0o0o0o0
The clink of the golden coins as Harry pulled the small pot towards him was actually quite satisfying. He grinned in Ray's direction and unwrapped one of the coins, popping the chocolate into his mouth. He'd remembered the Muggle sweet when Trinket had complained that betting for small round coloured food items just wasn't the same as betting with gold. Harry had sent Dobby off to discretely locate a shop that sold them, and the team now had a standing order of gambling currency. They didn't bet for actual money – Harry had been on a site in his apprentice days where betting with real money had meant some members of the team forfeited their share in the profits at the end of the excavation. He didn't think that would happen here, but he'd put the restriction in place long before they got serious about their weekly poker nights.
"I can't believe there is only a month and a half to go," Ben sighed, "And we're leaving next week. I had hoped to spend more time studying that cluster of plants to the south of the plunge pool."
"The one that the Fire Wyrms were… fertilising?" Harry asked as he dealt the cards around, "I thought that you had samples of them?"
"I can't risk importing live cuttings to Canada until I finish the study. The plants are a little more… mobile than I'd like and the risk of cross pollination, not to mention them breeding like weeds in Canadian soil is too great," Ben replied and anted up.
"You don't want mobile plants like that running around Canada," Ray agreed, "Some of the Northern Territories are really delicately balanced. The introduction of completely new and aggressive plants could be an ecological disaster."
"Are we playing poker or talking?" Trinket grumbled and discarded a couple of cards. Harry grinned at the Goblin and Francesca rolled her eyes. Trinket didn't approve of conversation while they played poker, though the rest of the team couldn't seem to manage without it. Harry thought that it was the trivial nature of the conversations that annoyed the Goblin more than the fact that they were talking, but this was a social game, and not everything could be about work; it wasn't healthy.
"We can't do both?" Francesca teased, also discarding, "Could one of us go and take measurements or something for you Ben? If you told us what you wanted we could manage it."
"I've got all the data I need," Ben confessed, "I just…"
"Am completely and unnaturally fascinated," Harding butted in, "By plants that thrive in dragon sh… ow! Don't kick me woman!"
"Don't swear then," Elaine said placidly, "I'll take two cards, Harry."
"Two for the lady," Harry dealt again and sat back, sipping on the ever present ginger ale with a sigh. He was once again headed into backache territory, and every time that he got to this stage of his pregnancy, he wondered why the hell he did it. Of course, that only lasted until his son beamed up at him while clutching his knee or his daughter pounced on his foot with a shrill giggle.
"Are we going to try opening that hidden chamber again tomorrow?" Harding asked as people settled into the betting. Trinket had tried opening the chamber last week, and had only been released from the hospital tent in time for this evening's game. The wards had been far too strong for him, and it was speculated that only Harry would be strong enough to remove the wards without assistance.
"No," Harry replied, calling the last bet, "I don't want Trinket risking himself like that again, and after the violent reaction the wards had to our meddling, I'm not willing to take the risk at this time either. My pregnancy is almost entirely maintained by magic, and to start draining it now…"
"Good point," Ray interrupted his face pale. Harry knew that his team wouldn't think less of him for putting his baby before the warded chamber, and smiled at his assistant gently.
"I'll help Trinket with it after the delivery," he informed the table, "And I want you all to continue to avoid that corridor for a while. Its possible the wards will be on a heightened footing for a bit, and I don't want anyone accidentally maimed or killed."
"Intentional maiming and killing is ok though," Harding snarked before laying out his cards on the table with a small smirk, "Full house."
"Straight flush aces high," Armando spoke up for the first time, and everyone groaned. The team Healer leaned over and pulled the pot towards him with a light chuckle.
"Vecchio, you're so quiet I forgot you were there," Trinket complained, and Harry grinned as Armando shared some of his spoils with his wife, ignoring the Goblin's poor humour with the ease of long practice. Trinket was a terrible patient, worse even than Harry, and Armando had his hands full for the week that Trinket had been an unhappy guest in his hospital tent.
"Another hand?" Elaine asked, and Ben shook his head, pulling a regretful face.
"I've got to get some sleep now, while the baby is quiet. Why didn't you warn me that it would have a thousand elbows and knees?" he mock whined to the two women at the table, and Harry snickered. He thought that Ben would have remembered his complaints on that front at the very least.
