Author's Notes: A thank you to Lisa725 for beta-ing another chapter. This is one of my favorite chapters, hence it being in two parts, and was also one of the first that my twisted muse (we call her Belinda) shared with me when this fic idea was birthed. I can only hope I did her (Belinda) justice with my ability to put it to words. Hope you like it.
Chapter 10 – 'Till Death Do Us Part, Part IThe problem making a deal with the Goblins is they expect you to make good on the terms. That meant another veneer of Harry entrails for the walls of the potions lab at the house. Swell. It helped less that Slytherin wasn't nearly as meticulous in his ministrations the second time round. But I guess it's to be expected considering I reduced the extracted remains of his pet basilisk to dentures in my new wands. In the end, the job got done, and now my mind is as solid as Gringotts' vaults.
Ultimately none of this shit matters. The journey is meaningless; all I'm worried about is the destination. The way I figure, I'm about two-thirds the way there; I'm standing at the corner of 'Showdown with Voldemort Blvd' and 'Two Shiny new Wands Lane'; and I'm looking at the road ahead. I can't say I mind the view too much either.
Filmore is certainly pleased with himself these days. He presented two twelve-inch, cadmo … tite … poly-chromium some such or other metal with basilisk tooth core wands. You'd have thought he was handing over his porn collection for all the to-do he made. Insanity and hairy arms aside, I have to give it to the Muggle. Those wands work better than my phoenix feather wand ever did. Filmore tells me it has to the do with conductivity of the metal to the flow of magic through it. He then went on at great length about how rudimentary wizarding knowledge of technology is and something about using toothpicks for weapons. Who am I to argue? The custom grip he contoured into the metal was a nice touch, but what really bring it home are the sharpened tips. You know, in case I get the urge to tracheotomize another Malfoy.
I had Dobby deliver the scrolls to Gringotts as soon as they were prepared. Then I found myself with three weeks of nothing to do but wait for a response. Filmore stopped training with me shortly after. Even without using Apparition, I'd gotten good enough to beat him consistently. He's stronger and certainly more skilled with a sword, but since the Flash Apparition blood potion, my speed became enough to overcome his advantage. Dueling graduated to instructing, and that's like sitting through a theory class on herbology.
Slytherin, despite his grumpy attitude of late, took to showing me multi-spell casting, which really just means casting the same spell out of two wands at once. It's tremendously draining on the magical core, but wouldn't you know there's a blood potion for increasing that as well – which is the reason why the walls in living area match those in the potion lab. But if ever you find the need for someone to teach you how to paint a faux finish with blood, I'm your man.
Idle time is a bad thing for a fatalist with a guilty conscience who's focused on carnage and revenge. Once you take away the carnage and revenge, all it leaves behind is the guilt. For that reason I claim zero accountability for my attendance at the Weasley-Delacour wedding.
xxx
Harry approached the Burrow with certain trepidation. For all that he might have owed to the Weasleys, no amount of obligation to the family outweighed the risk in being at the wedding. His compromise came in knowing no one was likely to notice. He would stick to the background, hidden on the outskirts of the event. In that matter, Fate smiled on him with the wedding being held at the Burrow. It was familiar territory so all the best hiding spots and escape routes were known commodities. Harry would be a guest, but only in spirit, and only he would know – at least that was the plan.
Despite his best attempts to fight back the warm fuzzies, being at the Burrow was a balm to his irascible conscience, offering relief from the constant chaos that now defined his life. For the first time since he'd been spit back on this earth, he was doing something simply because it was the right thing to do. Then again, that was the sort of logic three weeks of down time fostered — or so the Slytherin voice in his head told him.
After all, he wasn't exactly on good terms with…roughly estimating – everyone who would be there. Getting noticed, and thus earning any credit for actually showing up, would be a showstopper. Plus it meant his new wands would get their first test run on the people he used to call friends.
Fate smiles to your face; behind your back, she's got sand paper and rubbing alcohol.
He arrived disillusioned and immediately located a cluster of trees to hide behind. In what he considered a fine bit of charm work, Harry shrunk Filmore's vest so it fit snuggly and then turned it white. In doing this, it matched the white pants, shirt, and overcoat he also altered. The look certainly wasn't anything Madam Malkin's would be selling next season, but it was passable. He figured even if his intentions were to not be seen, there was no sense in acting like what he intended was usually what went down.
Look the part; this way when all hell breaks loose, it appears as if you planned it that way.
