Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter characters.
Chapter Twenty-four: The Culling
After an exhausting evening with Hermione, Harry found himself in a troubled sleep, plagued by dreams of his previous day's work:
Harry had spent the day in a northern region of the Ukraine. Silently he watched from a copse of scrub brush, his smoldering green eyes fixed on rubble strew cavernous maw gouged into the base of a lesser mountain of the vast steppes that stretched farther than the eye could see.
Days he'd spent tracking reports and rumors till he'd pinpointed a general location. Then, after two more days of painstaking searches, he'd finally been able to track the source of the gargoyle attacks back to this desolate location.
Given that the nearest town of recent sightings and vague attacks was some twenty miles southeast, he'd suspected a herd of aerial gargoyles in the area. Grounded gargoyles could move quickly, but not so quickly that they could cover twenty plus miles roundtrip and still return to the safety of their burrows beneath the earth before sunrise.
Aerial gargoyles could not sustain flight for long distances, but certainly twenty miles was within their range if they rested between flights,.. and found additional nourishment along the shuddered involuntarily at that. Recent research into gargoyle lore revealed a propensity for human flesh especially that of magical folk. The stronger the persons individual magical core, the greater the sustenance they provided to the foul creatures. This troubling fact alone explained why the creatures were so doggedly pursuing Harry at every avenue. They were drawn to his prodigious magical signature like flies to honey.
Another shudder of revulsion rippled through his tired form. Would that the gargoyles merely planned to feast on his flesh and bones, but no, they had other plans for him, according to his ancestor, Maleficent Crenshaw. It was she who revealed the prophecy to him, that and the warning of what it portended. His blood, the prophecy stated. His blood was to be their salvation or their undoing.
Maleficent warned him that Garanthia Goyle's time on the mortal plane was drawing to a close. Though not immortal as she'd hoped, she'd received millennia to live her accursed life and that millennia was drawing rapidly to a close, at least for her and those that had been entombed beneath the earth with her.
Their rage was all consuming and it was directed solely upon the surface dwellers, rather than justifiably on themselves as their own greed for power had led to the folly of their cursed existence.
The gargoyles envy of all those who dwelled within the light had become twisted into a jealous hatred that only the genocide of the entire surface population would ensure this end, blood was needed. Not just any blood, but the blood of the light's chosen champion. Only Harry's blood would have sufficient power to nourish a successful hatching of a new queen, and with her, a fresh brood of horrors to replace Garanthia's waning hive of subordinates.
What he planned to do now would not forestall that future confrontation, but every little bit of culling would help tip the odds slightly more in his favor. Over the next three months; Harry planned to thin the herd as much as possible and in so doing accomplish the two-fold benefit of eliminating other avenues from which the gargoyle hoard could attack from or retreat to. This prophesy could go screw itself like the last one had him. He intended to survive.
It was nearing dusk as Harry stepped out, from the brush he'd used for cover, into the dying light of the fading sun as it drifted beneath the horizon of the steppes.
His attention was focused on the overhead gap in the mountain wall. It was to be from those who dwelled within that gap that he would steal their own life force to fuel the spell of their own destruction.
He reached out with his empathic senses and seized upon a vast pool of seething hatred and feral lust for blood.
Harry fought back his initial revulsion and set his resolve upon the task at hand.
He pulled upon the life force of the gargoyles who cowered beneath the mountain's surface. Haste dispelled the need for subtly; hence his ministrations did not go unnoticed as roars of outrage and denial issued from the maw of the caverns entrance. Ignoring the mountain's enraged inhabitants; he pulled their dark energy into himself. Thereby fueling his own magical reserves and weakening his distant foes.
His soul recoiled in agony as wave after wave of nausea pelted him. His body and mind railed against the violation wrought by harvesting such hatefully alien dark energy into himself. He was a vessel of the light, the dark energy he drew in was a sulfurous poison to all that he stood for- anathema.
When he could finally stand it no longer, he severed the connection, straining against his body's need to rid itself of the pollution that now coursed through his very veins.
The waning sun fell below the horizon as Harry's called forth his sword and drew it's razor sharp blade across his forearm, freeing his now tainted blood. His blood rained down in rivulets over his blade which he carefully used to draw a chaos rune in the dirt beneath his feet.
Howls of need fueled by the scent of his falling blood, rent the darkening sky.
Hurry, Harry. He prodded himself.
He hastened his preparation, not daring to turn his eyes away from the intricate design he was painting in his own blood with the tip of his sword.
He did not need to see. He could feel them coming. His plan was working well, almost too well.
It's going to be close. He warned himself silently.
With a shriek of triumph, a hoard of mottled gray demonic creatures breeched the cavern entrance and launched themselves into the cool night air.
A last stroke of his trilling blade and the rune was complete.
Harry chanced a glance upward. Dozens of misshapen creatures were spiraling down though the stagnate air of the mountain side toward his exposed position. His blood ensnared their senses while his blade called out to them. It's phoenix song fueled their endless rage for all things of the light.
