It was with a great sense of anticipation that Harry arrived at Gringotts for the second time that day. Hermione had brought them to an Indian restaurant for lunch, claiming that Harry needed his energy for the ritual. True to her word, Harry was feeling stuffed with naan and various meats as he, Hermione, and Sirius walked back through Diagon Alley to the magical bank.

Hermione was in a stormy mood. Through all of lunch, she had shrilly ranted about how Dumbledore had never once mentioned Harry's scar being a Horcrux.

'I don't believe for a minute that he knew nothing of it!' she had shrieked again and again, growing more scarlet in the face with each repetition. 'If he'd just told you…or even figured out some way to get rid of it without telling you! Fuck, it was because of him all those people died in the "old timeline"!'

'Maybe he had some sort of "grand plan" to get rid of it somehow,' Harry had thought out loud. He was not feeling particularly charitable towards Dumbledore, but he found it hard to believe that the man would have no plan at all, when everything else he did was so intricately laid out.

'A grand plan that didn't end up working out!' Hermione had pointed out. 'It's hubris, the way he thinks that the entire world runs according to his plans and his goals. He got millions of people killed because he was too proud to even consider the possibility that he could be imperfect!'

Whatever Dumbledore's plans or lack thereof were, it did not matter now, besides bolstering Harry's growing conviction of Dumbledore's untrustworthiness. Whatever Dumbledore's machinations had been in the 'old timeline', the seventh Horcrux was going to be destroyed this afternoon. The Cup and the Diadem were already gone, and Harry and Hermione had plans already laid out for the others.

Griphook was waiting for them right at the main gate and led them directly to Ragnok's office. They arrived, greeted Ragnok, and sat down to wait in silence. It felt to Harry like he was waiting for some sort of major operation at a hospital. It was not too far from what he was really here for.

A few minutes later, five goblin Curse-Breakers arrived. Ragnok spoke to the lead Curse-Breaker in Gobbledegook, complete with a lot of gesticulating and miming. Finally, Ragnok turned to Harry.

'Lord Potter, the goblins are forbidden from giving other races the exact details of this process, but I believe you should know a minimum of what's about to happen. I must demand that you keep this knowledge a secret.'

'I swear secrecy,' Harry replied immediately. 'Do you need a magical vow from me?'

Ragnok waved him off. 'There is no such need, Lord Potter. Your word as an honourable wizard is enough. Now, this process will essentially force the attached piece of soul from your body by ripping apart its bindings. The soul fragment, without its bindings, will be forced from its unnatural presence within you. Usually, this process is powered by goblin magic. Since you are a wizard, however, it is more likely that your own magic will expel the foreign soul. Once released, goblin magic will destroy the soul fragment. Of that, I cannot speak of.'

Harry nodded. 'And the process of ripping apart the bindings of the soul fragment. That's the part that'll be painful, isn't it?' he asked.

'Indeed. We will need to paint goblin Runes around the soul container,' Ragnok explained. 'Normally, the Runes will be painted around the object that contains the soul fragment. However, in your case, my Head Curse Breaker believes that we will only need to paint it around your scar. Goblin magic will activate the Runes, and they, along with your own magic, will take apart the bindings and allow us to free the trapped piece of soul. Now, Lord Potter, are you ready?'

He turned to Hermione. Her face was as pale as it was this morning when she first found out that his scar contained a piece of Riddle's soul. She was nibbling her lower lip nervously.

'Are you okay, Harry?' she breathed. Harry shrugged. He did not know the answer to that question any more than Hermione did.

'Chief Ragnok…I know this is an odd question, but…can I…touch him?' Hermione asked in a tiny voice.

'You may. That will not affect the extraction, since the magic involved will be concentrated to your scar by the painted Runes.' Ragnok said. 'Lord Potter, are you ready?'

Harry gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.

'Very well, stand over here, please.'

Harry moved to stand where Ragnok indicated: in the middle of an empty space in the middle of his office. Immediately, the five goblin Curse-Breakers surrounded him. One produced a jar of an almost-gaseous, silvery substance. Harry assumed that was some sort of magical paint that the goblins were going to use to paint their Runes.

Ragnok instructed him to kneel, and the lead Curse-Breaker lifted his hair so that two of the others could begin painting the needed Runes around his scar. The process took nearly ten minutes, at the end of which his forehead felt unnaturally warm.