He settled into a spot amongst the grouping of trees about a hundred meters or so from the festivities. Even from that distance it was obvious there were way too many people present for comfort. Whether it was the Delacours or the Weasleys who were to blame it didn't matter; both families knew better.
At this point, there was nothing for it, so Harry took to admiring the suddenly glorious state of the Weasley property. The yard around the Burrow was usually a pretty drab spot. The pond was small and lifeless and the grass an annual shade of brown and yellow – but not on this day.
The seating area in front of the pond was covered with rows of highly adorned, white chairs. Matching white streamers swam around the seating, charmed to provide a faux boundary for the event. The grass was lush and a bright shade of green, and the pond was a deep, clean blue that rivaled that of the lake around Hogwarts. The open space above the seating had been charmed, much like the ceiling of the Great Hall, to match the decorations adorned on the chairs and along the aisle. As it was a perfectly cloudless and sunny day, this bit of work stood in impressive contrast all the more. The archway under which the couple was to be wed sat on a conjured, grassy island in the middle of the pond; it was accessed by a white, wooden bridge that floated above the water rather than on it.
Harry estimated there were at least a hundred seats on either side of the aisle. Most of them were already filled, and people were gathering behind the chairs to watch the wedding from a stand. Noticeable among those standing were various Aurors Harry recognized, all doing their best to appear as observant guests of the ceremony and not as the sentinels they truly were. Moody was there, and he was the only one who was a cause for concern. There was a good chance the man's mad eye could detect him; and if it did, the old Auror wasn't one let something as silly as propriety get in the way of making an arrest.
The crowd began to settle, and Harry shifted to his Thestral senses. It had the downside of providing Harry visual and olfactory evidence of which witches were possibly suffering from cramps, bloating, and breast tenderness; but it also meant he could hear everything. The prior information might have been useful were he looking for whom to avoid from the easy shag supply weddings usually provide, the later and intended benefit simply allowed him to hear the vows and speeches.
What he didn't expect was the sudden ability to see the wards surrounding the Burrow. Slytherin took note of this and suggested predictably it was the blood magic mixing with his animagus magic. The founder's useful contribution came when he shared with Harry what each visible ward was intended to do.
The enchanted instruments began playing, so Slytherin shut up. The conversation amongst the wedding guests died down as well, and Harry ignored the literal crimson tides he saw to watch the first bride's maid approach.
xxx
It had been a week since the massacre took place at the Weasley-Delacour wedding when Ringhurst appeared in Godric's Hollow. Goblins had very specific customs regarding grieving periods and the proper terms for reestablishing business talk with those aggrieved. According to those customs, Harry Potter still had another cycle of the moon before he was to be approached. Ringhurst didn't intend to wait. He reasoned to himself that it was questionable at best whether Harry was or was not to be considered an aggrieved party from what transgressed at the wedding ceremony gone wrong.
Ringhurst rapped his knuckles against the door-less doorframe that stood in front of the house ruins in Godric's Hollow. The ashen archway remained despite the fact that it looked as if a strong wind could blow it over at any moment. Standing there waiting for a response he wasn't sure was coming, the goblin actually hoped the frame would collapse. At least then it might draw the attention of the inhabitants residing beneath the ruined home. The frame held, and no such dramatic event announced the guest.
It wasn't needed. A moment later, Dobby popped to a position a few paces behind Ringhurst, gasped, and popped back to the basement of the house before Ringhurst had the opportunity to turn and see the elf.
"The goblins is being out front Master Harry Potter sir!" Dobby announced.
Trynsington bolted from the living area where he was reading and into his workspace. "Right the rat is!" he shouted from the room. "In the middle of the yard it stands, like an ugly garden statue. Hold on…is it…it is wearing a suit."
Harry stormed up the stairs, removing one of his metal wands from the wooden support beam it was staked into on his way. Dobby followed at the wizard's heels, just managing to squirt out past the basement hatch before Harry shut it on him.
The late night air was thick and overly warm. It left a blanketing humidity that made Harry's clothes stick to him almost as soon as he stepped into it. Spotting Ringhurst standing in front of the empty doorframe, Harry had to wonder how in the hell the goblin hadn't melted wearing that suit — though it was hardly the most pressing query on his mind.
"A – What are you doing here?" Harry said forcibly through a hushed tone. "And B – how in the hell did you find me?"
