Disclaimer: I own nothing. Least of all this.
Author's Note: You guys have no idea how hard it is not to accidentally wander into the lore of this world. Because there's Just. So. Much. I could start a deep-dive on the origin of goblins, and end up eating lembas bread on Tol Erresea. I could start speculating on why the Malfoys first came to England (per last chapter) and end up in a Translyvanian forest fighting vampires. Seriously, you have no idea how close it was. That being said, there arecertain lore elements that will need to be addressed sooner or later for the sake of the plot; so I beg your pardon in advance if the explanations end up being as long-winded as a nor'wester. Thanks for all the reviews; Peace!
11) LIKE GLITTER AND GOLD
Accompanying Song: "Glitter and Gold" by Barns Courtney
"Thicnesse," Narcissa began with a shudder, "has been on the Dark Lord's payroll for some time now. My husband's body was barely cold before he had Thicnesse poking around for the Ministry documentation. Unfortunately...Thicnesse was able to provide him with a copy of the will."
Harry blinked. "...How?"
Moody grunted. "All wills are filed at the Ministry, lad. No blood for the Goblins, remember?"
"Right. Sorry; please continue."
Narcissa acquiesced. "I myself was not made aware of the full contents, but I do know that the Dark Lord immediately sent out as many spies and feelers as he could to gather any possible information on the Winchester family. He discovered that the English branch was wiped out when the Dark Lord dealt with the Men of Letters during his first rise, but that there indeed was an American branch still living. And that they would more than likely want revenge."
Damn. He needed to call Sirius; let him know the Death Eaters might be coming after Sam and Adam.
"Apparently, what the Dark Lord found was enough to scare him enough into taking an option other than eradication; at least for the moment. He wishes to…" here Narcissa pursed her lips and paused, "Meet with you. He wants no war with the Winchesters, nor the allies they now obviously have."
He was, to put it bluntly, confused as hell. "Lady Malfoy...what does this have to do with your son?"
Narcissa began shaking. "He...the Dark Lord. He knows that...that if Draco dies before I, the Manor would revert to me permanently; or until I married again. But if I die, the Manor would pass to you, as the only other available trustee. By keeping...by keeping my son…"
It came to him. "Hostage."
"Yes. By keeping Draco hostage...he ensures my own loyalty. And his own safety. When the goblins requested Ministry verification for the will...well, it was all Thicnesse and his master could have asked for."
"Because if I refused to verify my identity…"
"All the Malfoy's gold, such as it stands, would have gone back to me in trust as well." Narcissa finished. "On the other hand, if you had signed and allowed Thicnesse to walk out of here with your blood, the Dark Lord could have done as he pleased with you. And finally, if both of those options failed, it gave them the perfect opportunity to have a meeting on neutral ground."
Her terrified eyes peered up into his. "This is my one chance to save my son's life. Please...please, I beg you. Come back with me to the Manor; if I return empty-handed, or never return at all...the Dark Lord will kill him. The Dark Lord will kill my baby boy…"
He had no doubt Riddle would do it, too.
He looked back and forth from Hermione on one side, to Moody on the other. "Welp; I'm out of ideas. Suggestions?"
"Well first," Moody reached down and gently pulled Lady Malfoy to her feet. "No need for that, miss. If you're telling the truth, (which I personally doubt), we'll sort it out. Your lad'll be fine."
"But you…" here he jabbed a finger at Harry, "Are most certainly not going anywhere. The old man would have my hide if I even thought about it; not to mention the lasses."
Hermione's eyes flashed. "I quite agree. You can't go to Malfoy Manor, Dean. But...we know someone who can."
Who the…?
Crowley.
She was talking about Crowley.
Sure, maybe the demon could get back in even with the tightened security, but that was no guarantee he'd be able to get back out. Much less with a passenger. And there was no telling what Crowley might want in return. He wasn't giving up the location of the First Blade, and he only had two Horcruxes left to pay with; the snake and the diadem. And he was trying to save at least one of them for an emergency.
Although, if anything ever counted as an emergency, it was this.
"Bad idea, lad; too unpredictable. Crowley's a businessman; not a one-man army."
"That's what you think." he shot back. "But you're right about the business part. And I only know two things he'll trade for."
The choices he had were all bad in one way or another; pull a Dumbleore, and do nothing, or pull a Tom, and use proxies. Both with potentially equal and disastrous results.
His eyes wandered as his mind raced through possibilities...and then lit on the perfect solution.
"Luna."
