"I'd put them in all relevant legislative bodies and give them the same rights, privileges, and obligations as everyone else," Hermione said determinedly. "It'd have them buy into the wider society and make them feel like a welcome and accepted addition."
"Youthful idealism," Lichfield said with a grin that said everything she wanted was never going to happen. "Goblins have wanted that for almost a thousand years, even fighting to get those rights you so casually give away. It still hasn't happened," he said dryly.
"But just for the sake of argument," he continued as a way to head off her incoming objection, "even if you got the Ministry to offer all that: wand use, access to Hogsmeade, Diagon Alley, representation in the Wizengamot and the Committee for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, even a shot at being Minister of Magic - the centaurs still don't want it; they want to be left alone. What then?"
"That sounds like an outright rejection of the basic social contract," Hermione said.
"I don't know what you mean," he replied, "but it sounds about right. So what do you do?"
Harry glanced over at Hermione; she really seemed at a loss.
"What would you do?" she asked, turning it around on him.
"Me? I'd put the needs of the centaurs above the willy-nilly wants of the mug-non-magical population," Lichfield replied. "They have the vast majority of the country just given over to their use, which squeezes us into an ever-more tiny area. I'd negotiate with the centaurs to come up with a set territory that could be their sovereign domain and then rig it up with charms to repel non-magical people, provided they stay in those areas. It recognizes the separation they want and deals with the Ministry having to constantly cover up for them."
Like all solutions too good to be true, Harry knew where this was going.
"So tell us why this won't work either," he said to the bailiff.
"Because they're Beasts, not Beings," Lichfield said with a grin. "And you can only negotiate with Beings. Even with a solution giving them everything they want, who knows if you could ever get them to take it, because taking it means getting them to agree they're on the same level as vampires, hags, and humans."
"So you're saying there's no solution," Hermione said.
"I'm saying the solution is to recognize the differences and to accept people on their own terms," Lichfield reiterated. "If we can recognize their right to be left alone and have nothing to do with us then they should be willing to accept us and our terms, even if they fundamentally reject what it implies about how we see them, because their classification with us ultimately makes no difference to their day-to-day life if all we're going to be doing afterwards is ignoring each other. Merlin knows if you can ever get them to see it though."
As Hermione looked to be trying to incorporate this crash course in wizarding world diplomacy the door opened and Barchoke strode in, carrying even more files than he had before. Lichfield made to say something but it was Hermione that spoke first.
"Would someone really have killed my dad for what he said?" she asked stiffly.
"Yes," Barchoke replied tersely. "I considered it as well, but then I'd have these two pissed off at me-," he gestured to Harry and Lichfield as he made his way to the last seat at the table. "And I didn't want to be dragged into a fracas with the Ministry for doing what's been done before."
"How many times did you walk up and down the back hallway before you calmed down?" Lichfield asked.
"Who said I'm calm?" the Overseer replied, drawing a nervous look from Hermione.
"No salsa dancers today?" Harry asked, hoping to lessen the tension.
"No need; this room's warded," Barchoke replied, pointing up to a line of strange symbols and odd squiggles running the around entire room just below the ceiling. "Everything above ground is considered each individual's personal responsibility."
"It's one of the benefits of meeting in an old torture chamber," Lichfield said, drawing an even more pronounced look from Hermione. "They only torture each other now," he said placatingly.
"Are those the same symbols used in enchanting?" Harry asked, trying to deflect things away from the grizzly subject matter.
"No," Lichfield said appraisingly. "Those look like an older goblin rune form, don't know what they do, but I could guess."
"Keep sound in," Barchoke said as he pointed to the far side of the decorative line. "Deter intruders, prevent death by blood loss, enhance pain - or truth," he added with a nebulous wiggle of his hand. "That one's kind of fuzzy; truth hurts. Just the basics over and over again really."
Barchoke took a moment to arrange his stack of files on the table just so.
"So, how far have you gotten?" he asked.
"Nowhere," Lichfield replied, "We were talking about centaurs until you came in."
Barchoke looked at him like he had lost his mind.
"I told you," the old bailiff said, raising his hands in surrender. "It's the boy's fault. Charlus did the same thing; it was amazing we ever got anything done."
"Do you have Dobby?" Harry asked, wanting to get this issue out there first before they get drowned by everything else.
"He's downstairs asleep," Barchoke said as he picked out a file and looked through it. "Passed out almost as soon as the papers were signed. He looked like his family has been overworking him."
"That's horrible," Hermione said.
"That's actually a good thing," Lichfield said, drawing a confused look from Hermione. "They probably did it to squeeze every drop of work they could from the little guy before he left, and that's horrible-"
"-So is what he's wearing," Barchoke interjected.
"But the extra work should keep him feeling well through the transition to his new family," Lichfield continued. "With you being at the Weasleys," he said to Harry, "you won't have to worry about giving him something to do, so I'd just let him rest until he feels up to it."
"Wait, I don't understand," Hermione interrupted. "How can you say overworking a child is a good thing? It's abuse."
Lichfield's eyebrows shot towards the ceiling and he gave Harry a curious look.
"You didn't tell your little cuddle-bunny about Dobby?" he asked, causing Harry's face to feel like it was on fire.
"I didn't want Dobby to get into trouble," Harry finally managed to croak, determinedly not looking anywhere near Hermione. "Just knowing his name and what his family was like was enough for you to find him, so I kept as much secret as I could in case our letters were intercepted again."
.....
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