Recklessly arrogant in their bloodlust, they plunged toward him, heedless of the destruction that awaited them.
Patience Harry. He steeled his resolve, waiting to the last possible, optimal moment.
He waited until he good feel the breeze from their wildly flapping leathern wings and smelled the stench from their decaying bodies.
Harry roared defiantly and plunged him gleaming blade thru the center of the chaos rune thathe'd drawn in his own blood.
The blade pierced the stone beneath his feet with a horrific rending screech of torment, as immoveable rock gave way to cold forge iron.
The rune ignited, blazoning forth in molten fury .Harry called on the fount of dark energy he'd stolen from the descending hoard of gargoyles. He channeled that eldritch power thru his blade and into blazing chaos rune, adding to its own disruptive fury.
The gentle night breeze around him grew into a raging cyclone that buffeted the descending hoard, sending many careening into the jagged cliff walls around him. Others fled in terror toward the falsely perceived safety of their cavernous lair. They fled toward their doom.
The split in the rock surface where Harry's blade was impaled expanded outward at a frightening speed into the craggy wall of the mountain face.
An ominous rumbling overhead grew into a deafening roar as tons of rock fell from the cliffs above, pelting the last of the fleeing gargoyles that had still managed to remain airborne.
Shrieks of pain and abject terror filled the air, all but drowning out the roar of falling rock above.
Leather wings were shorn from grotesque bodies. Skulls were split, bodies crushed beneath uncounted tons of falling rock and debris.
Within the space of mere moments, the mountain floor was spattered with night black blood and gore, rocks and boulders careened wildly all around him.
Harry tore at his blade, trying desperately to wrench it free from its sheath of solid stone.
The rumblings from within the mountain grew to staggering proportions. The mountain floor shifted under his feet, knocking Harry to his knees. With a last Herculean effort he ripped his blade from the ground and 'lightning traveled' away, just as the mountain caved in upon itself.
Those within would never rise again from their rocky tomb.
Harry had made three more visits to the lower steppes over the next two months. He would have preferred spending every waking moment stalking the Ukrainian mountains, but other duties abroad had required his attention. He was still a Knight, and as such he was expected to render assistance where and when needed. Though the situation with the Gargoyles was a high priority, it would in fact be months till the final confrontation with the dread creatures and their queen, Garanthia Goyle.
Each of his forays into the Ukrainian steeps met with similar results of success, though the latter of which he'd suffered not only several deep claw wounds but a bite on his left thigh. Apparently gargoyles mouths were teeming with bacteria. Though the bite wound had been immediately treated, a rather nasty infection had developed that had him down for several days. It was time that he could ill afford. His fevered nightmares had been filled with guilty memories of the people he'd lost in past battles from mistakes he'd wrongfully thought he'd made. Voldemort had been a frequent visitor during moments of disorientation, adding to the dread over the coming confrontation.
The only consolation was that his fevered dreams were filled with memories of the magical night he'd spent with the youngest Weasley member. As perfect as that night had seemed, it was still only a dream; a fantasy, one that warred with his memories of Susan Bones and added to his own guilt over his having oblivated her,.. even if it was for her own protection.
Harry pushed away such musings from his troubled mind. What was done was done. He'd made the decision and now he must live with the consequences. Besides, there was no reason to feel guilty over the night he'd spent with Ginny. It had only been a dream, magically enhanced by the twin's cauldron. He was hardly responsible for the actions of his unconscious mind.
Harry spent his first morning out of bed, (in nearly week's time), lightly training. His muscles were tight and sorely in need of a good stretching followed by a long soak in the Manor's poolside hot tub. After a leisurely shower he enjoyed an early brunch provided by his family of elves. Dobby and the rest were ecstatic to have him home and healthy once more. Though they had been very attentive in his convalescence, it was like a cloud of doom hung over the lot, consumed by their worry over him. Now that he was up and about, they're natural exuberance had returned in spades.
Harry spent the afternoon going over reports from various concerns. The reports from Draco were encouraging. Many of the recruits had made significant strides in their weapons training. One such, though she had been a late start to the program, showed real promise according to Draco. Harry looked through the remainder of the report, but disappointingly, no specific names were mentioned.
Master Ergomen reported that the basilisk hide and another two somewhat usable shed skins he'd procured from the Chamber of Secrets, proved a sufficient quantity to provide breast plates for a total of one hundred and twenty three sets of armor. Though this was short of the numbers he'd hoped for, as nearly a hundred and fifty Unspeakables were showing promise. He'd have to see if Ergomen had any other suggestions to outfit the remaining thirty or so individuals.
The crafting of the swords was proceeding ahead of schedule and the entire order would be ready by the end of November. Ergomen had managed to scrape together enough scrape from the initial cold forging to smith a few assorted battle axes and daggers that he was adding to the order, free of charge. Odd, such generosity from a goblin?
