Chapter 20
The Helm Of Gryffindor
First thing the next morning, Harry was getting ready for class with a shower, as he felt a bit grimy from Quidditch practice the previous evening; he then woke Ron and got dressed while Ron complained that he never had enough time in the morning to get ready for class.
"Wake up earlier, then," Harry said, very logically, while fastening his tie.
"Then I never have enough time for sleep," Ron complained.
Harry looked around for his school robe, then remembered he'd put it in his trunk. Unlocking the trunk (Why did I put it there? he wondered), he pulled out the robe, shook it out, and put it on. He and Ron grabbed their book bags and went down to breakfast.
As Ron piled eggs and sausages onto his plate and Harry decided on a bowl of cornflakes and milk, the owl posts arrived, among them Hedwig, who landed on Harry's shoulder, nipping affectionately at his finger as he untied the pouch attached to her leg. He took the pouch, then held out a piece of toast while praising her. "It's from Fred and George," he said to Ron after reading the note tied to her leg.
Harry,
Have some ideas to discuss with you. Will see you in person soon.
Fred and George
"What's all that about?" Ron wondered.
"They probably didn't want to say anything in an owl post, in case it was intercepted," Harry decided. "Damn. Well, we'll just have to make sure we can get there on the next Vault Tournament round."
They bolted through the rest of breakfast then raced down to the Potions classroom.
When they arrived, they found several students, including Jon and Hermione, queued up waiting for Professor Slughorn to open the door. Jon, seeing Harry, walked over to him and asked, "Did you bring Lupin's book with you?"
Harry gave him a blank look. "What d'you mean, Lupin's book?"
"The one we found yesterday," Jon said, staring at him curiously. "You know, the one disguised as a book on chartered accountancy?" As both Harry and Ron continued to look at him blankly, Jon said, sounding peeved, "Are you pulling my leg, or what?"
"I remember talking about chartered accountancy," Harry said, thinking back. "But otherwise I have no idea what you mean." He looked at Hermione. "Do you know what he's talking about?"
"No idea," said Hermione, shrugging.
"Look," Jon said, beginning to lose patience. "It was on a note in a hidden compartment in one of my bedposts, remember?"
"I remember," said Ron, sounding a bit resentful. "It was Fred's old bed, but he never told me about that compartment!"
Jon pulled a piece of parchment out of his robe. "I wrote down the name and author of that book. He showed them the parchment, with "Chartered Accountancy: A Muggle Approach, by Purus Nilem" written on it. Below that was written the name "Remus Lupin" with lines drawn from each letter in "Purus Nilem" to the corresponding letter in Lupin's name.
"It occurred to me," Jon said, pointing to the diagram he'd made, that the letters in these two names were similar, and you'd told me, Harry, that Remus Lupin helped create the Marauder's Map. What really got me, though, was this." He pointed below the diagram, where he'd scrawled the words, "The poem from the book."
"But where's the poem?" Hermione asked, seeing nothing below the words Jon had written.
"They're gone, magically erased," Jon said.
He was about to go on when a booming voice behind them said, "Good morning, everyone!" It was Professor Slughorn, finally arriving for Potions class. The portly Potions Master stepped through the group queued at the door, unlocked it, and led them into the classroom. "I hope you won't be too upset with me for the few minutes we've lost," he said jovially, placing his bag on his desk and turning to face them as students filed into the room. "I was up late grading your essays from last week and these old bones of mine are not as used to being up this early."
Harry and Ron put their book bags on their desk then stepped over to Jon and Hermione's desk. "How could what you wrote be 'magically erased?' " Harry asked in a low voice.
"I don't know," Jon replied, just as softly, so that only Harry, Ron and Hermione could hear him. "But none of us remember that book from yesterday, though I clearly remember seeing the note from the bedpost and talking about a book on chartered accountancy.
"I used a Memory Charm on myself –" Jon began, but Ron interrupted.
"Why would you want to make yourself forget that?" he demanded. "I thought you were trying to remember something!"
Hermione put her hand in front of her mouth, while Jon said, "You're thinking of Obliviate, Ron; Memory Charms are also to help you remember."
"Oh," Ron said, sounding weary of being corrected about magic.
"Maybe you just forgot that, Ron," Harry said, even though he hadn't remembered that fact, either; Ron just rolled his eyes.
"I used a Memory Charm," Jon continued, "but I still didn't come up with anything from the night before. I decided to extract my memories from the entire previous evening and looked for any grafts or splices –"
"Really, the entire evening?" Hermione said, sounding surprised.
"I didn't even make it to breakfast this morning," Jon said with a shrug. "But I did find where something like an Obliviate spell was used. It was very specific – it cut out every instance where we referred to Lupin's book or anything I copied from it, like that poem on the front piece."
They were interrupted again by Slughorn saying, "Here now, let's get started! Potter, Weasley, back to your desk, please. Pip, pip! Everybody settle down and get out your books…" Jon thrust the piece of parchment he held back into his robe.
Harry barely paid attention to the Potions lesson; he was concentrating mightily on trying to remember exactly what had happened the previous evening. Just as with Jon, there were gaps in Harry's memory. He had to think very carefully to see any gaps at all; the ends seemed to flow together as his mind tried to work out the continuity.
It also didn't help that Wednesdays were their busiest class days, with Potions followed immediately by Defense Against the Dark Arts, then a double Herbology class in the afternoon. Slughorn kept them to the very last moment in Potions, forcing them to run to Snape's class, who, on his part, immediately collected their essays assigned the day before and launched into a lecture on advanced defensive techniques against stronger offensive spells like the Blasting Curse, the Entrail-Expelling Curse, and hexes and jinxes such as Knee-Reversing hex and the Finger-Removing jinx, which might seem relatively minor but could be cast to good effect on an opposing wizard during a duel.
Most of it was stuff Harry had already covered while teaching the members of Dumbledore's Army in his fifth year, so he barely listened, still trying to recall the details of the previous evening. By the time Snape dismissed them for lunch, however, Harry was no closer to remembering what had actually transpired the previous evening than he was when Jon first mentioned it.
At lunch he sat next to Jon, who was hungrily filling up a plate full of sausages, mashed potatoes and gravy and rolls. "So what did you figure out about last night?" Harry asked without preamble.
"Oh – let's see," Jon said, trying to remember where he'd left off. Hermione and Ron, who'd joined them as well, were listening closely; they had been part of the conversation as well the previous night, but had no recollection of the book Jon spoke of. "I made some notes yesterday about the poem we found in the front of that book." He pulled the parchment out of his pocket again, showing them the blank lines below where he'd written about a poem from the book. "While Snape was lecturing, I wrote out the poem again as I recollect it from my reconstructed memories." He reached into his book bag and pulled out a piece of parchment, showing them:
The numbers herein count silver and gold,
Yet three of these numbers, renowned of old
The perfect, the power, and the count of our noses,
Will reveal the secrets the Marauder's Map poses.