Ringhurst stood calm and dignified. "Ah, Mr. Potter, if I might be so bold, a door chime would prove useful."
"Those are for houses intending to receive guests," Harry replied simply.
Ringhurst waited for further response. None came, though a not-so-subtle growl could be heard from behind Harry. Ringhurst peered past the human to see an elf staring fiercely back at him. "Then perhaps you might call off your pet," he said with noted disdain.
Harry looked back at Dobby and saw the elf standing, hands planted at his hips, chest forward, brow furled, and a snarl on his lips. He looked back to Ringhurst. "He hasn't eaten yet tonight."
Ringhurst's face turned from smug to outrage. "Are you going to invite me in, wizard?" he asked through gritted teeth.
"No,." Harry said. "Why are you here?"
Ringhurst pulled at his suit and adapted an officious tone, "You have an arrangement with the Goblins of Gringotts. I have come to present our first return on that accord."
"Right then, and B, how in the hell did you find me?"
Ringhurst laughed mockingly. "Mr. Potter, you came to the Goblins of Gringotts requesting that highly difficult-to-find objects be found. Surely you don't believe it beyond our capacity to discover your location as well."
Harry wavered for a minute between different responses. "Then you've got the location of the first object for me?" he settled.
Ringhurst's smile settled into a disturbing, toothy, smirk. "No, Mr. Potter. I have brought the object with me."
Harry couldn't contain his disbelief. "You have…that's to say, I mean I didn't think…rather, I thought our arrangement was for locating the objects, not actually retrieving them."
"Considering the stakes on which our agreement is based, the Goblins of Gringotts saw prudence in discovering what in fact, it was we were locating for a wizard with a reputation…such as yours."
Harry's dumfounded gape contorted into a stern stare.
"May I come in now, wizard?"
"Should I Chunnel the banker's head, Harry?" Filmore called out from behind a pile of debris.
The three turned in unison to look at the source of the voice. If Ringhurst was surprised, he didn't show it. "Don't waste the bullet," Harry replied.
Filmore set his rifle down and walked toward the group. He twitched a couple times as he stared intently at the goblin. Ringhurst remained still as Filmore approached him, performed a slow, scrutinizing lap around him, sniffed the shoulder of his suit, and then firmly poked him in the arm. Content, Filmore stepped casually in front of the Goblin and leaned down so they were face to face. "My credit is pants." he said.
Ringhurst smiled toothily. "I eat Muggle babies."
Filmore's face remained stoic as he stood straight and turned to Harry, "Worse things have bankers done."
The goblin snorted, though in amusement or disgust it wasn't discernible. "Although this has been most informative, may we finally come to business?"
xxx
Harry watched as the first bride's maid made her way to the center of the aisle where Ron met her. Harry's chest hitched as he saw his former best friend towering over an unfamiliar girl he assumed to be a friend of Fleur's. The remnant emotions of a life past made him feel like choking himself for the implications. Ron had that awkward smile on his face that he carried when he was interacting with a girl he found attractive. Harry made a conscious effort of beating down the fleeting twinge of familiarity sensed in the presence of a close friend.
The next girl up the aisle was also someone Harry didn't recognize, but she was equally as beautiful. Fred, who looked like he was putting forth an effort to remain reserved, met her.
Ginny followed, and an unwelcome lump formed in Harry's throat. At this point, he was sure the three down weeks had driven him nuts; he might as well trade in the white coat now for a straight jacket. The young witch looked amazing in her dress robes, and the overwhelming smile on her face seemed to indicate that she knew it. Images of kissing her and feeling her smile at him came to mind, left out was the ridiculous sensation of a monster in his stomach. Maybe the straightjacket diagnosis was premature. He was now a monster onto himself, and in accepting that he realized these emotions were just old memories fighting for the life where they used to matter.
George met her at the aisle and escorted her to the island with the rest of the bridal party.
The approach of Gabrielle Delacour shook Harry from his reverie of Ginny; she was painfully beautiful, more so than Fleur had ever been, which seemed unfair considering it was supposed to be the elder Veela's day. Charlie met the young girl there, and it was obvious that he was having a difficult time drawing his eyes away as she took his arm.
The music stopped and then changed to a song Harry did not recognize. Everyone who wasn't already standing rose, and Harry noticed it was the cause of considerable distress for the Aurors. Fleur began her walk towards the aisle, and Harry had perhaps the best view of her. Both her parents escorted her, though they seemed to be holding her up more than actually walking with her down the aisle. Harry saw clearly that her shoulders hitched on more than one occasion, like she was crying.