'Please stand, Lord Potter.'

Harry stood. Hermione tentatively put out her hand and Harry took it. He glanced over and gave her an attempt at a reassuring smile. Her face was still chalk-white, but she returned the smile, however nervously, and lightly squeezed his hand.

The five goblins stood in a ring around Harry and began chanting in Gobbledegook. Harry felt his forehead heat up and an odd light fill his eyes from above. He assumed that it was coming from the Runes as they were being charged.

Suddenly, he began feeling a prickling in his scar, somewhat like the feeling he got when Voldemort was feeling a strong emotion, but not one strong enough to register as pain. He held on to Hermione's hand more tightly and she returned the pressure.

The chanting intensified. Harry felt the Runes heat up even more, to the point that they were beginning to burn. At the same time, the prickling in his scar intensified into a sharper pain. The bindings must be getting dismantled, Harry thought.

The goblins paused their chant and raised their right arms before beginning the chant again. Light wisps of light were extending from their long fingers to the Runes on Harry's forehead. The light from the Runes grew to become almost blinding.

Then, there was a sharp stab of pain that made Harry see stars. He winced. Hermione must have seen or felt the motion, because her grip on his hand tightened to the point of becoming almost vicelike.

The goblins stop chanting and began slowly raising their right hands. The wisps of light began rising where it contacted their fingers, but bent down towards his scar, almost like they were tugging at the piece of soul inside.

The pain crescendoed. He could not squeeze Hermione's hand any harder without cutting off blood flow to her fingers. Her right hand came to grip his forearm and held it tightly.

The wisps of light glowed brighter and began to change colour. The light-blue-coloured strands began to grow lighter and paler, so that they turned almost silver. The strands were really straining now.

Finally, a sharp, almost excruciating stab of pain, and it was all gone. Harry wanted to look up, but Ragnok gestured him to stay still. The wisps of light had turned fully golden, and the goblins began chanting again loudly. Now, the light turned red. The entire room began to heat up. Finally, there was a loud bang, a distant screaming sound, and the strands of light disappeared.

Harry bent down, panting. Hermione's hand was on his back, soothingly rubbing circles. Ragnok had been right about how tiring the procedure was. The bloated feeling the he had had since lunch was all but gone now. He even felt ready to eat a second meal.

When Harry finally caught his breath and looked up, he saw the five goblin Curse-Breakers sitting on the floor, hunched, their faces showing great fatigue.

'Is it gone, Chief Ragnok?' he posed the all-important question.

The lead Curse-Breaker said a few breathy words to Ragnok before the Chief Goblin answered. 'Yes, Lord Potter. The soul fragment was cleanly detached and successfully destroyed.'

Hermione could not hold in her emotions any longer. She threw her arms around him and squeezed him so tight that he had trouble breathing, then burst into tears on his shoulder.

Harry patted her back consolingly. Everything was okay…he had survived…the seventh Horcrux was really gone.

Hermione pulled back. Colour was rapidly returning to her countenance. Harry reached up and brushed a few tears away from her cheek.

'How do you feel, Harry?'

'Excellent,' he answered honestly. 'I feel like something foreign's gone. I feel more…more powerful. And clean. And happy, like some dark shadow's been lifted.'

'That is unsurprising, Lord Potter,' Ragnok told him. 'Soul fragments are a malign influence on the container. On non-living objects, that usually materializes in the loss of any positive magical properties the object might have had before the creation of the Horcrux. On living beings…we do not have much experience, but it appears like it impacts the host's magical abilities and mental acuity.'

Harry leaned in and kissed Hermione. 'I'm so glad it's gone. I feel like…like I'm myself. I used to always feel angry or irritable just under the surface…but that's not there anymore.'

Hermione stood on her toes and kissed him back. 'I'm so glad to have the whole you, Harry. Only you, without Riddle.'

'Stop. The sappiness is making me blush,' Harry scolded teasingly.

'I like it when you blush,' Hermione replied, ironically turning slightly pink herself.

'Let's not disgust Chief Ragnok and his clan with your public displays of affection, shall we?' Sirius called.

'I am not offended, Lord Black,' said Ragnok, sounding slightly amused. 'They are right to be relieved. The only wizarding method of disposing of living Horcruxes that I know of is death of the container.'