"When we figured this riddle out yesterday," Jon said, "we came up with the numbers six, seven and four, and Hermione tapped the book as she said these numbers; it then turned into Lupin's book about making the Marauder's Map.
"But this morning when I asked about the book, all of you only remembered the accountancy book, and I found that my memory had been tampered with by a Memory Charm. I expect we'd find the same thing if we checked any of your memories."
"Aha," Harry said, catching on. "So if Fred and George learned about the Marauder's Map from this book, it explains why they don't remember how they figured it out – because they forgot the next day that the book existed!"
"Right!" Jon agreed. "Now the only problem is, what happened to the book?"
It was indeed a problem. After the double Herbology class, Harry and Ron returned to their dormitory with Jon and looked through every inch of his bed, cabinet and trunk. It was no use, though; no book, either by Remus Lupin or Purus Nilem, turned up anywhere in his things.
"And what're we going to do tomorrow," Ron finally said, after they'd given up the search, "will we forget all about this and go through the same thing all over again?"
"No," Jon said. "I'll think of something."
"What?" Harry asked.
"I have no idea," Jon said, shaking his head. "I'll let you know when I figure something out."
The Monday after the second Round of the Vault Tournament arrived, and with it more articles in the Daily Prophet about the wizard competing and their attempts to open it. Ron waited anxiously as Hermione unrolled her copy of the Prophet, waiting for word on the status of the Vault. He breathed a sigh of relief when Hermione showed him the headline, then began to read aloud:
Vault Tournament Round Two:
No Winner Yet.
Round Two of the Vault Tournament ended without a winner. Three wizards and one witch each attempted to open the mysterious Vault from the secure storage section of Gringotts Wizarding Bank without success. Two of them have been treated and released from St. Mungo's, one remains hospitalized in what one Healer candidly described as "scary" condition, and the location of the fourth remains unknown.
"It's been an interesting two rounds so far," Bill Weasley, the referee and host of the Tournament, told The Prophet. "Of course, we didn't expect someone to just come in and open it right up – that might've made the Bank wonder what they're paying us for."
The first contestant of the Second Round, Mr. Argen McCalman, of Walsall, Staffordshire, examined the vault for 23 minutes before beginning his attempt to open it. He told The Prophet before his attempt, "I watched them blokes last time. Blimey, I was sure when old man Ollivander went up there it was done for sure. I remember him selling me my first wand, even. I think there's a pretty easy way in, but I'm not saying nuthin' til I have a go at it meself."
Mr. McCalman's attempt was to Transfigure the pins holding the hinges out of the door, which met with failure and both of his own arms deboned. He was taken immediately to St. Mungo's where his arms were regrown over Saturday and Sunday evening. Mr. McCalman, a graduate of Hogwarts, works for the Muggle Walsall Academy as a maintenance man. He has received several service awards for the cleanliness maintained in the buildings under his charge. It is anticipated he will return to work Monday morning will no ill-effects from the regrowth of the bones in his arms.
"Nasty business, that," a voice from the other side of the room said loudly. Hermione and others at the Gryffindor tabled turned; Draco Malfoy was looking at his own copy of the Prophet. "Well, you won't have to worry about Round Three."
"Why not, Malfoy?" Ron said scornfully. "Are you going to tear it open with your kung fu grip?" A number of students in the Great Hall laughed, including some at the Slytherin table; they made no attempt to hide it from Malfoy.
"Just wait," Malfoy said, addressing both Ron and those at his table who laughed. "My uncle Julius is signed up for the Third Round – he'll get it open. You just wait and see."
"Yeah, we'll see," Ron drawled, imitating Malfoy's bored voice and turning away. Turning to Harry, he said in a low voice, "Malfoy's got an Uncle Julius? I wonder what bog he crawled out of?"
"Dunno," Harry said, just as low. "Never heard of him before today."
Hermione continued reading, summarizing as she read: "The second contestant was Llewellyn Glainhorne, from Winchester, Hampshire… he's an employee of the Ministry of Magic, it doesn't say what department, though."
"Probably Department of Mysteries, then," Ron suggested. "They don't like to say much about where they work since Bertha Jorkins was murdered."
Hermione continued: "Mr. Glainhorne spent about 20 minutes studying the Vault before attempting to open it by placing a charm on the locking mechanism that greatly amplified the sounds made while turning the external knob. However, Mr. Glainhorne was only able to work on the knob for a few seconds before his ears began to grow in size and sensitivity. He stopped, complaining that all sounds were now being magnified to the point where even hearing the crowd's heartbeats and inhalations and exhalations were painful. He was taken to St. Mungo's were he was treated and released the next day."
"It's pretty clear that Vault doesn't want anyone getting into it," Dean Thomas observed. Seamus, sitting next to him, nodded agreement.
"What happened to the last two competitors, Hermione?" Ron asked.
Hermione scanned the article text. "The third contestant was a registered Animagus, a Mr. Acaro Tularem of Lyme Stoats, Berkshire. The article says he tried to enter the Vault by assuming his Animagus form, that of a tick – eeeyuuu – but after only about 30 seconds he was discharged from the mechanism, whereupon he fell to the ground and grew, still in tick form, to the size of approximately a milk cow. He is still under observation at St. Mungo's, where one Healer described his condition as 'large and scary'." A few Hufflepuff girls, listening nearby, made noises of disgust and giggled among themselves. Hermione herself shook her head, grimacing, then continued reading about the final contestant.
"The fourth contestant, a witch who identified herself as Doris Crockford, of London, attempted to Vanish the Vault door, but instead she disappeared herself. Attempts to locate her have so far been unsuccessful; a frequent patron of the Leaky Cauldron, Mrs. Crockford's absence was notable especially to Mr. Thomas Edenhall, proprietor of the Leaky Cauldron, who said, 'I knew somethin' was wrong Saturday night when Dorrie didn't show up for her evening constitutional. You could set your watch by her, you could; she always had a smile for you, an' everyone who knew her liked her.'"
It was nearly time for their first Monday class, Herbology. Harry, Ron and Hermione gathered up their book bags and raced off to the greenhouse where Professor Sprout, after collecting their essays comparing the various properties of wand woods, began a discussion of the subject, describing the magical uses of "flying rowans," why very few Slytherin students used ash wands, and why oak was considered in some circles to be the best wood for mantelpieces on fireplaces.
For their practical lesson that day, Professor Sprout was bringing round a set of small stone basins to each group of students. "If you'll split into pairs," she told the class, "I have some different woods here for you; I'd like you all to observe what happens when a little experiment is performed with them."
Ron was next to Hermione, leaving Neville the closest free person to Harry. "Shall we pair up for this, Harry?" Neville said heartily. "It's been a while since we've talked."
