Disclaimer: See chapter 1 (Spoiler, I own nothing in this story)
It was rare for anyone to write a letter to a goblin. Well, at least for a wizard to do so. There was plenty of mail for Gringotts Bank, or the Goblin Nation, but the individual goblin got lost in the haze and never got personalized mail. On occasion, someone would write to their vault manager, a goblin that they had known for years, but even that was rare.
One Lord Alexander Black addressed his letter to Go'Derk, the Goblin King himself. Goblin Intelligence knew that Lord Black had been warned by multiple independent sources that writing to the Goblin King directly was grounds for potential vault forfeiture. Should Go'Derk wish, he would be within his rights to take everything the Black family owned. It is why no wizard or witch had ever done so, at least in this millennium. There might have been an obscure fool who wrote to the King directly out of ignorance or hubris, but they would lay invisible in the annals of time, having lost their fortune and titles.
To the Powerful and Far Seeing Go'Derk, King of the Goblins,
Forgive me of my faults with the pen, I'm better with an axe. You once allowed me the honor of being assisted by yourself when I arrived at the reading of my father's will in England some months ago. You told me that if I ever had need of anything, I should feel free to ask. I do so now.
My family has been attack. The self-proclaimed Lord Voldemort has declared war on House Black, a war I intend to finish using the same traits I learned on the Hellmouth. I request the assistance of the Goblin Nation in my blood feud. I seek an outfit of protective clothing, more powerful than any other crafted, to protect me against assault and to mask my identity. I seek to ruin the businesses my enemies use to fund their campaign against me. I seek the utter destruction of the being known as Lord Voldemort and all those who are his followers. If you will agree to assist me, I will be in your debt.
There are other reasons I come to you, for I believe that Lord Voldemort's plans for the Magical world would place its continued existence in great jeopardy. What sources I have have revealed to me information that is disturbing in its implications. Not just for the Wizarding world or the Goblin clans, but all life. I do not pretend that taking on this noble crusade is my main motive. I seek vengeance upon those that have harmed my friends and family and to see them laid low for what they've done. Helping save the world is a bonus.
Burn them to the ground and salt their ashes.
Lord Alexander Black
Head of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black
Go'Derk smiled as he leaned back in his chair. The new Lord Black was positively the most fun and interesting wizard the Goblins had seen in a long time, even more so than young Potter. Lady Black had commissioned a similar set of armor for herself, many years ago. Though he knew she would never wear it, perhaps her son will. A few minor adjustments, and it would be perfect. They could collect the price for the armor with minimal cost to themselves, since it was pre-made and already paid for once. A hefty profit, and a cause worthy of the Great Shilraith Gutpiercer herself.
It took a few days for the Australian police to sort out the whole fiasco at Black Reef, during which time they had to interview everyone several times about that night. It coincided neatly that they finished up their investigation around the same time Arthur and Tracey were well enough to travel back to England. Xander had already paid for the Davis and Greengrass family, as well as Molly Weasley and Andromeda Tonks, to travel to Sydney where their family members were being treated. He had extended the offer to Lucius Malfoy, but he hadn't heard anything from him. Considering the attackers were death eaters, Xander wasn't sure he would make contact. Once the last of them were discharged, Tracey due to the numerous tests they wanted to perform to identify the curse on her leg, they headed straight to the airport to travel via private jet to Sunnydale and then to England. Xenophilius, alive but in a stable coma, would be transferred to St. Mungo's through alternative confidential means that was only available for medical purposes.
It was little comfort to Xander that the parents of his students were mostly understanding of the attack, or at least they were not wholey blaming him for it. Molly required viewing memories before she would calm down. Even when she brandished her wand when first arriving, nearly cursing him for Ron and Arthur's injuries, Xander didn't feel like he was being held responsible enough for his part in not providing enough safety to the group. He was responsible for them, and he failed. Willow and Buffy talked with him some, and they helped him realize it wasn't completely his fault, but he couldn't help take some responsibility for the injured.
Regardless, they would have a long plane ride together, during which Arthur continued to pester the non-magicals with questions and generally acted like a kid at Disneyland for the first time. It was good to have some normality again, which he suspected was Arthur's goal. Xander intended to use the travel time to plan for his own personal war. He included Faith and Giles in his plots, knowing those two, more than Buffy and Willow, would be better advisors as he explained what he wanted to do to the ones responsible. Together, they would figure out how to strike back.
A few minutes after takeoff, Amelia Granger made her way to the back of the plane.
"Hello, Mrs. Granger," Luna greeted. She sat alone, feet curled under her body, doodling in a plain notebook with a inkless pen. "I take it Mr. Weasley is asking questions again."