"A lady never reveals her secrets," Francesca said primly, and Elaine laughed at the disgust on Ben's face. Harry straightened his own expression to one of long suffering sympathy when Ben looked his way and seemed to gain some brownie points for the effort.
Ray got up and then helped Ben up, one hand rubbing his lovers lower back gently to relieve the ache there. Harry looked away, trying not to show the longing he felt for a particular person to be there with him, to share his joys and soothe his little aches. Sometimes this longing blindsided him, and he had to fight himself hard not to resent that Ben got to have the person he loved with him for all of this. Ben and Ray were perfectly suited to each other; a pair of complementary opposites in temperament and habits, and their happiness didn't deserve to be tarnished by his occasional fits of lonely jealousy.
"Potter," Trinket said it quietly, and Harry smiled at the Goblin, recalling his attention to his team, who were standing up and saying goodnight. He packed away the cards with a flick of his wand and sent the chocolate he'd won to the tent for Davy and May to share in small lots for the next week. Healthy diets were all well and good, but Harry had grown up with no sweets at all until he went to Hogwarts and he wasn't going to let his children experience the same thing.
"Can I speak with you Potter?" Trinket asked and Harry nodded, heaving himself up with a sigh and following the Goblin to his tent. Trinket rarely invited Harry in, though the rest of the team came and went with some regularity. It had to do with the lines of privacy drawn by the life debt, and Harry respected that. Trinket needed a space that was inviolate from his master, and if Harry had been overbearing and troublesome, then that space would have been a much needed refuge and haven.
Trinket had decorated with the typical heavy and rich fabrics of his people, coarse threads picking out surprisingly delicate embroidery, dark finely crafted stone forming the base of the few items of furniture. The colours were sombre with the occasional startling splash of vivid brightness. Harry sat in the stone chair that was reserved for his special use, that Trinket himself had wrought from stone for him, smiling as he had the very first time he'd seen the chair and its beautiful lines. He'd thanked his fellow curse breaker at the time, much to Trinket's surprise. Apparently Trinket's ability as a stone wright was considered to be on the low end of the spectrum by his family, a piece of information that had been relayed with such bitterness that Harry had been unable to restrain his retort about how well Trinket's Clan had judged him in the first place. Looking back, Harry felt that stinging remark had brought the first thaw in their relationship, leading to their eventual friendship; a friendship that had taken three years of solid effort on both their parts and was all the more precious for that effort.
"You are not with us tonight, Potter," Trinket muttered and Harry shook himself from his thoughts.
"Sorry, Trinket," he sighed, "It happens now and then… especially today."
"Ah, your anniversary," Trinket's eyes darkened, and Harry nodded, seeing the Ministry officials enter his hospital room once more, their grim faces and shamed hunches telling him that he was about to hear something he really didn't want to know. He'd forced himself to his feet, instincts honed on the battlefield telling him that this wasn't something he wanted to hear lying down.
"I want to talk to you about Argent," Trinket didn't probe for more information, a mercy that Harry cherished. He hadn't talked about it with his team, though he assumed that they had read the public accounts of the events leading up to his exile.
"I'm listening," Harry encouraged the Goblin curiously. Trinket bared his teeth in exasperation, and drummed his fingers on the arm of his own chair, set opposite Harry's.
"Her Clan have contacted me. It is possible for me to … renounce the repudiation of her at this time. This will be my only opportunity to save my marriage. If I confirm the repudiation then she will be forever parted from me, and…"
"You don't want to be alone," Harry recognised the heart of the matter, though he knew his friend would never couch it so emotionally. Trinket bared his teeth again but nodded, not meeting Harry's eyes. Evidently, Trinket had been closer to his wife than Harry had thought.
"Then call her back," Harry smiled, "Trinket, I had hoped that you would already know I would not deny you this."
"It's not that," Trinket shook his head, "I wish to place some conditions on her return, and those will need your approval."
"What are they?" Harry wondered aloud, his mind whirling with possibilities. Any restriction he enforced on Argent would only increase her resentment of him, and anything that made it harder to win her over wasn't something he could take lightly.