Harry nodded absently. Although he didn't think much of what had got into Neville since Voldemort disappeared, there was no denying that he was gifted in Herbology and was easily the best student of his age in the class, next to Hermione.
"How have you and Ginny been getting on?" Neville asked after Professor Sprout had handed him and Harry each a handful of branches, each about a foot long and each labeled with the type of wood it was: birch, rowan, ash, oak, holly, elder and others. Harry recognized some of them as being wand woods.
"We're doing fine, Neville, but we're not 'together' any more," Harry said, more curtly than he meant to. "How are you and Luna doing?"
"Super," Neville said, smiling broadly.
Lowering his voice, Harry said, in genuine concern, "I was a bit worried when I saw you two talking in our dormitory; she looked pretty upset."
Neville had an indulgent smile on his face; it was a most un-Neville-like expression. "Luna is sometimes a bit overprotective of me. You know, I was something of a prat when I was younger."
Not knowing what to say, Harry just put a skeptical expression on his face. "Oh it's true!" Neville said, taking it as if Harry'd disagreed with him. "I walked around practically scared of my own shadow. The teachers were always taking the mickey out of me – particularly Snape. Well, except for Professor Sprout," Neville amended himself, nodding fondly toward their Herbology teacher. "She's really given me a lot of encouragement over the last six years."
"I'm glad to hear that," Harry said earnestly.
"If you would, please," Professor Sprout was saying, "fill your basin with water and I'll come round momentarily and add a little something to each one." Students began pulling out their wands and using them to fill the basins. Harry and Neville both took out their wands at the same time; Harry started to say the spell but Neville stopped him. "No, please Harry, let me."
Harry nodded and Neville said "Aguamenti." A stream of water from his wand filled the stone basin almost to the brim. Neville, smiling and holding up his wand, said, "I wanted to use mine because I think I know what Professor Sprout is going to have us do," and my wand is made from cherry."
Harry nodded again, though not because he knew what Neville was getting at. Looking over at Hermione and Ron, Harry saw Ron carrying a pitcher of water from the clear spring water supply nearby; Hermione had apparently insisted on using it rather than water from either of their wands.
Professor Sprout approached, carrying a very small potion bottle. Into Harry and Neville's basin she poured just a few drops of the liquid, which swirled and spread throughout the water. She did the same for Ron and Hermione's basin and continued with the rest of the class. Then, putting the top back into the bottle she returned to the front of the class. "I've added a few drops of dragon blood to your basins. If you'll recall, one of the uses of dragon's blood is its responsiveness to magical ability. I want each of you take the pieces of wood I've given you and stir the water slowly with them, observing the effect each one has on the dragon's blood."
Students got busy following Professor Sprout's instructions. "I've heard about this," Harry heard Hermione saying to Ron. "It should be interesting to see how each of the woods react."
Harry pulled a stick of wood from his bundle. Neville did the same. Harry recognized the wood, but checked the label to be sure – it was oak. "Go ahead, Harry," Neville encouraged him. Harry gingerly stuck the tip of the oak into the basin and began stirring slowly.
Nothing seemed to happen at first, but Harry finally saw that there was a faint glow coming from the water as he stirred it. Looking closer, he saw that the dragon's blood not just reddish in color, but was actually glowing red as well. "It's red!" he said to Neville, who nodded and smiled.
"If you haven't thought of it by now," Professor Sprout's voice carried over the comments and exclamations of the class. "You should be writing down what you see when stirring your basin with a given stick. Also be sure to note who was doing the stirring." There was a general scrambling for parchment and quills – looking over, Harry saw that Hermione was already writing down what she and Ron had seen.
Neville, likewise, had already pulled out parchment and quill. "I kind of knew what to expect," he told Harry softly. "Professor Sprout does this in every seventh-year class – I heard about it last year."
He finished writing Harry's wood and color combination and then dipped his own stick in. "This is holly," he said, looking at Harry.
"My wand is willow," Harry said. He watched the swirling water carefully. After several seconds the dragon's blood began glowing a deep blue, almost purple.
"Purple," Harry said.
"More like indigo," Hermione said. She was looking into their basin as Neville stirred the holly stick. "That's a good color, Harry – it indicates a protection from Dark magic."
"Yes," Neville agreed, looking at her. "Have you seen this practical before?"
"I've read about it in a book on wands," Hermione said. "It's an interesting test although I'm not sure we're doing it the right way here."
Neville look mildly nonplussed. "Why do you say that?"
"The dragon's blood could also be influenced by the person stirring it as well as by the wood," Hermione pointed out. "The color could reflect the emotional state or even the overall personality of the person stirring the dragon's blood solution as well as the type of wood stirring it."
"I've read that too," Neville said. "It seems like the person would have to be in a very emotional state or concentrating very hard for their personality to overwhelm the wood's magical capacities."
Ron caught Harry's eye and rolled his own, making Harry grin. All the same, he thought, he never expected to see Hermione and Neville having a debate over magic!
Later, after they had tried several more sticks and written up their findings, turning them in to Professor Sprout, Hermione and Neville took up their discussion again as Harry and Ron tagged along behind, Harry listening and Ron seemingly lost in his own thoughts.
"I wonder how we could measure the influence a person has over the color signature compared to the wood," Neville was saying as they walked toward the Gryffindor common room. "The books I've read didn't think there would be much contribution."
"Normally there isn't," Hermione conceded. "But you can't be completely isolated from the wood, either; part of the effect comes from the person who's stirring the solution. You just have to know that some of the color contribution can come from other than the wood itself."
They were at an intersection in the corridor and Neville stopped, about to go the other way. "I'm meeting Luna for last period so we can do some studying together. But I'm glad we had a chance to talk, Hermione!"
"I am too," she agreed, beaming at Neville. "I'm really happy to see how much you've advanced in this last year, Neville!"
Neville smiled, looking shy for a change. "You can thank Luna for that – she's been pushing me to learn more this year about as many subjects as I can. That is," he added, chuckling, "if I can get her to stop talking about that Vault long enough to get our schoolwork done."
"Is she interested in that too?" Ron chimed in.
"She's practically obsessed over it," Neville said, shaking his head but still smiling. "Sometimes I think that's the only thing we've talked about the Monday after those competitions, with her pouring over the paper for every detail she can find on it."
"D'you think she'd like to see it in person?" Ron asked shrewdly.
Neville laughed. "She's begged me go there with her! I probably should," he admitted, "rather than risk her going alone."
Harry was thinking of asking what the risk would be in her going alone when Ron spoke.
"Well, we have a friend, Jonathan Crown, who has a car that can carry a load of people," Ron said. Harry and Hermione glanced at each other in shock: Why had Ron just divulged that secret? True, it was Neville, Harry thought, but they should've cleared it with Jon first.
"I know Jon," Neville said, a pensive expression on his face. "He never mentioned anything like that to me. But I'll see if Luna would like to go next time. It's the weekend after next, isn't it?"
