AN: Updated and betad
Disclaimer: Do what you want because a pirate is free, YOU ARE A PIRATE! (Just don't make money off fan-fiction.
Gornuk, Amelia and Dumbledore sat tensely around the table in a private room of the Leaky Cauldron. "So," said Dumbledore, looking stern. "We all agree the assassins were a mistake." He glance around the table, seeming to focus on the shame and anger on Gornuk's face.
"You've made your point," replied Gornuk testily. Dumbledore was deliberately goading him, he knew it. Well, to be fair to the old man, he wouldn'thave considered it goading. He probably would have thought of it as 'admonishing' or 'discipling'. This was why you should never allow someone to be a teacher and a politician at the same time Gornuk thought angrily.
"What I want to know is when you were planning on telling us about the horcrux in Harry's scar." Gornuk winceed all as soon as the words left his mouth. He probably should have been more tactful, but his temper was short and they'd all overindulged in the fire-whisky.
"I had a theory, but can you imagine if I'd said something and it got out? Can you imagine how the community would have treated Harry?" Dumbledore ran his hand through his hair, clearly stressed. "We'd be lucky if they didn't put him under lock and key, or accidentally kill him. And what if I was wrong? What then?" Dumbledore turned to Gornuk, fixing him with a fierce stare. "Are you sure?" said the old man. "We don't need another mistake on our hands."
"Positive." Gornuk sneered slightly. "My friends in Arkham even think there is probably more than one, but weren't positive on the exact number. Why didn't you mention this to us anyway? Have we shown any sign we wish anything but the best for the boy?"
"Yes Albus," said Amelia, her anger obvious. "Why didn't you? We could have launched efforts to confirm whether it was fact and gone after the others."
Dumbledore shifted uncomfortably. "I was uncertain of the facts and didn't feel you'd appreciate unsubstantiated theories. Even if-"
"Ha! If-"
"Enough!" Amelia glared at the pair, though Dumbledore bore the brunt of it. Gornuk gave her an apologetic look. He knew he'd nearly letthe meeting descend into a shouting match. "Why don't we focus on the matter at hand, which I personally feel is how are we going to find these horcruxes and when should we start?"
Amelia had been fuming about this ever since Gornuk had told her. He was actually a little glad, because otherwise her anger would have been focused on his uncontrollable hired guns. Gurnok had no shame in admitting to finding Amelia very intimidating.
Dumbledore smiled, a little superiority sliding back onto his face. "I think I might have an idea on how to find them, though I feel moving on them while Quirrell is still at large would be a bad idea. We should probably wait until we've been able to pin all the crimes on Quirrell before attempting anything."
Amelia nodded. "Moody's still searching for evidence to twist. It'll be a while, probably enough to locate them. I think your friends said there were at least two aside from Harry's scar, is that correct Willan?"
He nodded slightly. "Howard theorised it was the most likely number. He wondered about a total of seven, but it proved unlikely when he ran the arithmancy. Seven pieces including the central piece is apparently magically powerful, but far too unstable for the user's mental health." Gornuk could see the others mulling over that part.
"So, shall we assume that there are six horcruxes plus the accidental one in Harry, just in case?" asked Amelia, groaning as Dumbledore nodded in agreement. "Oh hell."
HPHPHP
Harry stepped through the door of his basement house, glad to be back home after the long train trip. This place had sort of become Harry's castle, with all its quietness and blessed privacy. He quickly dropped the bags on the floor and moved to help Lupin, finding he'd already stepped inside, easily lifting the trunk.
"You do realise this thing has lightening charms, don't you Harry?" Lupin said, grinning. "The little button by the handle?" Harry hadn't actually, since he'd never bothered with the manual. He scowled as he lifted his bags and followed Lupin. "So which is your room Harry?" called Lupin, glancing around in curiosity, since things had been moved around in their absence.
"First bedroom you come to." It was one of the smaller rooms, since Harry had found the larger rooms slightly unnerving. It probably had something to do with sleeping in a cupboard for so much of his life.
"Okay," Remus said, planting the trunk at the end of his bed. "Will you be alright on your own Harry? Its just that Tonks couldn't come in today since she has a test and I don't want to leave the store untended."