The royalties from his last release of "Stand your Ground" had finally dried up. His tribute to Ron and Hermione had been an utter smash, but even classics lost their popularity over time. The profits from the song had filled the Knightway coffers to bursting. The charity would be able to run independently for many generations to come. With Weasleys involved, there would undoubtedly always be future generations of red headed geniuses to oversee the trust. Its continued security brought him great peace of mind.
Ron and Hermione had generously provided a charitable contribution to St. Mungos for research and development of magical maladies. The rest of their proceeds from the song had netted them modest financial security. Hopefully, Ron would, take his cue, and follow in his father's footsteps by filling his home with a new generation of ravenous Weasleys to drain every last knut of their new found wealth.
Harry picked up the last envelope waiting ominously on his desk. It was sealed with the Minister's crest. Harry broke the seal and scanned the short message that Amelia Bones had sent.
Though he was exhausted from over doing it his first day out of bed, he knew he would sleep little tonight:
Despite her assurances that she would safeguard his personal interest in her niece; the Minister had allowed for Susan to begin dating Justin Finch-Fletchy again....
Harry's mood had darkened in the weeks following the ominous message he'd received from Minister Bones. December arrived cool and brisk. The recruits now trained in full basilisk hide breast plate and wielded cold forged iron.
His desk was littered with glowing reports of their improvements. That and a vague note or two from the minister, regarding the growing relationship between an obliviatedly unaware, Susan Bones, and Justin Finch-Fletchy.
Part of him wanted to kick in Minister Bone's office door in and twist her head from her shoulders. She'd promised the Susan would have minders, ones that would not only discreetly guard her well being, but her virtue as well. It was a betrayal of his trust in the minister, and by contractual law, he could resign his position as a Knight and commission in the Unspeakables Corp. for breech od contract by the party of the second part. Part of him considered the option: Just shuck it all and live his life as he chose, prophesy be damned! His conscious would not let him embrace that course. Innocent lives hung in the balance, for a knight was prophesized to meet the coming darkness.
Though the Minister's note contained no details, he knew from past conversations with Susan that she had been intimate with Fletchy. He hardly doubted that their current relationship was a purely platonic one, at least not where Justin was concerned.
Another part of him rejoiced in Susan's good fortune. He had no misgivings that Justin would love and cherish her if given the chance. Susan was easy to love.
A few weeks later as Christmas approached ; Harry dressed in his most formal uniform, donned his cloak and apparated to the foyer of the minister's office. Despite his mixed feelings about the whole situation, he still wanted his pound of flesh over the minister's betrayal of her assurances to him. She'd promised to safe guard Susan until after the coming conflict, not surrender her virtue at the first opportunity. It was time to pay a visit and wish the esteemed Madam Bones a Happy Holiday.
Harry's boot heels clicked on the polished floor as he made his way unencumbered toward the Minister's office. Maybe it was the shock of his formal attire or the grim expression on his face that sent people scurrying out of the way of his approach. He doubted it was wholly either.
People were still awed by the whole 'Champion of the Light' crap.
He'd trade places with most of them in a heartbeat. The public's expectations upon him were both harsh and unyielding.
His expectations were relatively simple by comparison. He wanted a home filled with love and children. What he got was cold steel on his hip and a bleak future filled with an undoubtedly painful demise. He'd been a fool to risk a future with Susan, not that this new prophesy really gave him any say in the matter.
He'd vented his rage and frustration against the cold stone of his parent's grave. It had proven a futile and unsatisfying waste of time. He wanted someone living to shout at and the Minister would fit that bill nicely.
Harry entered the minister's outer office at eleven thirty in the morning.
"I wish to see the Minister." He demanded watching with some slight degree of satisfaction as Madam Bones' secretary's smile winked out of existence in response to his icy demeanor.
"She has guests in her office at the moment, Lord Knight. Perhaps, if you returned after lunch? I'm sure the Minister would be available to see you then." The girl offered uncertainly.
"Now will do." Harry growled turning from the secretary. His cape billowed out in his wake as he stepped toward the door and kicked it in with his booted heel.
"Sir?" The secretary gasped in shock.
Harry ignored her as he stepped into the Minister's private office without a backward glance.
Vaguely he registered amusement as he heard the secretary calling for security while stepped thru the ruined doorway.
The site that greeted him was not what he had envisioned.
Madam Bones' registered shock quickly dissipated to one of extreme concern as her eyes shifted meaningfully toward the guests in her office: Susan Bones and Justin Finch Fletchy.
"L-Lord Knight? My a-apologies on having postponed our meeting." She attempted to cover her alarm over the catastrophe that had just entered her office. "An unexpected personal visit from my niece detained me. She and her,.er,.. fiancé." the minister emphasized imploringly, her eyes begged Harry's understanding..
Shaking off his initial reaction to Harry's shocking entrance, Fletchy rose and proffered his hand toward Harry. "It's good to see you again Potter, er,.. I mean Lord Knight." he corrected sheepishly.
Harry blinked several times as he tried to organize his thoughts, shaking Fletchy's hand absently in the process.