"Yes Dean?"
His lips were parched. "What should I do?"
The blonde pondered for a moment; each and every second a hammer on Harry's nerves. At last, she turned, and looked straight through him; far, far into the future.
"...Call Crowley."
"This better be important, Winchester; I'm in the middle of cleaning up the next part of our first deal."
Next part of the first...ah. Death Eaters and their gold. "Well, kudos to you on that, but I'm afraid I've got somebody that needs rescuing within the hour."
There was a grunt from the other end of the line; probably hauling a body. "Usual payment?"
"Usual payment. I'll tell you where once the target's retrieved; I'm not in a very secure location."
"Fill me in on what you can, then."
He did so.
"...Bloody hell. Never ask for the easy stuff, do you Winchester?"
"You know me, Crowley. Take him to Ottery St. Catchpole; big castle looking place called the Rookery. We'll be there as soon as possible."
"Will do. Crowley, over and out."
The line blinked out, and Harry pocketed his mirror. "Right; now, while he's busy on that end…"
He pulled out Hermione's contract. "As you can see, I was planning on playing on equal footing, Lady Malfoy."
He handed the contract to the still red-eyed woman. "You keep my secrets, I keep yours, and we trade advice freely."
Narcissa's eyes scanned the document...and then widened. "This is a Black contract format; how did you…?"
"One of my secrets, I'm afraid. Sign, and I'll tell you after."
"...Very well. Have you a Quill?"
"Right here."
A few scratches later, and the deed was done.
"Luna, how were you planning on getting back to your house?"
"I was going to ride the Knight Bus; why?"
"Death Eaters are gonna be watching to see if I come out with Lady Malfoy. If Crowley gets to Draco before I do, they're gonna know she's betrayed them, and start cursing the minute she walks out. We'd never make it to the Knight Bus in time. And we can't Apparate or Portkey out of here; it's gonna have to be something else."
"We could Polyjuice Mrs. Malfoy into someone else." Hermione suggested.
"But who? That still leaves us with one person stuck here once the Death Eaters realize what's happened."
Moody gave a sigh. "Better be me; I've got the best chance against anyone that opens up once I leave the bank."
He shook his head. "Won't work; that'll leave one of 'you' missing an eye. Either they'll notice it gone when Lady Malfoy walks out, or you'll have to fight 'em handicapped. We're not doing that."
Hermione's brow furrowed in thought. "Could we call Crowley back and get him to transport us all out of here?"
Luna shook her head. "Wouldn't work, I'm afraid. Gringotts may not employ professional warders, but they've certainly got better security than the Malfoys have. And besides, if Crowley were to come here, I don't think the goblins would take kindly to his presence."
He frowned. "Why?"
"Oh, you'll find out later." The blonde replied.
The harsh voice of the Ragnok sliced through their conversation. "Might I make a suggestion?"
Damn.
Every last one of them had forgotten the goblins were still in the room.
"Gringotts would be willing to grant one member of this party passage through to another exit; provided, of course, that said member is you, Dean Winchester. Or should I say…" The Ragnok grinned. "Harry Potter."
"...Sonuva bitch!" He'd messed up; oh, he'd messed up bad. "How?"
"Oh, it wasn't hard. There were many small details that didn't quite add up; and as all wizards know, there is almost nothing a goblin hates more than an unbalanced equation. We allowed you to attend the will reading mostly unhindered for no other reason than to read your reaction to events during and afterwards. But what finally sealed the deal...was that little trinket you have on your finger."
Was it just him, or did the air around him suddenly get colder?
"We at Gringotts are not unaware of its meaning; nor of its origin. The Peverells were ancestors of the Potters; it is good to see the Hallows begin to congregate around the family once again."
"...It is?"
"Of course. The time has been long in coming; too long. Balance in the world must be restored. The equations must be balanced."
The Ragnok stood. "I know not why Heaven resurrected you, Dean Winchester; nor how you came to inhabit the body of the Boy-Who-Lived. But if Death and Heaven are both aligned to ensure your survival, Gringotts will not stand against them. We will, however, make certain arrangements. The legal identities of your two halves must be reconciled; if they are not, much could be lost in fees. Fees Gringotts would be forced to pay to the Ministry. Such an outcome is...less than desirable."
"...Can you do it without it being noticed?"
"Of course. Provided you deal with Pius Thicnesse. The man has long given Gringotts as much trouble as he could; eliminate him, and things will become much easier for us to operate."
