventually he dressed in the clothing provided and headed out the door, in no particular hurry. Two goblin guards were stood outside the doors and he wondered if they were to keep people out, or him in.
Breakfast was even more lavish than what they forced down him at home. In spite of the fact that he kept telling them that all he could stomach was fruit in the mornings.
They seemed to be waiting for something, though he couldn't figure out what.
"Well thank you for the tour" he said awkwardly. "I should head off, I wanted to stop by Diagon ally for a few things while I was here."
"You're leaving Sire?" his head of security questioned in dismay "You don't remember still?"
They wanted to take him to the underground. Jareth really wasn't sure he wanted to go to another reality, or dimension or whatever. He wasn't sure they would let him come back.
Neville, however, was greatly enjoying his newfound fame. Since the goblins had found their king, or rather, since they had started tormenting Jack, it was like he was working in a different place. The goblins smiled and laughed and if anything seemed in awe of Neville, now he had been ousted as a friend of the goblin king. Getting to watch his hard-to-impress friend, get flustered by the hordes of goblins adoring him, was fun too. Though he was finding it hard to adjust to the fact that ultimately he was working for Jack, or rather Jareth, his contract stated that for the term of his contract with the goblins, he was in fact a subject of the goblin realm.