"Of course you remember my lovely intended, Susan Bones?" Justin directed Harry toward Susan who stood and curtsied prettily saying, "Lord Knight."
"Er, Hi, Susan." Harry managed to gasp out. He was still reeling from his initial shock at the Minister's announcement.
Harry's eyes shifted toward the Minister's, she vaguely shook her head in silent apology.
"It's great to see you again, Harry." Susan greeted warmly extending her hand now that the formalities were over.
Harry took her hand and gasped in surprise from the contact. His empathy registered two individuals, not one!
"Y-You're pregnant?" Harry strangled out in utter shock.
Susan blushed crimson.
"It's a bit unexpected, but we couldn't be more happy." Justin came to his fiancé's defense.
Harry fought down the bile that was rising in his throat and ground out a less than honest,"Congratulations."
His eyes shifted again to the Minister's. This time she at least found the ability to meet his smoldering, accusatory gaze with a quilt ridden one of her own.
"You must be very,.. proud." Harry ground out. The touch of sarcasm in the dual meaning of his words was not lost on Madam Bones.
"Harry,.. I..." She tried to explain, but he cut her off.
His cape billowed out as he turned violently away. "Another time, Minister." He spat her title with obvious contempt as he strode out of her office, ignoring the startled looks from arriving aurors who sheepishly filed through the outer office in answer to the secretary's panicked summons.
Harry pounded his way down hallways and stairwells. His face was a mask of fury mingled with a hint of deep sorrow. Heads appeared in doorways and just as quickly vanished on seeing the frightening look on his face. Others dived into already occupied offices to avoid incurring his impending wrath. Still others turned and fled in fear. He ignored them all as he made his way to the Hall of the Unspeakables.
He would take over lessons today. Merlin help Draco if his charges weren't up to the level of performance that his reports indicated. Harry needed a good bit of a distraction to vent his frustration and his intention was to find it facing as many swordsmen as could be had in a bit of practical training experience.
The long walk to the Hall of the Unspeakable did little to cool his anger. If anything his rage was at an all time high and subsequently, his control over his magic was tenuous at best.
He proceeded directly to the training area, oblivious to stares and calls of greeting as he passed through the Hall. Harry was about to abruptly enter the training area, when, thinking better of the idea, he chose to climb the nearby stair to the observation deck. What he observed was not to his liking. Not to his liking at all.
His gaze crossed the hall and settled on the two combatants at center court. The trainees had obviously thrived under Draco's tutelage as he'd hoped they would. That was all to the good. What was not so good was the identity of the person to whom Draco was currently investing his time.
Harry watched in volcanic silence as Draco, and his hereto now unnamed protégé crossed training swords in a mock duel. Though the training swords were dulled and non- lethal, they still could provide stinging reminders and deep bruises as a result of one's mistakes.
After several minutes of careful scrutiny, he traveled back down the stairs and entered the Training Hall. All activity; save the battle raging at center court, immediately ceased as his presence became known.
A sea of black uniforms parted before him as Harry approached the two combatants, Draco, and his prize student. So enrapt were they in their training duel that neither noticed his approach, at least not until he called out in a booming voice that carried throughout the Hall:
"All Trainees will take a fifteen minute recess, immediately!"
Draco's sword faltered mid air. His opponent almost lost the grip on their own sword in stunned surprise. Harry could tell that his arrival was most unexpected. People began to file out of the hall, whispering nervously amongst themselves and casting glances of trepidation in Harry's direction.
Draco's partner turned to follow the others from the hall, but Harry's command forestalled the departure.
"Scabbard those swords and stand fast!"
The two returned their swords to the scabbard at their waist and stood with eyes at attention.
Harry paced back and forth trying vainly to rein in his emotions before addressing the two. His magic had a mind of its own and was swirling around him, dangerously seeking release. Deciding he was as in control as he could possibly be, he rounded on Draco, standing nose to nose with his former school nemesis.
"By who's leave do you train here?" He ground out angrily.
"B-By your's Knight Potter." Draco stammered his reply.
"You were provided a list of all candidates were you not?" Harry scathed.
"I was, Sir." Draco replied in a respectful tone.
"I know for a certainty that this person's name was not on that list, by whose order do you train said person?"
"By mine"
Harry whirled around, his raptor gaze settling on Commander Turner's eyes as he approached.
"I gave Sword Master Malfoy leave to train any and all potential candidates. All have shown great potential, "some" he inclined his head toward the trainee in question, have shown greater potential than others. One sword , more or less, certainly couldn't hurt." Turner shrugged indifferently.
Harry's eyes narrowed with dangerous resolve.
"If that is your opinion, Commander, than I offer you the proof of your conviction."
With blinding speed Harry drew his blade, turned the pommel over and with a reverse grip he dropped to his knee as he drove the blade down to the hilt, thru the flagstone floor of the Hall.
The first ominous peels of thunder that usually heralded the blades release, gave way to a horrific screech of steel against stone. The flagstones shuddered beneath their feet like a great beast writhing in pain.