"Yeah," Ron said. "Could be laughs to see it all together, especially if someone manages to open it."
"Yeah," Neville said. "Well I've got to run. See you all later!" And he trotted off down the corridor.
"You probably shouldn't have invited him and Luna along without clearing it with Jon," Hermione told him sternly after Neville was out of sight.
"Why?" Ron shrugged. "There's plenty of room in his car!"
"Not the point, Ron," Harry said, frowning. "It's imposing on Jon's hospitality."
"Oh, he's not going to care," Ron said dismissively. "He's got so many people going now two more aren't going to matter." And he wouldn't be swayed from that opinion.
As it turned out, Luna did want to go see the Gringotts Mystery Vault; she mentioned how excited she was every time she saw one of them over the next week and a half before the Third Round. And, it was fine with Jon for her and Neville to travel with them, although he pointed out that it was becoming more and more of a logistical problem with a half-dozen or more people walking up to the Shrieking Shack from Hogwarts, especially with two students (Ginny and Luna) who weren't seventh-years and therefore weren't even allowed out on liberty.
But they managed. On the day of Round Three, Neville accompanied Hermione, Ron, Jon and Deirdre as they signed out of the castle to walk over to Hogsmeade while Harry went with Ginny and Luna. Rather than go out through the Gryffindor common room, however, the three of them went out of the castle under the Invisibility Cloak using the path to the greenhouses, turning off along the way to head toward the Whomping Willow and its secret passage.
Luna was fascinated with the secret passage to the Shrieking Shack under the Whomping Willow; she pointed out that it supported the idea of a conspiracy by the subversive goblin rights group Uggargligclog, which was Gobbledegook for "Hiding under Trees," according to an article by her father in the Quibbler. Harry and Ginny, following her along the passageway to the Shrieking Shack, looked at each other; Harry grinned while Ginny just shrugged.
With eight people having various conversations about the Corvette, the Vault, and who did what and with whom at school recently along with the every-increasing load of homework and study assignments in preparation for N.E.W.T.s, the trip went quickly.
Soon they were landing quietly in the car park Jon had found the last time they were there, and walking through the Leaky Cauldron on their way to Diagon Alley. Tom the barman, noticing them, didn't return Harry's wave but merely watched them pass through. Thinking he was irked at their continued tramping through the bar without stopping for a drink or even a short conversation, Harry resolved to say something to him on their way out. They would have to remember to leave a little extra time so they could get back to Hogwarts before six p.m. that evening.
In Diagon Alley, the crowd seemed even larger and more excited than during the first round. The group pushed its way along the crowded street, through throngs of window shoppers and other wizards and witches who were there to see the next set of competitors have a go at the Vault.
They finally arrived at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, crowded itself with customers before the beginning of the Third Round. Fred and George greeted them enthusiastically, especially Neville. "Good to see you again," Fred said, shaking Neville's hand.
"We always like to see the man who took care of Voldemort once and for all," George added, shaking his hand as well.
Neville looked embarrassed. "I don't talk about it much anymore," he said softly, almost in his characteristic mumble. He did look directly at George and said clearly. "I did what I had to do to protect myself, and Luna. I wish I could have saved G-Gran…" his voice trailed off, and he looked away.
Luna, who was standing beside Neville, spoke softly to him, "It's alright, if you want to talk about her, you know."
"I know," Neville said, still not looking at her or the Weasleys.
But Fred, rather than be abashed by Neville's sudden emotion, asked directly, "But do you think you've really killed him, Neville?"
"You know," George added, "When he attacked Harry all those years ago, he was hit with his own Killing Curse, which he'd tried to use on Harry. But he still came back."
"The only thing that was left of him was his hand," Neville said, almost defiantly. "Why would just a hand be left behind."
Harry could think of a reason, but said nothing. "What did you hit him with, Neville?" Fred asked.
Neville shook his head in frustration. "I don't remember!"
"It must've been quite a curse," George mused, "to leave just that bit of him behind."
"I don't remember!" Neville repeated, almost shouting.
Hermione stepped forward. "Stop it!" she spat at Fred and George. "It's enough he had to go through all that – do you have to make him live it all over again?"
"Okay, okay," Fred said, though he didn't sound very contrite. "Neville, I'm sorry if we were being hard on you. We just want to be sure, you know?"
Neville looked at them warily for several moments, then nodded. "All right. I guess it still seems incredible to some people who've known me a while that I could ever do something like that."
"Forgiven?" Fred said, extending his hand.
"Sure," Neville said, shaking both his and George's hand.
"Well," Fred said briskly. "We need to get some things in the back, and there's customers to wait on – including ones trying to nick stuff!" he said loudly, flicking his wand at a boy with his hand in a box. There was a BANG and the boy landed on his backside, looking surprised. He immediately jumped up and ran out of the store.
"And don't come back!" Fred shouted after him. In a normal voice, he continued speaking as if there'd been no interruption. "Look around, enjoy yourselves. If you have any questions, Verity'll be happy to answer them or come get us." Before he turned away, Fred caught Harry's eye and his head gave a small jerk toward the back. He and George walked toward the back.
Pretending to walk through the aisles looking at things, Harry made his way to the back of the store where Fred and George were waiting in their office. Closing the door, he said without preamble, "Neville didn't kill Voldemort."
"Agreed," George said. "The question is, who wants us to think he did?"
"Voldemort, of course!" Harry said, as if it should be obvious.
"Maybe," Fred said. "But maybe not."
"Who, then?" Harry asked, curious about what Fred was thinking.
"Could be Snape," Fred said, counting off one on his hand.
"Could be Malfoy," George said. Fred counted off another finger.
"Could even be Bellatrix Lestrange," Fred added another finger. "She's always claimed to be his most loyal follower, though, so don't think there's much weight to support that."
"That's a lot of 'could be's,'" Harry admitted. "But even if Snape or Malfoy actually did it, they might have been acting under Voldemort's orders."
"True," Fred agreed.
"So," Harry said, remembering the note he'd received from them. "What did you two want to talk to me about?"
"What d'you mean?" Fred asked, perplexed. "We thought you had questions for us."
Harry frowned, confused. "What questions?"
"About revelation spells," George said. "You sent us a post, remember?"
"I did? I don't remember doing that."
"Nevertheless," Fred said, "we have the answers even if you don't remember the questions. George?"
George pulled out a parchment shee with several spells listed on it. "We compiled a short list," he said. "Scarpin's Revelaspell is at the top, of course, just as a reference point."
"Its disadvantage," Fred said, "is that it only works on active spells and enchantments, and on the current properties of the object it's used on. So Specialis Revelio is useless if the object or person is no longer enchanted or the spell has worn off."