'D-Death?' Hermione squeaked, blanching again.

'Yes, Lady Potter. Death,' Ragnok repeated. 'Wizards only know to dispose of Horcruxes by irreversibly destroying the container. Basilisk venom, Fiendfyre, and the like. Quicker than our methods, but far more destructive. For living soul containers, the only way to destroy the container so equivalently completely is death.'

'S-So you saved H-Harry from having to get himself killed?' Hermione asked weakly.

'Yes, Lady Potter. I said so earlier.'

'Ch-Chief Ragnok. How can we r-repay you?'

Ragnok laughed. 'Lady Potter, there is no need to repay me. Consider this a service extended to a storied client.'

'Thank you, Chief Ragnok,' Harry said over Hermione's shoulder.

Ragnok bowed. 'You are most welcome, Lord Potter. I must salute your strength of will and your uncommon courtesy.'

Harry turned to the five goblin Curse-Breakers standing together by the back wall. 'Thank you for saving my life.'

The five goblins all bowed low in turn, saying things in Gobbledegook that Harry did not understand.

'Now, Lord Potter,' interjected Ragnok, 'You must be exhausted. This procedure is incredibly taxing magically. Normally, our Curse-Breakers supply all the magical power required, but since you, too, are magical, your magic helped in destroying the Horcrux's links to you as I explained earlier, which must have taken a toll on you. I suggest that you return now and rest to recover your energy.'

Ragnok got that right, Harry thought. He could barely stand without his legs wobbling or leaning on Hermione. On the other hand, mentally, he felt unexpectedly quite energetic and aware. He thought that perhaps it was a result of the removal of the Horcrux eliminating the impedance on his mental clarity.

'I think you're right, Chief Ragnok. I think…I think I'll head back now,' Harry said tiredly. 'Thank you again. May your gold heap in mountains and your enemies bow at your feet.'

Hermione and Sirius helped an exhausted Harry out of the bank. Sirius took his and Hermione's hand and turned on the spot, side-along apparting them back to Hogsmeade. There, Sirius said a quick goodbye, promising to write with news, before turning and disapparating himself.

Too tired to take advantage of the rest of the Hogsmeade weekend, Hermione helped Harry into an empty carriage and returned to the school. They made their way down to the kitchens so that Harry could grab a quick second lunch before returning to Gryffindor Tower. Once there, Harry collapsed in the armchair in front of the fireplace. Hermione cuddled into him, and before long, without even realizing it, he was asleep, his head pillowing on Hermione's soft curls.

Albus had things he needed to consider.

He knew that Sirius going free was an expected, nay, planned outcome, and he could not afford to be too upset. He would just have to work with the cards that he was dealt.

Harry being magically emancipated, removing the Trace and Albus's various tracking charms from his body, while at the same time becoming fully independent in the magical world…now, that was an unforeseen obstacle, and one whose consequences he would have to rectify.

Albus briefly wondered how he could get Harry back under his control. He popped a sherbet lemon into his mouth. Those always helped his thinking. He would have to give some sort of concession. Maybe the Prophecy. He knew that he had to reveal it sooner or later, so he could play that card right now to solidify Harry's trust in him…

He mentally took stock of what other cards he had to play. There were the Horcruxes, but he did not think Harry needed to know about them just yet. No. He needed to wait for a real, tangible threat to appear so that Harry would be motivated to follow the path that Albus had set out for him long ago. He needed to wait until Voldemort returned and the next war began in earnest, at the very earliest.

The biggest card was Harry's Scar. That was also the one card that he had to hold close to his chest at all times. If he revealed it before Harry was ready, he might run off to find other ways to destroy that piece of Voldemort's soul instead of facing his destiny at the end of Voldemort's Killing Curse. And Albus knew there were no such 'alternate methods'. But Harry would not know that, and if he was tried to look for alternatives that did not exist, Albus's secret would get out – perhaps even to Tom himself. That would not only be unacceptable, but also incredibly dangerous.