He couldn't see her face as it was hidden under a veil. It left only her body language to convey the radiance, beauty, and grace that typified a bride on her wedding day. Unfortunately she wasn't managing anything close to that.
They reached the island, and Bill had to actually meet Fleur's parents to take his bride from them, as she was clearly unable to manage on her own. By now her behavior was growing beyond the acceptable limits of odd; still, none of the numerous guests responded.
"Must be a Veela thing," Harry thought.
"Not likely," Slytherin replied. "They are a species that places grace above almost anything else."
"Then why does everyone seem so calm about it?"
"Nobody wants to seem inappropriate," Slytherin replied, disgust evident in his voice. "Fools."
Harry couldn't see anything peculiar around Fleur. She wasn't bleeding, and there were no other scents or warded magic around her that seemed out of place.
The music died down and the vows began. Harry listened as the individual marrying the couple announced that they would be delivering their own vows; Fleur was to go first. She hitched once more, and the sound of her sob reached the audience as a sonorous charm had been activated for her.
"My Bill…" she managed and then sniffled, "eet eez incumbent upon me…"
Harry felt his scar explode! He collapsed to his knees and clasped his hand over his forehead, trying to ease the pain. It took a moment for him to orient himself, but slowly he built his Occlumency shields up and was able to keep the presence at bay.
He looked back to the wedding and saw nothing out of order. Frantically he searched the area around him – nothing. He looked in the trees above him – still nothing. Then Fleur's voice cut through.
"…eez…incumbent…" she sobbed but it caught half way through and then suddenly she stood straight. "Eet eez incumbent upon me zat I take dees most public opportunity to zay…eet's not wise to take ze Dark Lord's name in vain." Her voice was sinister, though it was hardly noticeable over the gasps coming from the audience.
Fleur released Bill's hands and took a step away from him. "Eet seems zat during ees absence, you have all forgotten ze rules." She pulled her wand from the cuff of her arm-length white glove. "Dees eez punishable by death."
Bill's eyes went wide as he realized his bride was pointing her wand at him. She sobbed noticeably one last time before she twitched and hissed, "Avada Kedavra!"
xxx
The banker stood in the middle of the living area beneath the house doing his goblin best not to touch anything. Custom tailored, designer suits weren't an easy thing to come by for the near one-meter crowd, and Ringhurst had seen gryphon stalls better kept than this place. "For a wizard of your wealth, you choose interesting accommodations, Mr. Potter."
"You were clever enough to find me. You know what this place is. Leave it be."
Ringhurst nodded his head slightly and then reached into his suit jacket to retrieve the grimoire. It was a thin, black, leather booklet, covered in plastic wrapping through which you could see gold runes on the cover. Gold filigree was set into the binding, and a large embossed Raven was on the back.
The goblin set the item down on the table before Harry. "Many goblins died retrieving this grimoire, Mr. Potter."
"Let me guess. Reanimated corpses, ward traps, and some sort of kill yourself to get it kind of contraption?" Harry saw a shocked response from the goblin that confirmed his suspicions. "Don't you hate it when that happens?"
Recovering Ringhurst responded, "Of course, considering what is within – death would be integral."
"It's a book of black magic…"
"It was a book of black magic," Ringhurst interrupted. "It is a vessel now. One that contains a soul fragment, and it is easy enough to deduce whose soul."
"And that changes things?" Harry asked.
"There was some discussion in that direction."
Ringhurst reached into his suit jacket once more and retrieved a solid, glossy black gem the size of a galleon. As he set it on the table next to the grimoire, thick swirling streams of blood red appeared from the center of the stone and flowed toward the edge of the gem nearest the book. When the reaction finished, the entire right side of the gem was filled with the hue while the opposite end remained entirely black.
"The Goblins of Gringotts believed they had brokered a deal strongly in their favor with you, Mr. Potter. They, like me, made the mistake of believing you a foolish child seeking power. It seems knowing what we know now, a fair exchange has been exacted."
"Never in all my existence did I believe such a thing to be real," Slytherin said.
"Well it's not like they've been swindling wizards since you had a body, Slytherin," Harry snapped back.
"No, moron, the stone…it's Semblac Infensor."
"Semblac Infensor?" Harry repeated in a whisper.