Amelia smiled at the girl before taking a seat next to her and responding. "He is. Sadly, my husband has a much higher tolerance for him than I do."
"Don't be sad. Marriage is all about complementing each other. Filling in the gaps where one has faults is what makes two people fall in love. At least, that is what my father told me." A single tear rolled down a well-worn path along her cheek.
"I suppose that is a very good way to look at it. But you want to make sure to have things in common as well. Otherwise, you won't have any foundation to work with during the difficult times" Amelia counseled.
"I think this qualifies as a difficult time. I'm sorry I couldn't help you out more." Luna apologized with a quivering smile.
"Oh, dear, you have nothing to be sorry for. Sirius explained what you did for us, explained the enchantments your mother placed on the gun. I just wish there is something we can do to help you, until your father gets better. It is the least we can do, since what you did saved our lives. Our doors are open to you or any of your friends."
"Thank you, but there is little you can do. I don't think father will recover, not fully, and as the last witch of a pureblood line, the Ministry won't allow muggles to take custody of me. I would love to visit, though. Hermione always talks about how wonderful you are, and when she does I miss my mother a little less." Luna patted Amelia's hand in gratitude.
"We would be honored to have you visit anytime you wish, Luna. Even if you just show up at our doorstep, you are welcome anytime. Now, why don't you try to get some rest. It'll be a long flight, and I have some things to discuss with the others. If I see Hermione, I'll make sure to send her back here." Amelia returned the hand pat, before leaning down and kissing Luna on the forehead. The girl had risked her life to link her magic to Amelia's sidearm. The connection between gun and girl had been broken, according to the Australian officials. Now all it was was an impressive pistol that held a far greater amount of ammunition than possible, instead of the instrument worthy of the grim reaper capable of shredding through any magical protection, spell, or barrier known to wizard or muggle alike.
Though Amelia guessed the Christmas present was more to protect Xenophilius' life than the life of herself or her husband, it didn't matter. She sought out Cordelia and began to strategize for Luna's sake.
"CRUCIO!"
Screams of pain and anguish filled the hall. Red blood spattered the walls and ceiling, drying from where the Dark Lord slaughtered some muggles brought to Nott Manor for the Death Eater's amusement. Instead of muggles, Talbot Nott lay in a puddle of his own urine and feces, throat raw from the endured torture his master was inflicting on him. He had already passed out a dozen times in the last two days, ever since word of his plan's failure reached Lord Voldemort's ears. It took three hours of pain before he heard why he was being tortured, he had been waiting to hear from his contacts about the raid when he felt the Dark Mark summoning him.
The plan was supposed to be perfect. Sneak into Black Reef, let the vampires distract the muggles and the Slayer, have the threescore newly recruited death eaters capture several of Black's friends as hostages to secure Lord Black's cooperation. Somehow, it all went wrong in a spectacular failure, since most of the vampires and recruits ended up dead or crippled, and Lady Malfoy ended up a undead's dinner. The vampires were given strict instructions to not harm any wand wielder, only the slayer and her friends were fair game. He never even got a chance to find out what went wrong before the torture began.
"Nott, Nott, Nott. You were supposed to be loyal and faithful to me. Yet, you failed in acquiring the support of the Black heir. You failed me, and I, for the life of me, cannot think of a single reason to keep you alive. That is how abysmal your failure was. I will allow you to have one hour to make yourself presentable before you will return to my presence. I suggest you find a suitable reason to convince me your life is worth keeping." The quiet whisper was worse than the snarl the Dark Lord used when torturing him. With a dismissive gesture, Lord Voldemort spun and exited the room.
He half crawled, half dragged himself out of the room, a dozen other death eaters witnessing his humiliation in stoney silence. As soon as he was clear of the door, he hoarsely called for his house elf to take him to his room. He needed to recover, and for that, he needed help. He had imperiused a few healers from St. Mungos several weeks ago and kept them in his bedroom for their various skills, both physical and mental. He'd need them to save his life, he just hoped they were still alive after not being fed while he was being tortured.
They would all be dead if he couldn't figure out what happened at the reef, and how he could turn it around to his favor. His previous victories, stalling the trial of Sirius Black and foiling Lucius from becoming the lead Death Eater, wouldn't save him now. Even if he survived the Dark Lord, he'd have to watch his back around Malfoy. His wife dead as collateral damage to his failed plan would put him in a vengeful mood. Talbot Nott put thoughts of Lucius out of his mind, he had to concentrate on surviving the next hour. As his medically trained thralls applied salves and potions to his broken body, he began to make a mental list of people he needed to talk to, and quickly.