Albus suddenly had an absolutely brilliant idea – brilliant even for him, and that was saying something. He cursed himself for not thinking of it earlier. The Blood Wards! Sure, they were gone now, but it was not like Harry knew of that. He had been kept in the dark about his role as the Head of his family for so long so that Albus could get away with sending him back to Privet Drive, among other reasons. Now that Harry was emancipated, Albus would need a real reason to justify returning him to his relatives'. If Albus told him about the Blood Wards – existent or not – then he would not only be regaining Harry's trust, he would also curtail this new independent streak of his and get him back to the Dursleys for the summer, where he could once again be moulded to follow Albus's plans.

It did not matter that the Blood Wards were gone. All that mattered was Harry's faith in him and his continued presence at his relations' over the Summer Holidays. Both would prove essential to his plans.

After the New Year, Albus decided, he would summon Harry to talk to him about the Blood Wards and the 'necessity' for him to return to Privet Drive. He also needed to get Weasley back into his and Miss Granger's confidence. There was nothing wrong with Miss Granger. In fact, she could come in quite useful in the future. Albus was simply worried that she would encourage Harry to go too fast, let Harry find his stride too early, and in that way wrestle him from Albus's control once more.

Lucius Malfoy was sitting in his study in Malfoy Manor, a glass of Firewhiskey in his hand. He was studying his left forearm. The Dark Mark was growing ever more pronounced. The Dark Lord was gaining strength. Soon, he will be calling his Death Eaters back to his side.

Lucius could not wait for the day when the Dark Lord finally returned. He would take his rightful place in his inner circle. Instead of wasting his gold paying off that idiot Fudge, he would turn it to the noble cause of the Dark Lord and become his right hand in purifying the world from the influence of muggles and Mudbloods.

There were a few things on his mind besides the Dark Mark. The new bill going through the Wizengamot banning a whole list of Dark Artefacts, for one. The bill would make nearly nine-tenths of his holdings illegal and his possession of them punishable by massive fines and a stint in Azkaban. The worst thing was, nearly the entire 'Neutral' bloc was siding with the 'Light' bloc, and there was little chance of the bill being defeated in the Wizengamot. How was he supposed to profiteer off the Dark Lord's return if that thrice-damned blood-traitor Arthur Weasley could legally come knocking on his door to confiscate the most valuable objects that he had?

And it was not like he could get rid of those items. Nobody wanted anything to do with them – not even Borgin – now that the bill was less than a month away from being inevitably passed. He needed the Dark Lord to return and take over, and soon. Only then would he be able to freely sell all his Dark Artefacts and reclaim his investment. By that point, he hoped, his 'purist' faction – 'Dark', Lucius thought, was a piece of pejorative propaganda by his opponents – would have taken over the entire Wizengamot. Lights and Neutrals be damned.

Then, there was the concerning letter sent by Draco. Apparently, Potter had taken up his Head of House, and placed that Mudblood Granger under his protection…or even started dating her, it seemed. He sneered. The Potter family, polluting itself with Mudbloods for two generations in a row? Those kinds things should not be allowed to happen. And would not be allowed to happen under the Dark Lord.

But that was not what worried Lucius. It seemed that Potter was more aware of House traditions that either he or Draco expected. It had to be Black's doing, he thought. Whoever taught him the proud pure-blood ways was not important, however. The takeaway that concerned Lucius was that Potter and that Mudblood pet of his had openly threatened Draco with an honour duel to the death, while threatening him, as well, in the same sentence. Draco had scoffed at the confidence that Potter showed when he had promised to 'wipe the floor with me and you, father', as he had so eloquently paraphrased, but Lucius knew that these kinds of threats were not bluffs. If Potter and his pet Mudblood could threaten these things, Lucius had an ominous feeling that they could actually carry out what they promised to do, too.

Lucius filed that away in the back of his mind as something to tell the Dark Lord when he finally returned, that Potter had somehow grown powerful enough to openly threaten him, and that he should not take it for granted that he would be able to effortlessly defeat the boy, as weak as the boy's breeding was.

In the meantime, he would have to write a cautioning letter to Draco. An honour duel was not an empty threat. He needed to watch his mouth. As much as Lucius thought that Draco was literally second-in-line to the Ruler of the Universe, he needed to hold his tongue. If he provoked Potter and his pet Mudblood into an honour duel, then the consequences for him could be ghastly. If Potter's threats were to be believed – and as much as Lucius hated to admit it, they probably were – then things would likely not go Draco's way if it came to an honour duel. Then, Potter could extract concessions. That made Lucius shudder. Castration was a common punishment, followed by forced exile from their House. Lucius could not decide which would be worse.