Ringhurst's stare snapped to Harry. "What do you know of these words, wizard!"
Harry shook from his conversation with Slytherin. "The stone, that's what it's called."
"How do you know this?" Ringhurst continued harshly.
Harry quickly gathered his composure and calmly stared down the goblin. "Ringhurst, I came to you seeking out the remains of the darkest-wizard-in-England's soul…" He left the statement hanging.
"You are a dangerous warlock; the Goblins of Gringotts will not again underestimate you."
"Does that mean we can't still be friends?"
The comment went ignored. "As I was saying, many goblins died to retrieve this book. However once in our possession, we could not access its contents."
"Because if the power hungry child wanted a book of dark magic the goblins were going to be damn sure they knew what was in it first," Harry added.
"Naturally," Ringhurst responded. "It was during our attempts to unlock the manual that Sarenbock went quite mad. He was able to reveal to us why just before his head was removed by goblin axe." The goblin pointed to the half black half blood red gem. "A moment later and my departed associate would have been successful in destroying Semblac Infensor." The goblin examined Harry's reaction as he stared at the objects on the table. "As you are already familiar with the Goblin name for the sacred stone, I will assume you do not need an explanation of its powers."
Slytherin responded promptly to the cue. "It was believed during the Goblin Rebellions that the goblins possessed an artifact that could remove the magic from a wizard. Though it was never discovered how the object worked, or what the object was, toward the end of the 1st Rebellion it was this gem that nearly provided the goblins the weapon needed to win the war."
"But they lost the war. How?"
"We created the inferi."
Harry could sense Slytherin's pause and waited.
"And then used their own dead against them. The Goblins surrendered shortly thereafter, unwilling to fight a war against dead brethren. Doing so goes against everything they believe. We knew this and took advantage."
"We wonder why everything not human hates us, and the line for 'next dark lord' is as long as Dumbledore's beard."
"No sentient race is without shame in its past."
"Some just became used to it and now accept it as the norm," Harry spat. "So, should I be worried about the little green guy here trying to suck my magic from me?"
"I can't be certain. I'd tell you to proceed with caution, but that would be a waste of advice."
Harry focused back on Ringhurst. "I know the fuzzy details. Magic rock, got an appetite for a wizard's magic, been around since the rebellions." Harry eyed Filmore, who was standing to his left. The Muggle shifted from his position and started circling to the other side of the goblin. "That being said, am I on the menu this evening?"
Rinhurst frowned. "Semblac Infensor is much more than a weapon, wizard. And if it was my intent to cause you harm, do you think I really would have placed myself in such a disadvantageous position?"
"Oh, I don't know. It's like you said, people have been underestimating me for a while now."
"No, Mr. Potter. I am a businessman, not a warrior. If I come for you, it will be from behind a mound of paper and legislation so thick you'll scarcely be able to cast a light spell without my permission."
xxx
Bill fell dead in the place where he stood.
"NO!" Molly Weasley screamed.
Harry turned his eyes in search of the Weasley matron only to find a dark clad individual standing at the very back of the crowd. It was Voldemort.
The wedding party on the island ran to Bill and Fleur, the Weasleys crowding around their dead brother while Fleur's sister and friends ran to the bride. Gabrielle reached for Fleur's wand, but the elder Veela wouldn't release it. Her friends saw this and attempted to shake Fleur from her trance, but she didn't react to their ministrations. The bewitched bride simply stood stiffly in place with her arm still extended in the direction of where her groom had once been.
The Aurors began fighting through the panicked crowd to get to the island when Voldemort spoke up.
"Now this is what I call a wedding." His voice carried easily over the screaming crowd.
Everyone looked to him in response, and all at once every single face went pale as recognition struck. Voldemort didn't even smirk for the reaction. "Fleur dear, finish what you started."
Silence, but for the muffled sobs echoing through the crowd, every head turned to watch what the murderous bride would do next. Unable to conjure even the slightest resistance to the Dark Lord's Imperius curse Fleur pointed her wand at her heart and screamed, "Reducto." The curse blasted through her and covered everyone on the island in a mist of blood.
There was another brief moment of silence until one inevitable, piercing scream shook the crowd from their horrified stares; complete pandemonium broke out. People began running in every direction that was away from Voldemort. In the midst of it all, Harry watched in disbelief as Voldemort stood there, arms folded, smiling.