After 14 hours, the plane finally landed in Sunnydale International Airport. Xander admired Mayor Wilkins' drive to provide the best services possible for his constituents. Even though the town didn't rate a full international airport, he had gotten it for the people. It might have been for the demons or vampires as well, but the large glass windows in the terminal made Xander think that wasn't the case. Wilkins was one odd duck, an evil soulless duck that Xander would have voted for because he was so incredibly efficient and considerate.
Xander wasn't sure if it was a Tuesday or Wednesday evening, or one of the others ending in -day. Since the attack, and the time difference, and crossing the international date line, he'd have to ask a local to know what time to set his watch. On second thought, he'd just sleep for a week and figure it out later.
Sadly, that wasn't in the cards for him. Everyone was tired and somber. There was little time to grieve for the lost, and the US government wanted to question them all because of Riley's status as a military personnel working on a secret operation. Buffy promised them it would be as quick as they could make it, but even still they would be in Sunnydale for at least two days. At least Hermione and Daphne were able to initiate a distraction for the students by asking for a day tour of the town that hosted the infamous Drundle. After a night's sleep in a well fortified and expensive hotel (courtesy of Mayor Faith, this time), they ventured out around noon.
Buffy, Faith, Willow, and Cordelia escorted the girls around, along with a dozen disguised goblin warriors, mostly to the shops and locations of the Scoobies famous battles, culminating with the Hellmouth crater itself. Xander, Sirius, and Don took the boys out to the mausoleums and crypts, introducing them to the friendly demons in town. They too were accompanied by armed goblins. In a quiet spot, while the others were distracted with kitten poker, Xander recounted to Draco the story of Jessie, and then the story of Miss Calendar. Throughout, Draco was quiet, but at the end, he nodded and they hugged in a manly fashion: quick handshake and the double back pat. Xander hoped it would help ease the pain of their shared loss, cousin and mother.
They met the girls at the remains of the high school near nightfall, still in it's exploded glory thanks to Xander's incendiary skills and Buffy's ability to be annoying. The Scoobies spent the evening at the Bronze, dancing and celebrating life after a tragedy, as was their custom. They were joined by some of the younger magic users, wanting to distract themselves. For the most part, it worked. Soon enough, though, they returned to their rooms for the night of restlessness and nightmares.
Harry experienced a surreal moment when, before all the students headed to their private rooms, Draco stopped him.
"Listen, Potter. We hate each other, nothing's going to change that. You're a right pillock, but after ... I'm sorry about your parents."
With that, Draco stalked off. It took a while for Harry to be convinced it wasn't a dream. Most likely, his nighttime visitor and companion reasoned, it was the shock of Draco's mother dying that brought the shards of sympathy out.
In the morning, everyone had interviews with someone from the military counselors / psychologists. Those under 18 were informally questioned, where an officer in civilian clothes chatted with all the kids over breakfast or in a one-on-one sessions 'off the record', as the minors prefered. They didn't go into any details of the actual attack, but stuck more to the days leading up to it, and mild probing to see if they noticed anything before the fighting broke out. The people conducting the interrogation were so subtle and good at what they did that most of the students save Daphne and Tracy didn't realize they were being interrogated. Even then, Daphne and Tracy didn't catch on to that fact until midway through their 'discussion'. There was a big book of wizarding photos, which was handed around to see if anyone recognized the faces. With the exception of a few known and incarcerated Death Eaters, including Bellatrix LeStrange, they were all strangers.
For the adults, the process was similar, but longer, more formal, less idle conversation, and in separate rooms. One-on-one was the standard. For over an hour, an investigator/interrogator had them each run through the night over and over again. Arthur had it easiest, he only had minutes of being conscious. Xander had to dance around a lot of questions, not wanting to reveal his Jedi powers, instead attributing it to his wizardly magic. The investigator only pushed it a little, and Xander could tell she thought he was hiding something, but Faith had made sure the questions stuck to Riley and his death. Xander was grateful, and everyone was done by lunch. With the investigators likely having gotten far more out of their interviews than Xander was comfortable with, they left unwillingly but knowing they had no choice. Faith being the Mayor was paying off again.
What had started as a hopeful and happy vacation weeks ago ended with sadness and regret, and after the last farewell took place, those returning to England were back on the jet and crossing the continent. On the journey, Xander wasn't the only one working on a plan of attack. A reckoning was coming as from nature itself, the might of an earthquake and the power of a tsunami, to fall upon the guilty.
Those who plotted hoped it would be enough.