The Ragnok's attention shifted to Moody. "Would I be correct in assuming it was Mr. Winchester-Potter who brought to your attention the matter of the item in the Lestrange's Vault?"
"...Aye."
"As expected. Gringotts owes you a debt then, Mr. Winchester-Potter. We hold our neutrality very seriously; to be tricked into unknowingly protecting an artifact of such value to the Death Eaters was an insult to our heritage and standing. We cannot provide you with the Lestrange's gold; it has already been confiscated in its entirety. However, we offer you safe passage through Gringotts in payment, and an audit of your finances and official documentation in return for the death of Pius Thicnesse. Do we have an accord?"
There was really only one answer he could give. "...We have an accord."
"So mote it be. Conclude your business, and Gringotts shall provide an escort."
He nodded, and reached up to yank off a strand of his hair.
"Here," he handed it to Hermione. "Get everyone to Grimmauld Place once Draco signs the contract. Death Eaters will be hitting the Rookery soon. Moody."
"Aye lad."
"No going out in a blaze of glory. Get everyone out, and get them out fast. If you get jumped during evac…"
"I know bloody well what to do, lad; I've been teaching this stuff since before you were born."
"Sorry."
He took a deep breath, and turned to the last person in the room. "So."
Narcissa smiled weakly. "Harry Potter. Merlin's beard. And Grimmauld Place; there's a name I've not heard in many years. I assume the Black name has been left to you?"
"Lock, stock, and Kreacher."
"Kreacher! Is he still alive?"
"Alive and kicking. He'll be quite happy to see you."
"I'm sure. Well;" she shook herself from her reverie. "I can safely say this is not how I thought this day would go. And for that...thank you."
"My pleasure."
Hermione held out a bubbling vial to Narcissa. "Here; Harry, she's gonna need your clothes."
"Right; de-Aging Potion?"
"Are you sure you want to change here, Harry?"
"Kind of in a hurry, 'Tonks'. And you've clearly never been to an American YMCA."
"True. Here."
He downed the Potion, then immediately began pulling off his robes and pulling out his usual getup from a Bag of Holding (minus the coat, of course. Never a good idea to put essentially multiple BOH's into another one).
Hermione gasped as he lost his shirt; right. The scars. Still, it could've been worse. He could've had to change boxers as well.
When at last he finished, he turned back to face the others. Hermione was blushing; Luna was not. Moody looked contemplative. But Narcissa...Narcissa looked downright murderous.
"Who gave you those scars?" she hissed. "Who would dare harm a Black?"
"They're dead now. It doesn't matter."
"Oh, it matters. But I am glad to hear of their passing. Did they suffer?"
Right; he kept forgetting Narcissa was Bellatrix's sister. "No. But it was messy."
"Good." And with that, she downed her own dose of Potion.
He fell into place as a shield against other eyes; Luna, Hermoine, and Moody did the same.
After what felt like an eternity… "All done."
She looked...well, she looked like him. "Can we go now?"
"Aye, lass;" Moody nodded. "You in the middle, your nieces on either side, and me in the front. Makes me the biggest target."
"Mad-Eye…"
"Trust me lad, I've got no intention of sacrificing myself. Just playing the odds."
"If you say so." His gaze locked with Hermione's. "Here's the contract for Draco, and here's the Quill. Alright everyone; good luck, aaand I'll see you all at the Rookery."
As they disappeared through the door, he turned back to the Ragnok. "One question; how come my contract didn't keep me from spilling anything after you figured it out?"
"Because you didn't. Gringotts has been dealing with contracts ever since the time of Rumpelstiltskin; once William Weasley and Fleur Delacour informed us you had one, all we had to do was couch the discussion to avoid any breaches. You will notice we put the only directly related question to your escort."
"...Well I do now."
"Hmm. QUICKFANG! CROWNSPLITTER!"
Two of the walking tanks rumbled over, their footsteps thundering menacingly.
"Escort Mister Winchester-Potter to the Knockturn Alley exit."
The two monoliths grunted. One took point on his front; the other on his back. And when the one in front began to march, he was forced along by the one behind.
Now all he could do was hope the goblins weren't planning on stabbing him in the back.
Bill and Fleur were waiting for him.
"Sorry, Harry," Bill shrugged. "Told the Ragnok what you said, and they wouldn't let us out after."
"Not your fault; wasn't smart enough. Should've known better."
Fleur took his hand. "It does not matter now. Are...are we still welcome? At...that place?"
"Any time."
They breathed sighs of relief.