His Thestral eyes keenly saw the now abundant streams of blood scent traveling towards him. But then he noticed several flashes of light that interrupted those streams; light that signaled the arriving apparitions of Death Eaters. That meant the wards had fallen, and it was exactly what he needed to spring into action.
Without hesitation he took off in a sprint towards Voldemort. No more than two steps in, Voldemort turned to face him. "I was certain I felt your presence here, Harry."
Harry didn't waste time with a response, instead he Apparated to the gap of open space behind Voldemort. A puff of black smoke snapped around him, and he was on the ground running towards the back of Voldemort. Voldemort spun instantly, and Harry raised his hand as he Apparated once again directly behind Voldemort. Another puff of black smoke, and he was only a pace away from the Dark Lord.
Blinded by the black vapor, Voldemort sensed his enemy behind him once again and quickly tried to turn. It wasn't fast enough, and all he managed to do was swing his head into the oncoming fist.
From a distance all that could be seen was the white blur that was Harry, three puffs of black smoke on alternating sides of the Dark Lord, and finally from the last cloud of smoke a fist appeared. Harry stepped through the punch with the full force of his momentum and landed a blow that lifted Voldemort from his feet and sent him flying through the back three rows of chairs.
When the smoke cleared, only Harry was left standing where Voldemort had once been. "Can you feel me now?" he snarled.
xxx
"So what's with the Saran wrap around the book?" Harry asked as he lifted the grimoire from the table. In the absence of the Horcrux the blood red hue on the Semblac Infensor dissipated back into itself almost instantly. "Don't tell me all you need to keep the Volde-mini sterile is a plastic wrap cover?"
Ringhurst grinned. "Quite so, Mr. Potter. As long as the skin does not come into contact with the item, it is not possible for the essence within to affect the holder."
"No shit," Harry stated. "…And the goblins just have this stuff lying around?"
"In the Department of Underestimation, it is wizards who have been leading the way for some time now. The goblins long ago realized the ingenuity of Muggles." Ringhurst eyed Filmore after saying this, "and the endless amounts of profit to be made taking advantage of them."
"And your leftovers keep longer," Harry added.
Harry tossed the grimoire back onto the table carelessly. He stared for a moment at the Semblac Infensor, waiting for the blood red hue to return. Once it did so, Harry turned his gaze to the goblin. "What's the deal then, Ringhurst? Why come out all this way and deliver this yourself? Why show me the rock with the magic-be-gone?"
"Because in order to build trust, one must sometimes first display it," Ringhurst responded.
"Then you want something more from me?"
"Only the truth, or at least the version you would have to offer. The Goblins of Gringotts, and I, wish to know how such a thing was created and to what end. You negotiated in our agreement the possible location of up to seven objects; a magically powerful number. Are we to interpret that there are then seven fragments of the Dark Lord's soul?"
Harry thought for a moment. "And for this information, you'll tell me more about that gem?"
"Should the information you provide deem valuable. I come with an offer that should aid in your cause."
"What do you think, Sal?"
"Now you want my advice?" Slytherin scoffed. "I never thought you should have approached the goblins to begin with. What matter is it what I think now? Tell them. Don't tell them. I fail to see the consequences at this point."
"Did you bring any more of that plastic wrap, Ringhurst?" Harry asked.
The goblin cocked his head sideways with a puzzled look. "Why do you ask?"
"Cause you're going to want to have a seat if I'm to tell you what I know, and we can all see you don't want to ruin that pretty suit."
Harry spent the next hour telling Ringhurst about the Horcruxes and Riddle's history. Periodically, he stopped to address Filmore's quips about the doom of wizardkind. Ringhurst surprisingly took the information without much alarm.
"So," Harry said, "does my gory little story score high enough on the valuable scale?"
"Quite," Ringhurst replied simply. "Knowledge is power, Mr. Potter, and the knowledge you have shared with me today is unquestionably powerful."
"And knowing what you know now, does that mean the goblins might do something about it?"
Ringhurst paused. "Neutrality is often the most profitable approach. It's one that we will maintain until it becomes more profitable to act otherwise." Ringhurst stood and retrieved the Semblac Infensor. "However, there are many different forms of action that may be taken without disturbing the appearance of impartiality."
"For fuck's sake, Ringhurst. Stop talking in circles. If you're going to help, great, if not get on with the show and tell and be on your way."
Ringhurst snarled, "One day wizard, your sharp tongue is going to get you into trouble beyond your abilities."