"By Confederation decree, Section Twelve, Subsection Part B; If a Ministerial body by act or omission of act does not keep faith with the party of the first part, the Magical Knight has the option to resign his commission as a Knight forthwith without recrimination on his part. His contract shall be considered null and void. I resign my commission as a Knight of the magical realm, effective immediately."
Commander Turner stood gapping dumbly as Harry proceeded to tear open his black tunic.
"Under my own authority, I promote Draco Malfoy to the rank of Lieutenant within the Unspeakables, entitled to all honors and privileges therein. For my last official act as an officer of the Unspeakables: I to resign my commission as a commander with the Unspeakable Corp., henceforth."
Harry opened his hand and his uniform tunic fell unceremoniously to the flagstone floor.
"Y-You can't be serious?" Turner stammered out in stunned disbelief, his eyes transfixed on the sword hilt and tunic at his feet.
"Deadly serious, Commander. The Ministry has failed me in the past, more times than I care to count. Today, a new Minister, in whom I placed my hope and trust, broke faith with me. By doing so, I am within my rights to resign my Knighthood and my commission within the corp. I came to these august halls seeking solace and instead find treachery. I can stomach no more. I quit!"
"But, Harry..?" Commander Turner attempted to placate but, Harry ignored him turning to leave.
"H-Harry ,.. please?"
Harry moved so fast he blurred as he rounded on them, startling all of the three back.
The object of his wrath retreated a further step or two as Harry loomed over her predatorily.
"For months you spit out my name like it's something vile. My answer to you was my warning, but did you heed it? No. Instead you assumed the worst of me and turned on me as so many others have always done. Do you honestly believe that your offer meant nothing to me? Do you not think that I would do all in my power to honor such a request if I possibly could? You know what family means to me and your offer was just that. You offered everything that I hold most dear in my heart. How could you possibly believe that I would reject such an offer callously? "
His accusations cut her to the bone. Tears filled her stricken eyes, and dribbled down her pale cheeks.
Harry turned away dejectedly.
"History repeats itself. First Lilly Potter is betrayed and her son is abandoned. Now her son is betrayed and Lily's namesake faces abandonment. I wish you and Remus more luck than fate allowed my parents, Nymphadora, and with it my sympathies to little Lily."
Harry turned his attention back to Commander Turner. "You have your extra sword, Commander. For her child's sake, I pray it serves you well."
Harry turned his attention to a stunned Draco Malfoy, who was still pondering the turn of events that saw him commissioned scant moments before.
"Draco, I hold you blameless. You have fulfilled your obligation. Though I can no longer command it of you, I ask that you remain and guide them as best you may. They are, on the whole, worthy of your best efforts. Fare well, Draco."
Draco's eyes fell on the retreating back of his former, most hated nemesis as he whispered reverently.
"Farewell,.. Harry."
Harry strode out of the Hall of the Unspeakables.
The blade he left impaled within the Hall's flagstones strained to break free and follow its one true master.
The headstone stood in silent vigil at his feet, as she had done so often in the past on his shoulder. Hours he had stood there in this spot. Whether rainy or cold, Shadow sat beside him in quiet support the whole time whilst he paid vigil to his first familiar.
"She was my first true friend." Harry offered solemnly.
"You are my last true friend, Shadow." Harry acknowledged gratefully, stroking the great cat's head fondly.
Harry took a final gaze at the head stone that rested at the foot of a giant oak tree that bordered the forest beyond.
Hedwig
My First True Friend
"We are the last of our kind, Shadow. Though I appreciate your loyalty, our paths now part. My destiny draws near. My fate is sealed, but for you there is still hope. In the wilds of northern Mongolia there is rumored to be a small pack of Changelings. Go there my friend. Take with you my love and profound thanks with blessings for continuation. I absolve you from service as protector to the Potter line."
The changeling eyed Harry stoically, but otherwise made no move to leave his side.
"You're steadfast loyalty honors me, but my mind is set. I release you. Good bye, my friend." Harry turned away from the quiet grave site and returned to the Manor house. Shadow sat in front of the grave site purring contently.
Master Egomen stilled his hammer and cocked a gnarled ear toward the entrance to his Smithy.
RAP-RAP-RAP.
There it was again, he hadn't imagined it. Someone was at the door. At this hour it could only be another goblin. No wizard folk rose this early in the day.
His spindly old legs carried him to the front door.
"What's all this about?" he cast out irritably as he threw open the door. His aged black eyes widened in surprise at the figure before him.
"Lord Knight! You honor my shop, sir." he acknowledged with heartfelt sincerity.
"Just Harry will do, Master Ergomen. May I come in?" Harry inquired politely.
"Of course, of course." the goblin ushered Harry into the warmth of his Smithy.
"How may I be of service this fine morning?"
I have need of a sword and I fear time is of the essence."
Ergomen nodded his head knowingly. "The rest of your commission is nearly complete. If you just step this way to my back stores you may chose one of them. They are of the finest quality, just as agreed."