"There are two conditions," Trinket sighed, "Firstly, that she be accompanied by a member of her family and their spouse. The one I have in mind is a stone smith, an occupation that is unusual for her family and has caused him no little censure. We became acquainted at the wedding, and he is a good man. He can practice his craft anywhere and…"
"You want him to have a chance to practice his craft without his family interfering," Harry realised, honoured by the trust that Trinket was showing him. To introduce more Goblins to the camp wouldn't be a problem, though Harry did wonder if they would be able to accommodate two people who would be entirely unrelated to the team's endeavours. Ben and Armando were involved through their spouses, and the Kowalski's were involved through the children. The stone smith would have no ties other than his sister's husband, a tenuous link at best.
"Yes," Trinket sighed, "He and his wife would set up their work in the back of the camp and it would be through that work that they would support themselves. Gringott's would have no role in their work, unless they were contracted to work for the team in some capacity."
"Hmm," Harry leaned back, one hand stroking the arm of his chair absently, the other rubbing the restless baby that was poking him in the side. It was a risk, but if it was made clear that the smith was entirely responsible for his own income then Harry could see no reason to deny the request.
"You'd state that the reason for his attendance would be to… curb Argent's tongue?" Harry mused aloud and Trinket nodded, "And we'd have to couch it so that it seemed like we were offering them a chance to redeem their daughter… Well, as long as it is made clear that the stone smith and his spouse are responsible for their own living, I can see no reason not to include them in your conditions. What were the second set of conditions you wanted?"
Trinket shifted in his chair again, swallowing harshly. Harry waited patiently, knowing better by now than to push the Goblin for more until he was ready. They were very alike in some ways. He had a feeling that it was the second set of conditions that were likely to be the more startling, a feeling that was confirmed when Trinket next spoke.
"I want to have children," Trinket announced flatly, "I… see yours, and… they even call me uncle… It has made me aware… I want my own."
"You… did she refuse to have children before?" Harry was uneasy intruding this far into Trinket's marriage, but he couldn't condone forcing a woman to bear children she didn't want.
"No…" Trinket blew out a gusty sigh, "It was a bone of contention between us, but not for the reason you may think. I am not… you must give permission for me to become a father… the presence of my own child could …."
"Interfere with your ability or willingness to comply with the life debt," Harry realised, "Sweet Circe, Trinket. Of course you can have children, as many as you wish. If I could erase the debt between us, I would, you know that."
"To do so would be to dishonour me," Trinket squared his shoulders, a gesture that was oddly vulnerable, "Although my Clan considers me little better than a slave, I have not thought of myself that way for years. You have never once treated me as less than the others on the team. Your honour knows no bounds, and nor does my esteem."
"Thank you," Harry bowed his head, and took a shaky breath, relieved to hear that he had managed to give Trinket all the respect and esteem that the other was due.
"I will draft a letter to Argent's Clan, and a second to her brother Gripclaw. You will need to peruse them before I send them," Trinket stood and Harry smiled, also standing. Trinket stepped forward and took both of Harry's hands in his, bowing over them in solemn respect, and squeezing gently once before straightening and letting go. Harry had to take a sharp breath to avoid embarrassing himself, and turned for the entrance to the tent, feeling Trinket match him pace for pace.
"Come Potter," the gruff voice was oddly gentle, "I will walk you to your tent."
0o0o0o0
Dear Hagrid,
Thanks for the photos of the new Preserve. I can't believe you named it after me! I thought that the Rubeus Hagrid Haven for Misunderstood Beasties – as per Minerva's suggestion – was a much better name for it. I guess we shouldn't let Scottish women who've gotten into the sherry name dragon preserves, so I won't quibble too much about the name after all. I'm glad to hear that Minerva was able to join you for your holiday to Peru, and sorry to have missed you both, but Armando is adamant about the five month rule, and this time he was absolutely right.
I told you that the team was joining Ray and Ben in Canada, yes? And that they'd had a healthy daughter – I'm sure I sent a photo of little Victoria. Well, when we joined them there was a dose of flu going around, which Davy and May both caught simultaneously. So did the quads, the Littlest and Peter Welsh, and Ray as well. With so many sick people around, sleep was a rare commodity, and the stress of it all induced me to deliver a bit earlier than planned.