"Here, however," George said, pointing a bit further down the page, "we have an interesting little spell: Prior Revelio, which reveals whether a spell has ever been cast on the object, or person. And also this –" his finger moved down the page "– Preteritus Revelio, which reveals the history of spells cast on the object or person."
"I haven't seen any of these spells listed in any of the Standard Book of Spells books," Harry remarked, scanning the descriptions of the spells George had shown him.
"Not enough room, for one thing," Fred replied. Most schoolbooks only have the basics."
"And for another," George added, more seriously, "the Ministry has usually frowned on 'overeducating' students."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry asked, surprised.
"You remember how upset Cornelius Fudge got when he thought Dumbledore might be training students to help him in a bid to overthrow him at the Ministry," Fred reminded him. "You can see that sort of thing all through the recent history of the Ministry. It doesn't want students taught too well, overall. We might get ideas, you know," he finished slyly.
"That's probably why most of the formal training done after a wizard becomes fully qualified, is conducted by the Ministry itself," George added. "Like an Auror or a Healer, for example."
Ron's voice suddenly came from the front of the shop, "Oi! Harry! Where you at? Let's go get something to eat!"
Harry stood up. "I'll remember those two spells – Prior Revelio and, umm… "
"Preteritus Revelio," Fred prompted. "We've tried 'em and they work, mate. All you need to do is catch Neville when he's asleep – that shouldn't be too hard since he shares the same dormitory as you."
"Right," Harry said. "Oh, that reminds me! We found a book in the school Library a few weeks ago, about chartered accountancy –"
"Hello, that rings a bell." Fred and George were looking at each other bemusedly. "There was something about a note…"
"Yes," Harry said quickly. "There's a hidden compartment in your bedpost in your old dormitory, Fred. It was a note you wrote to yourself to get the book out of the Library –"
"Yeah, I remember that," Fred said, thinking furiously. "Every day, I remember now, I would look in that compartment and read the note. But I can't ruddy remember what was important about that book –!"
"Harry!" It was Hermione's voice now. "Where are you?!"
"Coming!" Harry yelled back. To Fred and George he said quickly, "We found the note and went and got the book. It turns out the book was created by Remus Lupin to describe how he and the other Marauders created the Marauder's Map."
Both Fred and George's mouths dropped open. Harry chuckled. "Never thought I'd see both of you speechless."
"Harry, that's excellent!" Fred said enthusiastically. "Did it describe how the Map works?"
"Yes," Harry nodded. "We figured that's how you learned how to use it."
"So you've been reading it?" George asked.
"No," Harry said, chagrinned. "I mislaid it somewhere, I can't remember where. Ron and I've practically torn our dormitory apart trying to figure out where it went."
"Check the Library," Fred said seriously. "I'm not sure but I seem to recall that's why I left the note to myself to get it from the Library every day – it kept going back there at night while we were sleeping."
Harry thumped himself in the head. "I dunno why I didn't think of that!"
"You better get going," George said. "Don't forget those spells! And don't use them on Neville unless he's asleep or unconscious, or he'll know what spells were on him as well."
Harry raced out of the office and back up front, where he found the group ready to go to lunch. They ate at another one of the small cafés near Gringotts, now all packed with customers getting their midday meal before the third round of the Tournament began.
"D'you think we'll see Malfoy here?" Ron asked Harry as they ate their hamburgers at the café.
Harry shrugged. "Probably, if his uncle's here. The way he talked about him, the Vault Tournament will be over when he has a go at the Vault."
Ron looked worried. "I've got to figure out what it is about the Vault that looks familiar to me," he said in a low voice. "I've mentioned it to Hermione but she doesn't see what I mean. There's some other magical artifact it reminds me of."
As Harry had no idea what the Vault might remind Ron of he said nothing. The group finished lunch, paid for their food and began making their way toward Gringotts where the Mystery Vault still stood outside the front doors. With the crowds even heavier than before they weren't able to get near to the podium where Bill would run the event. There was no one sitting in the chairs next to the podium.
People were beginning to notice Neville, however, and some of the crowd had come up to shake his hand and congratulate him. Neville was smiling and nodding at those offering congratulations, but didn't seem to be basking in the glow of his notoriety, as he had previously. Luna, at his side, was thanking Neville's well-wishers as well. They did make a nice couple, Harry admitted to himself, even if he couldn't see it several months ago.
Harry's musing came to an abrupt end, however, as Draco Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, suddenly appeared in front of Neville and Luna. "Look who's here," Malfoy said, sneering at them. "The 'Boy Who Survived' and his loony girlfriend."
"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Neville said coolly. "I heard you had detention with Tonks today."
"Ditched it," Malfoy said, grinning. Crabbe and Goyle chuckled nastily. "I came to see my uncle win the Vault Tournament."
"Oh yeah, you were bragging about that last week, weren't you?" Neville remembered. "I suppose we should hope he doesn't end up twisted into a pretzel or a deboned like a fish filet. But since he's your uncle," he continued, "I'll make an exception."
Malfoy eyes narrowed and he reached for his wand. Neville did so as well, and they drew at the same time. Luna and the rest of the group, Harry and Ron included, also drew and pointed their wands at Malfoy.
Crabbe and Goyle, who'd been cracking their knuckles menacingly, were caught flatfooted. They began to go for their own wands, but Jon said "Don't!" and they froze.
The crowd surrounding them had suddenly faded away, leaving the two groups exposed. Malfoy probably hadn't paid attention to who was behind Neville and Luna, Harry realized.
Malfoy recovered quickly, however. Dropping his wand-arm, he said loudly, for everyone to hear, "Now's not the time or place if you want to duel me, Longbottom. Look me up afterwards – if you don't chicken out, that is." Malfoy turned on his heel and walked away, with Crabbe and Goyle in tow. To someone who hadn't heard their entire conversation, it looked exactly like Malfoy had refused a public duel but hadn't backed down from it, leaving Neville to look like the aggressor.
Neville sagged, and Luna and Ginny both began talking to him. The crowd noise had resumed so Harry couldn't hear what they were saying. He pushed forward so he could hear. "You know what the truth is, Neville," Ginny was saying determinedly to him. "You know Malfoy is a lying git from the get-go."
"I know," Neville mumbled.
"Then start acting like it!" Ginny said fiercely. "You're acting like he's right, like you started that fight!"
"She's right, Neville," Harry said. Neville looked up at Harry, then nodded. He took a deep breath and stood up straight.
Looking gratefully at Ginny and Harry, said, "You're right, both of you. I know Malfoy's a liar and a coward. I just can't ever seem to say the right thing to him."
"As long as you can do the right thing when the time comes," Harry said, hefting his wand suggestively. The others in the group around them nodded as well.
That seemed to hearten Neville. "Right. Let's watch the Tournament," he said, now sounding much more confident. "I'm ready to watch his uncle try his best on the Vault."