'Lucius!' Narcissa called, jerking him from his thoughts.

Lucius got up and went downstairs to the dining room, where Narcissa was sitting with a letter from Gringotts. Her face was bone-white in shock.

'Yes?'

Narcissa shakily handed over the letter. Lucius snatched it and began to read.

Dear Mr Lucius Malfoy and Miss Narcissa Black,

This morning, it was brought to the attention of the goblins of Gringotts that Lucius Malfoy, current Lord Malfoy, has violated the Vow of Loyalty to the Black Family taken upon betrothal to Narcissa Black by swearing allegiance to Tom Riddle, the wizard also known as Lord Voldemort. As such, the Head of the House of Black has enforced the consequences clauses of your sworn vow.

The consequences are as follows:

The marriage between Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black is hereby dissolved.

The dowry of 3,700,000 Galleons is to be returned. This action has already been taken by the goblins of Gringotts.

The son of Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black is hereby declared illegitimate due to having been sired under a broken Marriage Vow. The son's new official legal name will now be 'Draco the Nameless'. This has already been discreetly filed with your Ministry. Acceptable shortened forms include 'Draco Nameless', 'Draco No-Name', or 'Draco'.

As consequence for breaking the Vow sworn on honour and magic, Lucius Malfoy has been dishonoured. The consequence of this is that magic itself will forbid the inheritance of the Malfoy name by any of Lucius Malfoy's offspring. This process is irreversible. Lucius Malfoy has also been stripped of his magic. This process, too, is irreversible.

In addition, the Head of the Black family has closed all Black Family Vaults to all members of the family except for himself and Andromeda Tonks, maternal first cousin of Lord Black. All attempts to access the Black Vaults by unauthorized persons will result in dire consequences, including loss of magic or loss of life.

As a result of the above occurrences, the accounts of Lucius Malfoy and the House of Malfoy currently stand at a balance -3,281,852 Galleons. Please schedule a meeting with a Gringotts representative to discuss payment options for your outstanding debt.

Yours,

Ragnok

Chief Goblin of Gringotts

Lucius gaped. As much as he hated the filthy goblins and their tyranny over wizarding gold, he knew that Gringotts communications always conveyed the truth. And this truth was earthshattering beyond words. His wife was gone. He was knutless and hopelessly in debt. His son was a bastard. He had no access to the Black Vaults to continue paying his hefty bribes.

And worst of all, he was a squib. He lifted his wand and said 'Lumos', but the wand tip did not light. It really had happened.

'What're we going to do?' he asked Narcissa.

'There's absolutely nothing you can do,' Narcissa replied shortly. 'You can read, Lucius. When Sirius called in the consequences on you, you lost your magic and your right to pass on your family name. The process can't be reversed.'

'But he can't have!' Lucius spat, 'He's a blood-traitor! He can't be the Head of the Blacks!'

'Yes he can, you fool,' Narcissa said angrily. 'Orion Black was the last Head of the Black Family. The Black Family does not allow true disowning of scions, whatever Walburga might have thought in her dementia-addled mind. Sirius became the Head of the Blacks after Orion's death, whether you like it or not.'

'We'll have to get rid of Sirius Black, then.'

'You idiot! With what magic are you going to kill him with? And then what happens? You go to Azkaban. Your precious Dark Lord isn't going to break out a squib who is of absolutely no use to him. No gold, no magic, no worth! He'd just kill you for not going to Azkaban for him in the first place! And besides, the Blacks are patriarchal. You get rid of Sirius and the family name dies with him, and you're still a knutless squib!'

'Is it supposed to be my fault that that filthy blood-traitor Black stripped me of my magic and left us broke?' Lucius roared, furious. He could not believe his ears. His wife was contradicting him – essentially betraying him – when he most needed her support.

'Yes, it is!' Narcissa snapped. 'I told you not to take the Dark Mark. I told you not to swear allegiance to the Dark Lord. I told you more times than I could remember. I foresaw this could happen. Orion dies, Sirius takes over, you become a broke squib. All of it! I even warned you, multiple times! But no, you won't dig your head out of your arse and contemplate the risks before you jumped headfirst into something way beyond your understanding and control!'