The photos – and when have we ever sent a letter without one? I've had to start a fifth album! – are of Elizabeth Molly and her proud siblings. Beth (we've already shortened her name) was not at all harmed by her early arrival, and neither was I. Ben's mother Caroline delivered me, as Armando was busy with his own children at the time, and I think I'm getting the hang of the whole process now. You can add the pictures of Beth and her happy family to your collection of the Potter Familias: a dangerous and misunderstood breed if ever I saw one. As you can see in the last, I'm fine, and being spoilt rotten by Dobby and Winky. It's a good thing that May had graduated to her cot already, because her little sister needs the cradle.
In other news, Trinket and Argent have finally set a date for their reconciliation, and we have welcomed the arrival of Gripclaw and his wife Gravel to the team. They are currently waiting for the final approval of the tents they intend to bring out to the site with them, as one will have a portal to a shop front in Venice. You wouldn't have thought a stone smith would ply his trade in a city that is sinking, but there you go. Gripclaw's business is entirely under his own command, and they are the first couple that are going us that are not at all related to the team's work. If this goes ok, Ben is thinking of inviting a second Herbologist to join him in the field. He hasn't said who it is yet, as he isn't sure if this guy would be willing to come. Apparently, he's a top name, and a bit hard to pin down.
We're well on the way to the status of a small village and if this keeps up, we may have to start thinking about electing a mayor! Not really, but it is funny to think that what started as an experiment in keeping people happy is rapidly becoming a way of life…
Oh! You should have seen that Hagrid! Davy just levitated his teddy! This is the first sign of magic I've seen in him, though I knew he had some ability as I could detect his magical core. He wanted to show teddy to Beth, and because I was busy writing you a letter he took matters into his own hands! He's grinning at me as if it was nothing out of the ordinary to be showing magic so early, and him not quite older than two years old! I have to go hug my son, so I'll stop here, sending all our love…
Harry, Davy, May and Beth
0o0o0o0
"Harry!"
The name sounded like it was being called by someone a long way away, standing in the belfry of the Notre Dame while the Hunchback was ringing for all he was worth. The rough surface he was lying on wasn't entirely stable, and when he opened his eyes he realised it was because the entire structure was ballooning in and out, a bit like a cartoon he'd once seen Dudley watch.
His head felt… fizzy… and his body was a distant, heavy weight that wasn't sure it was connected to him. One minute he could hear clearly, the next he was underwater, the next back in Notre Dame. His vision was blurred, and sometimes obstructed by a nasty haze of red that made his eyes sting terribly until he blinked to clear them. Everything was terribly blurred as well, but he thought that might be because he didn't seem to have his glasses on.
"Potter!"
"Harry! Can you hear us? Armando?"
"I don't have any life signs!"
Harry wondered why Armando didn't have any life signs, as he was obviously not dead – dead Healers didn't announce that they had died, did they?
"Potter! Let me go!"
Trinket was sounding angry about something, but Harry checked his hands. He wasn't holding onto anyone or anything. The surface he was lying on gave a lurch and he dug his fingers into it to stop himself from being flung off.
"He moved!"
Harry frowned at the pain in his arm and leg, but forced himself to slowly get to his feet. People were calling frantically, and Armando kept repeating the same things over and over again, but that didn't make much sense to him among the echoing and overlapping noise so he left it be. The wall in front of him was scarred with magic, but nothing lethal and Harry needed it to say upright. His left arm was wet, and he hoped that didn't mean that the structure was leaking, especially as he was sure it wasn't supposed to be flexing and swooping about like this. It made him feel sick to his stomach.
"Potter! Let me out of here!" Trinket roared, and Harry wavered on the spot, unable to support his weight on his numb left leg without letting go of the wall, which he dimly sensed was a Bad Thing to do. His head was beginning to hurt, the old scar pain roaring to life with a vengeance and there was something tugging at his insides.
"Stop it Trinket! You'll hurt him!" Armando barked, "We have to find a way to get him to release the shields before he passes out again without forcing it."
"Can't we just wait until he faints again?" Elaine sounded upset, and no wonder. It wasn't a nice thing to say about someone, and Harry hoped that she treated him better than whoever it was she wanted to faint.