"And fail miserably," Ron put in. They moved toward the ropes surrounding the Vault until they were within a few steps of them. A minute or so later Bill Weasley appeared from the front doors of Gringotts, striding onto the stand where the podium was.
"Welcome to Round Three of the Vault Tournament," Bill said, his voice again magically amplified. We hope you're ready to see some top-class spellwork here today." The crowd shouted its enthusiasm. "That's the spirit!" Bill chimed in.
"The first eight contestants have failed, so far, to open the Vault; this round we have four more contenders who will be pitting their skills against it.
"Our first wizard, hailing from Aberdeen, Scotland, is Mr. Julius Malfoy." A tall, thin figure stepped through the Gringotts doorway and strode toward the podium. Harry had never seen him before but it was obvious he was a Malfoy. Like his brother Lucius, Julius Malfoy had blond hair, worn shoulder length; he was thinner, however, and wore a pointed goatee. He had a cold, detached look, and did not seem to notice the crowd at all, even when Harry saw Draco waving at him in another section of onlookers. Walking up to the hourglass timer, he slid his token into the slot and immediately walked toward the Vault.
"He's a cool one," Jon observed quietly. "Hasn't said a word to anyone yet."
"He's certainly taking this seriously," Hermione agreed, watching Malfoy cast several spells at the Vault, seemingly without waiting for the results of each previous one. Ron was watching each of Malfoy's spells intently, as if trying to understand what each one was doing. Neville and Luna were similarly engrossed.
Is it right of me to determine if Neville had been Imperiused? Harry wondered, watching his fascinated observation of Julius Malfoy's attempt to open the Vault. Neville was not, after all, merely an object to be scanned for magic; he was a wizard, like Harry, and he had a right (no matter what the Ministry might think) to know what was going on. But it was such a tricky ethical tightrope, Harry knew; if Neville was aware of what they suspected, he might fight them to protect himself, just as Harry would fight to protect the secrets he'd held with Dumbledore.
"Fifteen minutes," Bill announced.
Ironically, it had been Draco Malfoy who'd raised this issue in Harry's mind, by challenging Neville earlier that day. How would the bullying and sneaking around Draco did, in this and previous years, be any different than what Harry would be doing by stealing upon Neville in the middle of the night to take information from him as he slept, even if Harry rationalized it as being for Neville's "own good?" Harry couldn't see a satisfactory answer.
"Five minutes," Bill announced. The crowd, which had been noisy for the last several minutes, grew quiet as Malfoy stepped in front of the Vault and cast several more spells, watching carefully the patterns of the light that formed around the Vault after each spell.
But with less than a minute left, Malfoy finally turned to Bill and shook his head slowly.
"Mr. Malfoy has declined to attempt to open the Vault," Bill announced to the crowd.
"NO!" someone in the crowd had shouted this; Harry, looking over, saw it was Draco, who was now pushing his way around trying to get to his uncle, who had turned and was walking toward Gringotts. Draco finally changed direction and tried to go under the ropes surrounding the Vault; when it repelled him, he took out his wand and, with an upward gesture, soared into the air, over the ropes and onto the platform next to his uncle, who turned to him with a startled expression on his face. He began speaking to Draco.
The crowd was clamoring about the unusual goings-on; Harry couldn't hear the conversation Draco and his uncle were having. And he desperately wanted to know why Draco thought it was important enough to act like that in public.
Suddenly he remembered – Extensible Ears! If only he'd left them in these robes! Harry fumbled in the pockets. Yes! Out of one came a flesh-colored string. Unraveling it quickly, Harry held one end near his ear and hissed "Go!" to the other end, which quickly slithered off across the ground and onto the platform toward Draco and his uncle.
"– You could've at least tried!" Draco was saying, his voice taut with emotion, to his uncle. "Mother and I were counting on you, for Father's sake!"
"I know, much more so than you do, Draco, what your father has been dealing with this past year," Julius Malfoy replied. "Your mother begged me to do this as well." Harry saw the older Malfoy give his nephew a hard look. "She has her own reasons, and her own agenda." He started to turn away, but Draco grabbed his arm.
"She wants Father freed!" Malfoy said. "She's been doing everything she can to get him freed!"
"Do you really think so, Draco?" Julius smiled coldly. "Well, I shan't disabuse you of that notion, though I daresay if she were completely honest with you, you would have quite a different opinion of her than you do now."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Draco demanded.
"Only that we all have our agendas, Nephew. Now," Julius said, producing a pair of traveling gloves. "I must be off toward home. I'll contact your mother about my attempt to open the Vault, and give her some alternatives about future possibilities."
Draco reached for him again, but Julius stepped nimbly back, and before Draco could recover he'd turned on his heel and Apparated away. Draco stared after him a moment, in shock, then cursed and ran down the steps and into the crowd, leaving Crabbe and Goyle looking around for him in confusion.
Harry pulled in the Extensible Ear and dropped it back into his pocket. Only then did he notice that everyone else in his group – Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville and Luna, and even Jon and Deirdre – were watching him with frank curiosity.
Back on the podium, Bill was attempting to regain control of the proceedings. "Everyone settle down," he said, signaling for quiet. "We'll bring out our next contestant, who – wait," he stopped himself as a paper airplane soared out of the Bank and began circling him. Catching the airplane out of the air, he unfolded it and read.
"It seems our next contestant has declined his turn," Bill said apologetically. "As has our third and fourth contestants. This means that the Third Round of the Vault Competition has completed. Unless," he added, hopefully, "A future contestant is in the audience today and would like to take his turn now? Anyone?"
After nearly a minute with no reply, Bill sighed and said, "Thank you, everyone, and have a pleasant day." He walked slowly back to the Bank's front doors as the crowd grumbled and complained about the shortness of the event.
Neither Harry nor anyone in his group had said anything while Bill was speaking. "Let's go back to Fred and George's for a minute," he said, walking in that direction. "Where we can talk."
Once there and gathered in the back, he recounted the conversation between Draco and his uncle. "I don't know what Draco's uncle could have meant by his mother's 'agenda,' " Harry finished.
"Do you think it has something to do with Voldemort?" Jon asked.
"No idea," Harry said. "But they probably wouldn't have discussed it openly if it did."
"Could the Vault have something to do with getting Malfoy's dad out of Azkaban?" Ron suggested.
"If it does, they may know something about it that we don't," Hermione said.
"But how could they, if nobody's known anything about it for 30 years?" Ron protested.
"As far as we know, Ron," Hermione pointed out. "If the Malfoy family has connections at Gringotts, they may have some idea that we don't.
"Oh, great," Ron said, exasperated. "So now you're suggesting that this Tournament is fixed!"
"No, I'm not!" Hermione objected. "If it were, Julius Malfoy might have opened it just now and that would be the end of it. I'm just trying to think why a wizard would spend almost 30 minutes casting spells on a vault only to give up his chance to open it."
"And what have you come up with?" Jon asked.