Dobby popped back into the room at Harry's and set a menacing snare on his face, Filmore also stood from his position across the room. Harry looked at both his companions and then back to the goblin. "Maybe, but not this day."
Ringhurst's snarl widened then vanished. "Enough of this," he snapped. "I believe these foul surroundings have saturated my temperament." The goblin crossed the space between Harry and handed him the stone.
After turning his back to the wizard Ringhurst began. "What you hold in your hand is a great symbol of our kind. The powers within only respond to goblin magic, and as you have tersely stated, can remove the magic from a wizard. I would tell you its history, but you would undoubtedly mock and belittle this information. What is of importance is that I believe this stone may hold the key to destroying the Horcruxes you so badly seek."
Ringhurst turned, expecting to see at least a look of interest from Harry. Instead he saw the wizard wasn't paying attention to him at all. Harry stood frozen. His eyes firmly fixed at the object in his hands, his mouth slightly agape, and though it seemed impossible his ashen gray skin was absent of what little color it still carried.
The bottom half of the Semblac Infensor, the part nearest to Harry's body, was saturated with the blood red hue.
Filmore looked down at the rock from Harry's side, and then looked at the catatonic stare on Harry's face. "Looks like one less souly bit the fine suited bankers will have to find then, eh?"
xxx
Maybe it was Harry's imagination, but it seemed like there was a sudden pause in all the "oh gods" and "help me's" when the Dark Lord was sent ass over tit. Whether it actually happened that way or it was Harry's mind playing tricks, the immediate reaction afterwards was decidedly not in the non-Death Eaters favor. Instantly the area lit up with spells volleying at the crowd. Cries of agony returned quickly when the first victims fell.
"HARRY!" Hermione screamed.
His attention was drawn to the girl in response. That was a mistake. Voldemort's spell hit him in the chest like a truck and sent him flying nearly twice as far as he'd sent the Dark Lord. Even worse, this spell actually hurt. That witch was really causing him more trouble than he needed — not to mention another set of ruined clothes.
He coughed up a mouth full of blood and looked at it with disgust. His white overcoat was shredded and charred black in a circle at the center of his chest where the spell had struck. The vest beneath held, but was also stained black by the blast of the curse.
Harry knew better than to get up where he fell, and so he Apparated onto his feet in front of the island. Two Death Eaters closed in from his left and right while Voldemort shot a spell at him from the length of the wedding aisle.
He ducked to his knees and crossed his arms over his chest, drawing out both wands from within his overcoat. Arms extended Harry yelled, "Pangosum!" The spell struck both Death Eaters simultaneously, spinning them in place as a spell sent from Voldemort's flew over his head. The Dark Lord's purple spell landed against one of Fleur's bridesmaids, dropping her dead where she stood.
"Mind your position, Harry," Slytherin reminded him needlessly.
Voldemort snarled and then Apparated to the middle of the crowd. A chorus of screams announced his arrival, saving Harry the trouble of having to find him. The people spread away from the Dark Lord in a perfect circle, and Harry realized exactly what he was trying to do.
"It's a cute trick, how bout we show him one better"." Harry smirked.
"Remember, always three moves ahead," Slytherin replied.
Harry took off in a sprint down the aisle towards Voldemort. A couple paces in, he turned and planted one foot onto a chair and leapt upwards as he Apparated to a spot in the air above Voldemort. There was a puff of black smoke as he disappeared and another as he flashed into the air twenty feet above the Dark Lord, his momentum carrying him higher still. Tucking his head and arm, he forced his body to rotate so that he was upside down and facing Voldemort. "Reducto!" he shouted while pointing both wands. Riddle was easily powerful enough to block such a rudimentary spell, of course that's only if the spell was aimed at him.
Harry's spell landed two paces in front of Voldemort, and even as the man tried to back away, the force of the explosion sent him tumbling against the retreating crowd. Harry reached the pinnacle of his flight when he Dissaparated in another puff of black smoke and allowed an extended amount of smoke to cover him and Voldemort when he reappeared to a stand over the man.
Voldemort was splayed on the dirt face forward and already recovering by the time Harry was there. He wouldn't get the opportunity to rise. Harry brought his knee down onto the back of his enemy's neck as hard as he could. The force drove Voldemort violently to the ground, his face turned and his neck compressing from the blow.