"He held them unconscious before, and they're interfering with my diagnostic spells. He could bleed to death before we get to him if we wait," Armando sounded very urgent, and Harry looked hazily around for someone who was bleeding. Maybe he could help.
The wall had a seam in it, probably the edge of a door, and Harry explored it curiously with his fingers. Maybe whoever was bleeding was on the other side of the door. Something was bothering him, but he couldn't quite place it. He felt that he was missing something important, and for the life of him couldn't remember what it was. He propped himself up on the door for a moment and risked fishing his pocket watch out.
Squinting fiercely, he ignored the calling voices to make out the time. Ah, it was dinnertime. He should have packed up a while ago to have dinner with the children. His stomach did a slow roll, and Harry swallowed the sour flavour in his mouth. He put the watch away and turned automatically in the direction that would lead to the tombs main doors. The tugging sensation dropped away as he steeled himself to take that first painful step.
"Finally!" Trinket roared and appeared in front of Harry as if by magic. There were running footsteps as well, and Harry whimpered a little when Trinket reached up and braced him carefully.
"Easy Potter, you'll be ok," Trinket mumbled, and Harry nodded. The top of his head floated clean off unexpectedly, and the world rushed away in a cloud of white noise.
0o0o0o0
"Dad Dad Dad."
"Davy Davy Davy," Harry grinned, and opened heavy eyes. His children had fallen into the habit of repeating his name, at least the two who could talk did, and he repeated their name back – it was a little game they played together.
His son was leaning on his good leg, patting his knee, and Harry lifted the hand that wasn't strapped to his chest to pat Davy on the head gently. He'd been allowed to sit outside this afternoon, in a specially designed chair that Armando had produced from who knows where, and the mixture of sunlight and slight breeze had sent him to sleep.
"Did you have a good day with Missus Barbara?" he asked, and Davy beamed up at him happily. He hadn't spent as much time with his children as he would have liked, what with his initial injuries and slow recovery. He was sure he used to just bounce back from this sort of thing, but perhaps it was a sign that he was getting old. He'd hit his mid twenties already.
"There was a parrot and a monkey!" Davy nodded, and Harry wondered if that had been a story or an actual event. Madge chattered at him from the ground beside Davy's feet, and he smiled at the Tamarind fondly.
"And did you draw anything for me today?" he continued the conversation, and Davy nodded enthusiastically. His son loved drawing, and Harry had given him a small book with blank pages of his own to draw in. Davy used it as a sort of journal, recording his daily and past events in pictorial form.
"I drawed the sky and the moon and the clouds and us on the carpet Dad," Davy informed him, "And May painted her hands and the table and the chair and the front of Missus Barbara."
"Oh dear," he smiled, and looked up when Barbara Kowalski approached with May tucked onto her hip.
"Dad!" his daughter yelled and waved her arms enthusiastically. Barbara tightened her hold when May lunged for him, and Harry braced himself for the impact. The wounds were still painful and tender, and his daughter didn't understand why her father was so pale and fragile at the moment.
"No May," Barbara said firmly, "You must be soft with Daddy while he is sick."
"Dad," May's light green eyes held a sad look but she nodded and sat very still when placed on Harry's good leg. He patted her on the back and tweaked a lock of dark wavy hair to get her to smile. The wounds he'd incurred disabling the wards on the hidden chamber were slow to heal, inflicted as they had been by malicious magic. He'd reopened them once by accident, grabbing for May when she'd come to visit him and almost tumbled off the bed in her excitement. Since then his children had only been allowed very short supervised visits.
"I hear there was painting?" he asked Barbara, who rolled her eyes and nodded. She smiled good-naturedly at the child in Harry's lap, affection in her eyes. They'd made a very good choice when they'd hired the Kowalski's – his team had even complimented him on his superior interviewing skills… 'after all you had the sense to hire us' was one of the comments made.
"There was also washing and changing and quite a bit of scourgify," she chuckled, "Even the quads are better painters than your daughter."
"Well, I guess I can cross 'artist' off the list of possible careers," Harry told May, who beamed at him happily. Barbara bent down to pick up Davy and Harry gave his son a kiss on the cheek, nuzzling the soft cheek for good measure and telling his son goodnight. He did the same for May and watched the children as they were taken away to bed.