"Well, either he didn't find out enough to make the attempt, or he did and was afraid to try," Hermione ventured.
"Or, he did and he didn't want to try just then," Jon added.
Hermione looked startled, but said, "Yes, that's possible too."
Jon looked at his watch. "We can continue this discussion on the way back to school," he said. "We'll have just enough time to fly back, put the car away, and walk back to the school before six p.m."
They said goodbye to Fred and George, who gave Harry a thumbs-up; Harry, still not sure what to do, merely nodded. The group made its way along Diagon Alley to the entrance and through the Leaky Cauldron, where a few patrons watched them plaintively as they hurried through. Harry, seeing Tom watching him again, remembered that he was going to have a word with him. He walked over to the barman and said, "Sir, I'm sorry we keep coming back and forth through here and hardly stop, even for a quick word –"
Tom nodded somberly. "I understan', Harry. There's always important things to be done an' places to go." He pointed to a small table where a lone picture frame stood. "I'd jus' hoped that you could spend at least a moment payin' yer respects to her. She was a great fan o' yers, you know."
"Who?" Harry said, confused, looking over at the table. The picture standing on it was too small for him to make out at this distance.
"Why, Doris, of course," Tom said, now sounding surprised. "D'you remember all those years ago, when you firs' came through here with Hagrid? She was so proud to meet you, she must've shook yer hand about a dozen times."
Harry walked over to the table and picked up the picture. The woman smiling and waving at him was indeed the woman who'd shaken his hand so many times that day, the day Harry had learned he was a wizard. That was why her name had sounded so familiar to him when Hermione had read it in the Prophet!
"I do remember her," Harry said, putting the frame back on the table. "But why was she trying to compete in the Vault competition? That – er – didn't seem to be along the lines of her interests."
"Blessed if I know," Tom said sadly. "Some of us did think it was a bit strange of her, wantin' to do somethin' like that."
"Didn't you question her about it?" Harry pressed.
"A few o' the boys did," Tom said, walking back behind the bar and drawing a couple of pints for a customer. "They asked her what her angle was, tryin' to win somethin' some o' the best wizards in the world would be tryin' for.
"Know what she told 'em?" Tom said, breaking into a toothless grin. "Said she needed to associate with a purer class o' wizards! Boy, those rascals sure shut their traps fast when she said that!" Tom chuckled.
Harry had caught a word Tom had used, though, and said, "Thanks, Tom. I've got to get going, but I'm glad you reminded me about Doris. I'm sorry she's gone."
Tom nodded, his grin fading, and Harry hurried out of the Cauldron and up Charing Cross Road toward the side street where Jon's Corvette was parked. He jumped into the front seat next to Ron and Jon pulled out of the car park onto the side road. In quick order he turned on the Invisibility Cloak, angled the car into the air, rising above the surrounding buildings, then steered northward and accelerated to 260 m.p.h.
"Where were you when we were going back to the Corvette?" Ron asked, once they were on their way back.
"Remember the name Doris Crockford from the Second Round of the Vault Tournament?" Harry told him. Ron shrugged.
"I guess," he said vaguely.
"I met her the day I learned I was a wizard, when Hagrid brought me to Diagon Alley. She was in the Leaky Cauldron, and she kept shaking my hand."
"Okay, but so what?" Ron wanted to know.
"So Doris Crockford wasn't the kind of person who'd be trying to open the Vault of Mystery," Harry replied. "She was just an average witch who met someone she'd been hearing about for the last ten years. She didn't belong in the Vault Tournament at all."
"So why was she there?"
"I don't know, but it makes me think about another person who was somewhere she shouldn't have been – Bertha Jorkins."
"Aha," Ron said. "So you suspect, er, You-Know-Who's involved?"
"Him, or Snape or Malfoy, I'd bet," Harry said grimly. "But now that Doris is gone, I don't know how I'm going to figure out how she was involved, unless she turns up again somewhere."
They arrived in Hogsmeade with 20 minutes to spare before the six p.m. curfew for seventh-years. Jon unlocked the door to the other areas of the Shrieking Shack so Harry, Ginny and Luna could return via the secret passage to the Whomping Willow, and from there to the school.
In the passageway, Luna was talking about the exposé her father was working on concerning the Gringotts goblins and the Mystery Vault – he learned that a radical house-elf group had obtained a secret goblin document called the Vault Strategy, that described a goblinish plan to take over Britian's Wizarding economy and topple the Ministry of Magic. The house-elves, Luna said, were planning to blackmail the Ministry, according to her father, to demand more elfish rights including three days holiday per year and a retirement plan for elves over 120.
"Er, Luna," Harry said, interrupting her. She went quiet and looked at him expectantly. Not sure quite how to proceed, Harry was hesitant.
"I, er, wonder if you've … if you've noticed a change in Neville recently," Harry began.
"Well..." Luna seemed to ponder this for several seconds as they walked along. "He's been more attentive lately since I suggested we might have to break up," she said finally.
Ginny, behind them, snorted, and Luna looked back at her. "No really, he has!" she said, missing the point of Ginny's amusement. "I'm glad I suggested we break up; it's really brought us closer."
"No, Luna," Harry said, shaking his head to avoid being distracted by her comment. "I meant, over the last several months, say – since August or so."
"Oh, since the attack by Voldemort," Luna said. "Well, he's not quite as obnoxious now as he was at first."
"You thought he was obnoxious?" Ginny said, sounding surprised. "Why didn't you say something to him then?"
"Well, I thought he was being rather sincerely obnoxious," Luna explained. "A lot of boys are so shallow when they're obnoxious. But Neville really believed the stories he was telling back then."
"Are you saying you don't?" Ginny asked shrewdly.
"I was there," Luna reminded her. "So I have to believe what I remember."
"Do you think what you remember is what actually happened?" Harry asked her.
"Well, how else would I remember it?" Luna asked reasonably.
Instead of answering that Harry asked, "If there was a way to know for sure what happened, would you want to know, even if it meant you and Neville might be wrong?"
"I'd always want to know what the truth was," Luna said simply. "I think that's always more important than who's right or wrong."
They'd come to the slope up to the opening between the roots of the Whomping Willow, and Harry climbed up first, then stood over the opening with his Invisibility Cloak over himself as Luna and Ginny climbed up. As they started to walk, however, Luna said, "Harry, we don't have to hide under your Cloak to walk back into school, you know."
"That's true," Harry admitted, and seeing no one around he took the Cloak off of them and folded it up. They walked into the entrance near the greenhouses and from there to the Entrance Hall where students were arriving to sign in, including Hermione, Ron, Neville, Jon and Deirdre.
Both Neville and Luna, and Jon and Deirdre went off to the Great Hall for supper, leaving Ginny with Harry, Ron and Hermione. As they walked that way as well, Ginny asked Harry, "Why were you asking Luna about knowing the truth about what happened with Neville during Voldemort's attack?"