"Yeah," replied Harry nodding. "There is something I've been wanting to try out down here anyway."
Remus looked at Harry oddly. "Nothing dangerous I hope? You look like your mother just before the first time she blew up the potion's class room trying to make Felix Sorte."
Harry laughed, remembering that story, which forced him to wait a moment before he answered. "Not very. Honestly, I'll be fine."
Remus didn't look the least bit convinced. "Call if you need me."
"Don't worry, I will," laughed Harry. "Later Remus."
"Yes, well later Harry." The werewolf reluctantly walked out the door, closing it behind him.
Harry headed down the corridor a little way to the hidden door he could feel humming behind a china cabinet. When Gurnok and Harry had last tried the door they'd been focusing on the cabinet itself. It would be fairly accurate to say they'd rapidly found themselves going nowhere fast. Then during the written part of his charm exams, while reading a question about linking different objects he'd suddenly realised the solution wasn't in the cabinet itself.
The carvings they'd been so focused on were clues, not keys. The keys were the china cups he'd seen spread around the house. Harry moved around the house, collecting them in the order they appeared on the cabinet. Island, Swan, Kite, City, Mosquito, Eye, Squirrel, Fly, Bee, Princess. It was a charm lock, designed around a Russian fairytale. To unlock the door you had to know the story, find the cups and place them back in the cabinet in the correct order. It wouldn't work without knowledge of the story, which Harry thought was very clever since Russian muggle fairy-tales were about as obscure as you could get for a wizard, let alone another goblin.
The door slid aside as the last cup slid into place, revealing a small room, much like the rest of the house except for one thing; every wall was covered in pictures of goblins, sometimes in family groups and sometimes as lone portraits. The eyes of every goblin in the room swung around, looking at Harry in surprise.
"Um, hello," said Harry, not expecting anything like this. "Sorry to disturb you."
"A human Griphook?" asked a particularly old portrait close to the back. "Am I right? You shouldn't have been able to open the door without being a Griphook, you know. How did you come to be part of the family?"
Harry hadn't thought of that. "Yes, suppose I am," he said nervously. "I don't know why though. The other goblins would only told me it was a repayment."
The portraits muttered darkly amongst themselves, looking worried and the speaker slid through other portraits to get a better look at Harry. "Why are you her,e boy?"he asked, squinting at Harry.
"Curiosity sir," he replied uncertainly. "If you don't mind me asking, what is this room?" Harry gulped nervously. It was one thing to stared at by crowds of strange wizards, but goblins were another matter entirely.
"The memorial," replied the goblin who Harry now could see was dressed in Elizabethan style, wearing plate-mail. This might actually be Monall Griphook, who was mentioned in one of Harry's history texts and the only military man in the family. "The most recent Griphook ,who I'm assuming is dead considering your presence, moved us all here in 1979 when the rest of the family was destroyed."
"Destroyed?" said Harry alarmed.
"Caught in a crossfire between Aurors and Death Eaters I believe," replied the goblin. "Poor fool never really recovered from it. Became obsessed with revenge on a Mr Alastor Moody and Lucius Malfoy I believe. Kept sending Moody poisoned pens. I don't really think he was trying that hard. But Lucius Malfoy..."
"What about Potter?" Harry asked on a hunch.
"Potter..." The Goblin sat for a moment, thinking. "Oh yes, I believe he was one of the aurors. My descendant," the Goblin spat the word with contempt, "was funnelling money away from their accounts. Extremely petty. Now I have no problem going after active participants, but virtual bystanders," the goblin snorted angrily, "well its embarrassing."
"So... you were originally spread around the house?" said Harry, reeling a little from the information and wanting to change the conversation fast. He was sick and tired of tales of death.
"Of course," piped up a smaller woman close to the doorway.
"Would you like to go back?" asked Harry, trying to polite.
Positive sounds spread through the room and the soldier nodded in approval. "What's your name boy?" he asked, a look of keen interest on his face.
"Harry Potter-Griphhook sir." A ripple of whispering spread through the room as the goblin's discussed this new information. After a few moments, they seemed to reach some sort of agreement.
The soldier looked at him carefully. "Very well, Mr Potter-Griphhok. Welcome to the family. How's your Gobbledegook?"