"You're awake," Armando came out of the hospital tent and then spotted the children, "Ah, I see… visiting time."
"I miss them," Harry confessed, and looked up at the Healer, "I know it can't be helped, but I miss playing with them."
"You will be with them again soon," Armando promised, "You've got to heal properly first."
Harry nodded and leaned back into the very comfortable chair. It had been a week and a half since he and Trinket had taken on the wards disguising the hidden chamber, and he still wasn't entirely sure what had happened. The team were coming by tonight to debrief with him and tell him what the chamber had been holding. He felt a little left out, he'd wanted to be there and make the discoveries himself, but that was just his love of a good mystery speaking.
"Come on, then," Armando said gently, "Come inside and have some dinner. Your elf Dobby was here, and has left you a delicious looking meal."
Dobby knew how to tempt Harry's appetite through just about any illness or malaise, and as Armando levitated the chair and Harry into the hospital tent, Harry wondered what treat was in store for him tonight.
0o0o0o0
"To start with, Potter, we need to know what you remember," Trinket announced as the team settled onto beds and chairs around him. Harry was propped up as comfortably as a bum leg and torn arm would allow, his stomach pleasantly full from the shepherds pie that Dobby had made for him.
"Not a bloody thing," Harry said ruefully, "I know that you and I were going to work on dismantling the wards on that hidden chamber, and I think I remember that Armando and Elaine were in the vicinity when we did, but of the actual work, or how I ended up with these injuries… nada."
"To be expected," Armando didn't seem at all fazed by Harry's memory loss, "The blow to your head, coupled with your scar bursting open like that… I'm frankly surprised you haven't lost more memory than you did."
"I'm surprised he's not dead," Harding muttered, "From our analysis of the magical backlash, you channelled enough magical energy to kill you three times over."
"I've made a career of surviving things like that," Harry sighed uncomfortably, "So are you going to tell me what happened or do I have to put on the bosses hat, as Ray would say?"
Ray grinned at him from where he was perched, and several people rolled their eyes. Harry didn't expect them to take the threat seriously, but he did expect to be told what had happened. Armando had been dancing around the topic ever since he woke, and Harry's curiosity was well and truly piqued.
"We started by reviewing the charts that Welsh and Welsh had provided," Trinket announced heavily, and Harry directed his attention to the Goblin. With a start, he realised that Argent was sitting beside her mate, sitting very still and quiet. He hadn't even noticed her, which was unusual.
"The charts were precise," Harding grunted, "Based upon the wards that you showed Elaine, you should have been able to take the defences down safely."
"I never thought they wouldn't be accurate," Harry assured his arithmancers, detecting the reason that Armando had been so hesitant to discuss this. The team must have been trying to get the events sorted out perfectly before presenting their findings to him. If there had been an error in the arithmancy that would have been a serious matter indeed. The mistake had very nearly cost lives.
"So there was a second set of wards below the first?" Harry asked, "Ones that I didn't detect and therefore Elaine couldn't have diagrammed for us?"
"I hate it when you do that caro," Francesca muttered, "It's taken us a week to confirm that information."
"Sorry, I'll be good. Finish telling me then," Harry grinned. The mood in the tent had lightened considerably, and he knew it was in part because he'd been able to deduce so quickly that there was no blame to be laid on anyone's shoulders, including his. He was sure that there was a reason he'd not detected the other layers of wards, and whatever that reason, blame would play no part in it.
"Yes, there was a second and third set of wards below the first. The third set were the controlling wards, and they were masked by the second, which were masked by the first. Disabling the first layer made the second layer jump to active footing, and that is where our problems began," Ray summed up the warding for Harry, who nodded to show that he understood.
"The wards were set to begin a cascade of magical defences that would quite literally rip the person attacking them limb from limb," Trinket took up the tale again. Harry noted that his gruff voice now held a trace of something else; "As I was the leading caster at the time, it attempted to take my head off my shoulders in the first few seconds, but you stepped forward and took the blow instead. How you remained on your feet after that, let alone accomplished what you did…" he trailed off, shaking his head. Harry raised his eyebrows patiently, and waited for them to get on with it.