"I had Fred and George find some revelation spells I could use to tell if Neville's been Imperiused or not," Harry said in a low voice.
"That won't tell you whether Voldemort did it or not, Harry," Hermione pointed out. "If we could tell that we could've told which Death Eaters were forced to join him and which did it on their own."
"But knowing whether he was Imperiused or not is important too," Harry argued. "There's not many good reasons to use the Imperius Curse on anyone, is there?"
Hermione had to admit this was true. After a quick meal she excused herself to go to the Library for a while. A few minutes after she left Harry suddenly slapped the table, startling Ron.
"What's up?" he asked, finishing off the last of the bangers and mash he'd piled onto his plate earlier.
"The book!" Harry said, jumping up from the table. "It keeps trying to slip out of my head, but Fred and George also told me to check the Library for it – they told me it keeps going back there every night! I don't know why I didn't think of checking there in the first place! Come on!"
They raced up to the Library and into the Muggle Studies section. Scanning through the shelves, it took several minutes but Harry finally found the book, now back in its chartered accountancy form. Opening it, he pointed to the sign-out page. "No one's checked it out," he said, pondering. "But Jon said he checked it out when we took it last time."
"So it must erase all that information every night," Ron deduced, "when it reappears back in the Library. Impressive!"
"Let's find Hermione," Harry suggested. "She said she'd be here for a while."
They found her in the Historical section looking through old Wizarding genealogical books. "Hi," she said distractedly, pouring over pages in an old book on Hogwarts history. "I'm glad you're here, I may have something to show you in a bit."
"We have something, too," Harry said, holding out the accountancy book. "We found Lupin's book."
"Good," she said, not looking up.
Harry and Ron looked at each other. "And we found Jon and Lavender Brown snogging in the Restricted said," Ron added, winking at Harry.
"Good," she said again. Then, "What?"
"Shhhhh!" Madam Pince suddenly appeared from behind a nearby set of shelves, shushing them. "This is a library, not a public house! Keep your voices down, please!" With a disapproving glare at the three of them, she vanished again into the rows of bookshelves.
"Just checking," Ron said softly. "What are you doing?"
"Do you remember the Helm of Gryffindor?" Hermione said, going back to pouring over the book she was looking through.
Both Harry and Ron looked at her blankly.
Hermione rolled her eyes and said, "Sorry, should've known better than ask. It's supposed to be one of the lost artifacts of Godric Gryffindor, but most of the Wizarding world considers it a legend. Gryffindor was supposedly given a special goblin-made helmet, made by Agred the Artisan, for saving his clan from destruction by the Dark wizard Cranswurf Oxforn.
"Must've slipped my mind," Ron said, the corners of his mouth twitching.
"Considers it a legend," Harry repeated, seizing upon Hermione's key phrase. "Are you saying it's not?"
"The Agred story is the only reference to the artifact. Listen –" Hermione said, then began reading from the book. "'Agred's gift to Gryffindor was, like the sword the Hogwarts founder possessed, crafted of finest silver, made indestructible by goblin cunning and magic. Upon its front, the skilled goblin artisan had set an image of a lion rampant in the Gryffindor crest.'"
"So this Arrgh –"
"Agred, Ron!"
"– Okay, this Agred is a good helmet-maker," Ron said with a shrug. "So what's the point?"
"The point is, let me finish reading," Hermione said impatiently, and continued. "'Then roundabout this crest did the clever goblin set eight perfect rubies, each as red as dragon's blood and each the size of a man's thumbnail, in honor of his eight children that mighty Gryffindor had saved.'"
"So, a helmet with Gryffindor's blazon on it, and eight large rubies surrounding it," Harry mused. "No wonder it's regarded as a legend. A helmet like that would be obvious to anyone."
"Well, you'd think so, wouldn't you?" Hermione said, her voice laced with irony. "But have a look at this."
She'd picked up a large, leather-bound book lying next to her elbow and flung it open in front of them. It was a genealogical book of pureblood Wizarding families, and the family pictured on the page made Harry wince; they were about the least attractive set of people he'd ever seen.
The father in the picture was a great hulking figure of a man; he stood head and shoulders taller than the woman next to him, presumably his wife. She stood stiffly next to him – unsmiling, nearly frowning, they both barely moved even though like all Wizarding pictures they were capable of motion.
But the boy standing in front of them made Harry do a double-take. His heavy face and flat nose, and bowl haircut were unmistakable. "Crabbe!" he said loudly.
"Shhhh!" Madam Pince hissed as she reappeared, admonishing them all with a stiffly wagging finger. "Any more disturbances like that and out you all go!" Casting another furious glare at them, the Hogwarts librarian disappeared again.
"It is a Crabbe," Hermione said softly, after Pince had gone. "But not who you think, Harry. This picture was taken in the mid-1960's – this isn't Vincent Crabbe, it's his father, William, and his parents, Edward and Ambrosia."
"Pretty close resemblance," Ron remarked with a grimace, "unfortunately."
"And we are looking at this, why?" Harry asked pointedly.
"You'll see, before long," Hermione told him. "He usually goes every five or ten minutes. Ah – watch!"
Crabbe, after looking at this father and mother, ran out of the frame for a few moments then returned with a small broadsword and helmet – a helmet, Harry noted with amazement as Crabbe placed it on his own head, whose front was adorned with a lion rampant inside a burnished crest, with eight gleaming jewels surrounding it!
"I was very lucky," Hermione said, although she managed to sound a trifle smug as she said it. "I had been looking through this book for some time, and I'd just turned to this page when I got a small paper cut from the parchment. I pushed the book away roughly and Madam Pince –" she lowered her voice "— came over and admonished me for mistreating her books. Can you imagine that?" she said, sounding outraged. "Me – mistreating books!"
"It does seem far-fetched," Ron said with a chuckle.
Hermione shot him a piercing look but went on. "I was using my wand to heal the wound when I saw Crabbe walk into the frame with that helmet in his hand. For a while I didn't give it a second thought. There are a lot of heraldic crests that use a rampant lion. But none of them would be surrounded by eight perfect rubies."
"So what you're saying is," Harry said slowly, "is that the Helm of Gryffindor, thought to be a legend, actually exists – and it's being held by Death Eaters?"
"That's what I'm saying," Hermione said somberly, and she, Ron and Harry all regarded each other with concern. If this was true it meant it was very likely that Lord Voldemort had already obtained access to the Helm of Gryffindor – he would now have trophies from three of the four founders of Hogwarts.
That meant, in turn, that if Salazar Slytherin's locket and Helga Hufflepuff's cup were also used by Voldemort to hold fragments of his soul, and the first two Horcruxes were destroyed – Tom Riddle's diary and Marvolo Gaunt's ring were destroyed, that only one Horcrux remained to be discovered.