Harry leaned down to the monster beneath him. "Somebody's learned how to kick your Dark Lord Ass!" He pushed his open palm into the back of Voldemort's head, forcing it farther into the dirt beneath. "You take a punch like a little bitch, you know that?" Harry growled. Voldemort hadn't the capacity to form a response; instead he just released a hard blow of air that only succeeded in forcing a cloud of dirt up into his eyes. "Maybe I can't kill you yet, but I'm perfectly happy seeing you returned to fucking vapor in the interim."
xxx
"So, uh, Ringhurst…I think your fancy rock's broken," Harry stammered.
Ringhurst peered over Harry's shoulder, joining Filmore and Dobby, who both took to Harry's side after he collapsed onto the sofa behind him.
"This is quite…unexpected," the goblin stated.
"That's one way to say it. I'd go with completely fucked!" Harry said.
"Two souls, in the wizard's head then, yes?" Filmore asked. "A no vacancy sign might be of help."
"Oohh!" Dobby wimpered, "very bad…eemm…" The house elf began shaking and looking around. Setting his sight on the table where the grimoire laid Dobby got to his feet and began beating his head against the leg of the table. "Can't. Let. Evil. Wizard. Take. Great. Harry. Potter." The elf punctuated each announcement with the pound of his head.
It crossed Harry's mind that his situation might be improved if he joined the elf. Instead he turned to Ringhurst and spoke. "This is the part where you tell me that the goblins splurged for the de-Horcruxing option in their amazing little gem."
Ringhurst didn't respond.
"Right?" Harry prodded.
Ringhurst shook his head. "I'm afraid it's not that simple, Mr. Potter. We believe the Semblac Infensor may be capable of drawing the Dark Lord's soul fragments from the objects they inhabit, but nothing is certain."
"What do you mean 'believe'?" Harry snarled.
"Wizard, it is not the practice of the Goblins of Gringotts to investigate solutions for the atrocities of your kind."
"Though a profit from them, perhaps," Filmore gruffed. The man stood and picked up the unconscious body of Dobby. "If listen to any more of this I have to, a sturdier fixture than one table leg will be necessary for self-flogging." He carried the elf into his workshop, leaving Harry and the Goblin behind.
"You knew," Harry said.
"I had a notion, yes," Slytherin replied unapologetically.
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean? A 'notion'! I think it's going to rain this afternoon; maybe I'll try the treacle tonight with dinner; hey is that love potion I tasted on those cupcakes Ginny Weasley gave me? Those are fucking notions! Whether or not you're rooming in my brain with a Voldemorsal is something that should be crystal bloody clear about!"
"Harry, I could not be certain of what I suspected," the founder calmly replied. "I am a disembodied voice in your head; it isn't like I can have a look around and see who my neighbors are. Yes, I felt something…unnatural within you. Considering what you've experienced, it wasn't beyond reason such a thing could have been the result of the process."
"You should have said something!"
"To what end, boy!" Slytherin barked. "Stop being so impulsive and use your very crowded head. Had I discussed with you my concern, what would have been your reaction? There is no question you would have undoubtedly obsessed over its implications — and rightfully so. But that obsession would have been at the expense of placing your attention where it was truly needed. No. Until I was certain, there was nothing to be gained."
Harry refocused on the room around him. Ringhurst was studying him curiously. "What the hell are you staring at?" he snapped.
Ringhurst maintained his composure. "What will you do now, Mr. Potter?"
Harry's rage had manifested fully. The room around him had gone frigid. Ringhurst obviously noticed, but he responded only by buttoning his suit blazer. "What will the Semblac Infensor do to me if you attempt to withdraw the Horcrux from my head?"
"It cannot be certain. The likely result will be the complete removal of your magic along with the Dark Lord's essence."
"What about you Sal? Now that we're not dealing in notions any more, you got a solution for this mess?"
"You know what I'm going to tell you, Harry," the founder replied sympathetically.
"You got nothing," Harry said.
"Unfortunately, not at the moment."
"Swell," Harry said in response to both.
xxx
Closing Notes: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed. I've gotten some really, really flattering feedback and I'm very grateful for it. I finalized the working outline for this fic and it's a pretty sure thing that we've only got five chapters and an epilogue to go. There may be a delay in my posting of the last few chapters, but I'll work hard to avoid that. Special thanks go to Von, Big D on a Diet, what are you even saying, ochiteirutenshi, Steve's Place, and everyone else. I'll be a day or two later than usual with my review responses but they are coming, I promise.