"You shunted me into an alcove further up the corridor and erected a shield barrier across it to protect me, simultaneously erecting shields at each end of the corridor," Trinket revealed, and Harry nodded to show he understood, "The shields were battle quality, and we were unable to break them to get to you."
"What did I do once the shields were up?" Harry asked unsurprised to hear that the battle shields the Trio had worked on so many years ago had snapped into place the moment his instincts took over. They had been hard won, and deeply ingrained by the time the last battle occurred. As his job was more than a little dangerous, those instincts had been sharpened and refined over the years, not dulled at all.
"You disabled the second and third layer," Elaine said it simply, "Your scar burst when the second layer went down, and the third layer tore your left arm almost completely off, but you took them down hard, and then you passed out. The shields stayed up though. None of us can figure out how that happened."
"I didn't pass out, then," Harry shrugged his good shoulder, "The shields would have dissolved, or at the very least weakened enough for you to free yourselves if I had."
His team were quiet for a moment, thinking about the implications of that statement. He knew from experience that as long as he was conscious the battle shields would stay up, and they had discovered the hard way that even if he fainted they stayed up. Harry wasn't sure why that was, though there was someone had told him he was a stubborn pain in the faculties backside often enough for him to have a fair idea.
"Because they were tainted by the wards you'd destroyed, the shields prevented me from getting a fix on your vital signs," Armando shrugged, "At the time we thought you were dead, but looking back I can see that there was no way those shields would have stayed up."
"I'm not that strong," Harry agreed with a laugh. His team smiled and the mood lightened. The fact that he was there to listen to the debriefing was proof enough that no lasting harm had been done.
"You moved after a few minutes, but you weren't responding to us at all, and we were making enough noise to wake the dead," Armando shook his head, "Somehow you got back up and then... well, the newly revealed door fascinated you for a few seconds, then you pulled out your watch and dropped the shields."
"Oh," Harry realised what he'd been thinking, but decided not to share with his team that he'd decided it was time to knock off work and go home. Better to leave that little mystery unsolved, or at least leave their theories unconfirmed, "So what was in the chamber?"
"Gold, gems, precious metals, rare potions ingredients," Ray listed it off easily, "If you hadn't almost been killed, boss; I'd say this tomb was the better of the three you'd been to."
"This guy was much richer than the other two, hence the ability to ensure a living guardian for his tomb as well as the Soul Gem," Harry agreed, "Were there any artefacts at all?"
"No," Francesca sighed her disappointment, "But we did find the final panel needed to start looking for the fourth tomb."
The panels of clues had been scattered around the walls and chambers of this particular tomb, and Harry had worried that they wouldn't be able to find enough information to locate their next site with any accuracy. He didn't want to run any risks when it came to freeing the Soul Gems.
"Good to know," Harry smiled, "If you can talk Armando into it, I'd like to see the data you've collected, on the layers of wards as well as the fourth location."
"We can do that," Ray said, a faintly menacing tone to his voice. Armando shrugged, clearly not worried and Harry grinned again.
"Potter," Argent spoke up for the first time, and he jumped, and then winced in pain when various points on his body protested vehemently against the sudden movement.
"You have saved my mate from certain death," Argent continued, her voice low and resolute, "I am in your debt. A life for a life, I recognise your mastery."
Harry paled even further and slumped back into his pillows. Not another one!
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Extract from 'Harry Potter: The Man behind the Legend. An Unofficial Biography'
…Coming as they did at such a high cost, it was fitting that the contents of the hidden chamber were by far the most profitable for Harry Potter and his team. In terms of raw materials, this tomb yielded the highest net worth, and enabled Harry Potter to go forward with his plans for the fledgling Tent City; though it is common knowledge that Harry Potter considered the needs and advice of his team before any decision was finalised. The inclusion of other Goblins in that plan may have come as a surprise to those who didn't know the man, but it was typical of the Master Wardsman to consider ability and knowledge over race and social standing. To this day, Tent City operates on a policy of equality unparalleled in any other location.
Of course, it was the events at the Fourth Tomb that had such a profound impact on the recognition given to the fledgling City, and to Harry Potter's sovereignty over it…
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