"You misunderstand." Harry corrected the weapon smith uncertainly. "This blade is to replace the song blade I once carried. I have need of a new blade. One that will prove true, at least for a single day." he amended vaguely.
"Surely the song blade did not fail? Do but bring me the shards and I shall cast it anew. I vow it shall put its former self to shame." the goblin reassured.
"The blade held true, but I have need of another. I disavowed my Knighthood yesterday afternoon. The song blade belongs to the confederation. I was but the custodian of the blade for a time. Do you have something that would suffice in its place?. I would prefer a magical blade, if one is to be had? Price is no object."
"But Lor, Mr. Potter," he correcteduncomfortably. "If what you say is true than it is no longer you're responsibility? You're service ended with your resignation. Let the authorities..?"
"The responsibility is still my own. Besides, I have nothing better to do and no plans for the future in any case." Harry shrugged nonchalantly.
"Then take one of the forgings and with my blessing. Surly, your former troops will not suffer the loss of a single blade?" the aged goblin offered incredulously.
"I am recently told that one blade is as good as another." Harry responded with a hint of bitterness. "I never intended those swords for any such 'troops'. They were meant for my replacements, and so they shall be. Please, sir, surly you have something, or know of someone who could provide me an adequate bit of steel?" Harry all but pleaded.
Ergomen contempleted him for a lnethy moment.
He shoulders a burden no longer his own. The wizards are all mad fools not fit to kiss the ground he stands upon, be it marble or shite!
"Return to me tomorrow, Lord Knight." Ergomen stressed the title in a tone that would brook no argument.
"You shall have a blade worthy of the hand that wields it."
"I.. thank you." Harry returned in appreciative relief.
"Tomorrow then, Sir." Ergomen bowed him from his shop.
The door was barely closed and Ergomen was hurriedly flooing Gringotts to speak directly with Raynock, the goblin leader.
"Ah, Erness , to what do I owe the pleasure?" The Gringotts president greeted warmly.
"I bring dire news and with it a request, Lord Raynock."
"Indeed?"
"Mr. Potter was just here…." Ergomen began but was interrupted.
"You mean Lord Knight Potter." Raynock corrected.
Ergomen shook his head emphatically. "No longer that, Lord Raynock. He claims to have resigned his Knighthood."
"What?… Impossible? To do so would mean his life. A Knight cannot relinquish his sword save for his own demise. Not unless...? No,.." Raynock hissed in sudden contemplation. "No, they cannot have been so foolish, so callous?" Raynock grumbled in disbelief.
"What is it, milord?" Ergomen asked in alarmed curiosity.
"He could only relinquish his blade whilst still living if he was betrayed by those that had bestowed said trust upon him. Surly his superiors could not have been so unthinkingly ignorant to let one such as he slip through their very fingers?" the Goblin leader surmised aghast at the prospect.
"I fear it is so. He seemed quite sincere in his request for another blade. Despite all, he still plans to shoulder the burden of facing the dwellers below. The man's honor is without peer, milord."
Raynock's jaws worked soundlessly in contemplation. When he finally did speak.."The sword of Griffyndor?" It was more a statement than a question.
"I-I had hoped milord?" Ergomen ventured hopefully.
"He shall have it, that and more." Raynock vowed. "Has the cold forge breast plate been fashioned?"
"It has, milord, but I have yet to polish it."
"Then bring it to it's finest sheen. Present it to him with the blessings of the goblin nation. I shall have the sword of Griffyndor delivered into your keeping by the end of business hours today. "
"Thank you, Lord Raynock." Ergomen returned reverently.
Raynock nodded and ending the floo call and immediately placed another to the British Minister's home.
"Minister Bones speaking?"
"Madam Bones, please tell me this most disturbing news that has come to my aged ears is invalid?" Raynock growled reproachfully.
Amelia Bones face paled in recognition; Not only of to whom she was speaking, but of what he was inferring.
"President Raynock." She acknowledged formally. "I assume you're referring to Harry Potter relinquishing his Knighthood?"
"I am indeed, madam" Raynock growled impatiently.
Amelia Bones' eyes lowered and she replied meekly. "It is true."
"To what great idiocy do we owe this displeasure? This folly!" Raynock howled, though he already suspected he knew the answer.
"I-I'm afraid that I am m-myself to blame." Madam Bones answered truthfully.
Raynock stared at the Minister visage with a look of utmost revulsion on his face.
"Only an act of betrayal upon his person could relinquish the Knight from his duty without consequence to his magic or his person?" It was not a question but an accusation.
"Yes." Madam Bones agreed feebly.
"Look at me, Damn You!" Raynock demanded pounding his fist on his desk in rage.
Her pained eyes lifted only slightly, such was her shame.
"Have you any idea what you have wrought? You're infinite stupidity may have doomed us all! Not to mention that you have wronged the one person that deserves your utmost respect and consideration. May I be so bold as to inquire into the nature of what could possibly be so important as to spark a betrayal that could very well plunge our world into never ending night?" Raynock sneered.