Lucius was incredulous. 'You're going to leave me, then?'

'Unless you give me a good reason not to, then yes, I'm leaving you, you fool!' Narcissa cried. 'I'm not going to slave away in the depths of Gringotts, repaying the debts that you incurred because of your lunacy! I'm not going to be thrown out onto the street on my arse because you're knutless and can't even feed yourself! I'm not going to deal with the disgrace that's no doubt going to come when you do something stupid on top of all this and land yourself in Azkaban, or perhaps even a muggle prison!'

'We won't be knutless! We can sell the manor!'

Narcissa was fully shouting now. 'Have you no memory? You do the taxes every bloody year and you don't know how much this manor is worth? Just over one-and-a-half million Galleons, you absolute pillock! Where're you going to get the other one-and-a-half million from? You have zero skills outside of sitting, eating, and bribing a worthless Minister! Who'd hire you? Your pathetic Dark Artefacts are worthless! Nobody wants to buy them when they're a month away from being confiscated and liquidated! I told you not to buy them, but just like every other time I told you not to do something, you didn't listen, and look where you are now!'

'So yes, I'm leaving. I'm going to Sirius and Andie. I'll beg for forgiveness on my knees if I have to, when the alternative is being forced to live off rubbish pickings with a wanker like you!'

'You're going to join the blood-traitors?' Lucius yelled.

'And so?' Narcissa challenged. 'You go on about "killing the muggles" and "getting rid of the Mudbloods" every other fucking hour! And look where it landed you! This whole load of bollocks means nothing! Nothing, when the result is that you're a squib who's in debt for the rest of your life! I'd chose to marry a Mud…muggle-born like my dear sister Andie over going to shovel dragon shite because of your stupidity any day!'

'Bellatrix and Rodolphus can support you!' Lucius pointed out angrily. He could not believe it. His wife was going to turn into a Mudblood-lover. He had to stop it.

'Sirius isn't barmy like you! If he's cast you out of the family, you can bet Rodolphus got the same treatment! And hell would freeze over before Sirius lets Bellatrix access any of the family money, and you know that!'

Lucius was on his last legs. 'What about Draco?'

'Draco the Nameless? Well, he's always worshipped you, hasn't he? Just as foolish and idiotic like you. Why don't you allow him the chance to share in your glory for once?'

'You're abandoning your son?'

'No, I'm not. I will write to him. If he wants to change his ways and make amends with the rest of the family, I'm sure Sirius and Andie would be happy to welcome him. But somehow, I don't see that happening. Always "my father" this "my father" that. Whatever I do, I could never make him see sense, never teach him to hold his tongue, never stop him from making an absolute fool of himself. He doesn't even think I'm worth his time to be around, just someone who exists to send him cakes at school! What's this honour duel I heard about with Potter, huh? Him, a mediocre wizard at best, trying to take on Potter, who cursed a bloody dragon to death? Stupid fool, just like you. Maybe some hard work digging new vaults in Gringotts is exactly what he needs. At least it'll keep him out of Azkaban!'

'Enjoy the goblins' hospitality, Lucius,' Narcissa snapped, showing him the 'V' before storming out of the house, Lucius gaping slack-jawed behind her.

A/N: So, Narcissa chooses to be pragmatic and re-evaluate her allegiances before it's too late. Lucius acts like any true Malfoy and charges ahead, spouting off his beliefs regardless of reality and acting without thinking.

Thank you to dolmanbalck and maschl for pointing out that Harry's excessive wealth could create issues in the story. (maschl, if you are reading this, I am a huge fan of your story Too Many Champions and I am truly honoured that you took the time to give me feedback.) As a result, the 'Harry is a billionaire' trope introduced in the previous chapter has been toned down a little – or a lot – to more realistic levels. I recognize that there may be issues with other parts of Chapter 9 (squibbing Lucius/Rodolphus), but they will remain as-is, because they have a role in developing an important minor plotline in this story. I know the goblin scenes were a little clumsy, but I hope that by getting this setup out of the way, I can focus on developing the interpersonal drama instead.

The story is currently around 5-7 chapters away from completion. In celebration of this, I'll be giving you a bonus Chapter 11 this weekend.