"I-It is of a... p-personal nature." Bones stuttered, defending meekly.
Raynock cocked a bushy gray eyebrow. "Madam, if he wished to shag you on your very desk in the middle of a staff meeting, I couldn't care less. In fact, I dare say you've not had so tempting an offer in the past fifty years."
Despite his obvious insult, Madam Bones could not help but blush for the first time in years at the insinuation.
"Hardly" She bristled indignantly, recovering herself. "The former knight and I had an, er,.. agreement concerning my niece. The girl has moved on,... as it were. She's getting married, expecting a child." Bones struggled to explain. Her words sounded forced and desperate, even to her own ears.
"I see." Raynock returned sourly. "He's good enough to fight your wars but not to court your kin. You disgust me woman. Henceforth, the goblin nation will no longer do business with the Magical Ministry. All of the Ministerial accounts shall be frozen immediately and shall remain so until you are replaced with someone who possesses an open mind. With someone who understands that fairness, courage and honor are more than mere words. Raynock out."
The fire winked out in Madam Bones grate. Despite the heat wafting thru her room, she could feel bitter cold remorse gripping at her heart.
Only months ago, she had been the center figure in a thriving Ministry, poised on the threshold of new and wondrous changes that would improve upon the lives of magical creatures of every kind. That was before she unthinkingly destroyed two hearts with what she had thought to be an act of merciful kindness at the time.
She had given her word to Harry Potter. Her vow that she would watch over Susan, safeguarding her virtue for his return.
Susan had been so lonely. The obliviation she had suffered by Harry's own hand and Minister Boes' request, had done more than just grant Susan a clean slate, it had left her emotionally bereft. Then Justin had re-entered the picture.
She knew Harry's heart. Knew what was expected of her by their agreement, but Susan had been so lonely, and besides, the odds were stacked against Harry surviving this battle.
By her own command, Susan's protection detail was ordered to stand down. To ignore any overtures on Justin's part.
What could be the harm? She's convinced herself. Susan would unknowingly be free of the knowledge of what they'd once shared and Justin could at least be a pleasant diversion.
If Harry survived, Amelia herself would remove Susan's memories of her time with Justin. Once Harry restored her memories of the two of them, they could at last be together, free to live the life of peace and happiness that they so richly deserved.
It had seemed a harmless kindness at the time.
Who was it that once said, 'The road to hell is paved with good intentions'. Whoever they were, they couldn't have been more right. Hell is what she had bought upon herself
Madam Bones wearily considered these details as she made her way idly down to her breakfast table. She slumped into her chair and with a growing sense of dread trepidation; she unfolded the morning edition of the Daily Prophet. Her worst fears had proven justified.
Daily Prophet Dec. 16
Potter Resigns Knighthood!
In a bizarre set of circumstances, this reporter has learned that former Magical Knight, Harry James Potter, has renounced his claim on Knighthood with the Confederation of Wizards and also resigned his commission within the Unspeakables Corp.
As Potter was under a binding magical contract for a service period of three years and with over a year remaining on his original contract, breaking such a magically binding agreement would require a breach of trust on the part of the Confederation and, or the British Magical Ministry for him to be eligible to resign without incurring the consequences set forth by his magical contract, otherwise, Potter would be faced with the loss of his magical powers and his very life. As no such loss is reported and Harry Potter is still very much alive, one can only assume that one or both of our governing agencies is at fault in this matter.
One can only wonder what could have transpired to illicit such a catastrophic separation.
For a list of Potter's previous accomplishments; see page 6.
For comments by the general public; see page 7.
For speculation on what the future holds for the Wizarding world's greatest hero; see page 8.
The road to hell, Amelia. She admonished herself. The road to hell..
The Weasley family was currently staring at the lead story of the morning paper with varying degrees of shocked disbelief on everyone's faces, all save one.
Hermione quietly waited for the coming barrage of questions. She hadn't had to wait long before everyone began a seemingly endless inquisition into the matter.
Hermione held up a hand, indicating the need for silence. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and offered, "I don't know what's happened, at least not all of it. I suspect some of what's transpired, but until I confirm it with Harry, I'd rather not hypothesize."
Seeing that another wave of dissatisfied requests for more was in the offing, she added: "I can say this much. What the Prophet says is true. Harry was in some way- betrayed. He was able to resign and yet retains his magical abilities and thank, Merlin, his life. Such a thing would not be possible unless he was treated dishonorably. I know what happened in the fallout, but what I don't know is what happened to get to that point."
"Is he alright?" Molly asked worriedly.
"I don't know." Hermione returned truthfully. "Our relationship has been strained of late. Harry doesn't confide in me as he once did. He didn't return my owl last night and when I tried to apparate to his house, I found that I couldn't remember the coordinates. I suspect he's added a Fidelus charm to the wards that protect Potter Manor. I planned to visit Remus and Dora this morning to see what there take on all this is?"
"Why would you go to the Lupin's they've had no contact with Harry for quite some time, to the best of my knowledge?" Mr. Weasley inquired.
"True, however, I have it on good authority that Dora was present yesterday when Harry resigned his post. I understand it was quite a, er.. dramatic departure."
"But Dora Lupin is an Auror? She would have no reason to...?"
"She was training with the Unspeakables yesterday, and apparently has done so in secret for some time. She was not well received by Harry when he found out."
The twins whistled in exclamation.
"Quite" Hermione agreed smirking. "As I mentioned previously, I believe this was the fallout. I suspect something happened prior that which already had Harry on edge. Dora was probably just the straw that broke the hippogriff's back. I'll no more when I see her this morning."
"Not that I have anything against Dora mind you, but, she has been just awful to Harry since he refused to guardian little Lily."
"Can't blame her for that mum, Harry was a right git about all 'o that" Ron offered incredulously.
"He was only sparing their feelings, the poor dear." Molly quipped knowingly.
The rest of her children knew better to argue the point and remained silent. Molly had an unfair advantage of being privy to much of Harry's private thoughts and emotions that made any debate with her a moot point.
An hour later found Hermione knocking quietly on the front door of Number 12 Grimauld Place.
Remus Lupin's normally rosy face was pale and drawn as he answered the door.
" I'd like a word with Dora, please, Remus." Hermione announced.
" er, Hermione, Now's not the best time really." Remus tried to discourage. "Dora's had a bit of a rough go of it last night. I take it there's some trouble at work that has her rather preoccupied?" he surmised inquisitively.
"I take it you haven't seen the morning edition of the Prophet as yet?" Hermione indicated as she brushed past his attempt to block entry.
"Hermione,.. really.." Remus tried half heartedly to waylay the persistent young woman.
Ignoring his overtures, Hermione whisked down the hall to the kitchen.
Dora was rocking Lily in her arms, cooing softly to her daughter. Dora's eyes were swollen and red rimmed.
She had been crying all night by the look of things.
"Morning, Dora." Hermione greeted smiling. Bit of a rough night?"
"A bit." Dora agreed.
Both witches watched Remus enter the kitchen and pointedly pickup the still folded morning edition of the Daily Prophet. His eyes grew suspiciously wide as he scanned the lead story.
After reading the article, he turned his troubled expression on his wife.
"Is this the trouble at work you mentioned vaguely last night?" his voice was a tad harsher and more accusatory than he would of liked, but topics concerning Harry tended to bring out the worst in him these days.
Dora nodded sheepishly and scrubbed at the corners of her eyes as she sniffled out.
"I was there when it happened." she admitted.
Remus just stared back, his face unreadable.
"You may have fueled the fire, but you didn't start the blaze, Dora." Hermione reassured her friend. With a pointed nod toward Remus , she asked. "Can I speak freely, or would you prefer a little privacy?"
"I ,for one, would like to know what's been going on?" Remus interjected incredulously.
"Might as well, the kneazle out of the bag anyway." Dora agreed.
"Why did you join the Unspeakables?" Hermione asked trying to piece together her friend's motives. Remus was caught totally off guard by her revelation, evidenced by the wide eyed stare he fixed on his tearful wife.
"You have a good solid career with the aurors, why risk that?" Hermione continued, ignoring Remus's dumbfounded expression.
"You're a one to talk?" Dora snorted." You were on the fast track at the D.O.M. I expect I joined for the same reasons as you. It's where the action is. Things were so dull with the aurors. Same cases, same problems, same budget cuts-ugh! I guess I was looking for a bit of an adventure." Dora explained.
"You knew he was there. You had to believe there was a chance the two of you would cross paths eventually. Did you think Harry would be happy to see you after everything that's happened?" Hermione berated her.
Dora immediately tried to explain. "It wasn't that. He wasn't angry toward me,.. not really. Something was bothering him, that's for sure, but he wasn't taking it out on anyone. He was ,.. I don't know, detached? Before I knew what was happening, he plunged his blade into the floor of the hall and quit. Cor! They're still trying to get his sword out of the floor. I don't think it'll come out anyway, but for Harry. They've tried everything." Dora threw up her hands in consternation
Hermione shook her head dejectedly. "What else? There's something else, isn't there, Dora. Something you're holding back?" Hermione pressed.
Dora Lupin began to cry softly, clutching her infant daughter to her, more tightly than she needed. "I tried to reach out to him. I needed, on some level, for him to understand ...that's when things got dicey. He moved so fast I could barely see him. One minute he was across the training hall, the next his nose was touching mine. He... He..." the words failed her as she began sobbing.
"He made you see things from his perspective, didn't he?" Hermione acknowledged had gotten quite good at that.
Dora nodded sobbing. "Oh, Remus,.. we've been so wrong, and so horrible to him."
Remus Lupin's face paled in the beginnings of understanding. "H-How have we been wrong, Dora?" He needed to know despite every instinct telling him to remain blessedly ignorant, just this once.
"There's been another Prophecy." Hermione whispered bluntly.