"Come on;" Bill took his other hand. "We're Apparating you to the Rookery. No Knight Bus for you."
"I thought you couldn't Apparate from the Alley?"
"Diagon, no." Fleur shook her head. "Knockturn, yes; it makes things easier for those who do not wish to be seen here."
"Typical Ministry corruption. Well, let's go."
Once more he was forced to be squeezed along like the last bit of toothpaste.
"I," he gasped as he collapsed to the ground, "Hate doing that."
"Speaking as someone who's been forced to take ancient Egyptian Portkeys," Bill wheezed, "Apparating is still, just, the worst."
"Oui." Nodded Fleur. "It is most unpleasant."
He stood and dusted himself off. "Looks like it's the Floo for me from here on out, then. Right; let's go chew some bubblegum."
Bill froze. "...That was you that killed the Dementors?"
Crap. "Yes. But before you ask, I can't tell you how. And don't even think about telling the Order."
"Wouldn't dream of it. But we'll have to tell the Ragnok; goblins absolutely hate Dementors."
"What the...why?"
"Dunno. Only references I could find on 'em mentioned something about 'Amara', whoever that is."
The Mark screeched. Well, at least in his mind. Great; another piece of the puzzle. More research. "Well, Mara means 'Bitter' in Hebrew. And the 'A' prefix usually means 'of'. Other than that, I can't tell you anything."
"It's more information than I had. Thanks, Harry."
"No problem, Bill."
"Potter."
"Malfoy."
"Finally got some decent robes, I see."
"Well, you did say Twilfit and Tattings were the best. Signed?"
Draco rolled his eyes. "Naturally, Potter. Your mudblood has the OW!"
"Next one goes in your nose if you say that word again, Malfoy."
"Bloody hell, Potter!" Draco rubbed his stomach. "Or is it Winchester, now?"
"We'll call it both."
"I'm sure there's an explanation in there."
"So am I. If you play nice, you might even hear it. Where's Crowley?"
"Your seemingly impossible friend? Inside with the Loonies."
He raised his fist.
"Alright, alright, I'm sorry! No calling anybody that, either!"
"Damn straight. Bill, Fleur; get him to Grimmauld."
The three disappeared with a crack.
The Rookery's door creaked alarmingly as he went in; then again, the whole thing looked like it should've been creaking. "Crowley."
"Winchester. Interesting friends you have."
"What, you thought the Men of Letters were England's only hunters?"
"Can you blame me? Very dictatorial, those fellows. Not big on competition. Right; down to business. One Cantankerous Nott is now extremely deceased; expect another windfall shortly. The Longbottoms woke up this morning in St. Mungo's Hospital, perfectly healed. Your friend has been rescued, and I'm waiting for my dues."
"Ever been to Hogwarts?"
"Thought that place was an urban legend."
"You're one to talk."
"Touche. I assume my payment is to be found somewhere within?"
"Yep. To get in, find the village of Hogsmeade. Place called Honeydukes has a secret entrance in the back; should lead you right on through. Seventh floor corridor, pace back and forth three times asking for the Room of Lost Things. Fragment's inside, attached to a Diadem. Everything but that and the Vanishing Cabinet, feel free to sell or pawn. Oh, and while you're at it, there's another secret passage in the second-floor girl's bathroom. Say 'Open' like a snake, and it should work. Bloody big Basilisk down there, long dead. Sell it for profit if you want; I just want the teeth. Venom included."
Crowley whistled. "I'll be damned. A Basilisk. That'll fetch a pretty pound. I can even think of a few Americans who'd give their soul for something like that. Consider me as owing you a favor. As always, pleasure doing business with you, Winchester."
A gust of wind, and the demon was gone.
"Woulda thought you guys'd have something that kept him from doing that directly."
"Oh, we do." said Luna. "I just took those specific wards down this morning before we left. Which reminds me, I need to go put them back up before we leave."
"See something?"
"Always, Harry. Speaking of which, you had better call Sirius."
"Now?"
"Now."
He did so.
"Baggy!"
He winced. "Think I preferred Cub, Padfoot. Get into the bunker?"
"Did we! This place rocks! Your mother would've had a fit; modern Muggle things working around magic. And the garage!"
"Yeah, yeah, Padfoot, I know. Still want Remus to come!"
"Sure thing! Even got some rooms that'll keep his 'furry little problem' nice and contained, if he wants. Tell him we'll pick him up at the diner in town."
"Perfect. Listen, the reason I'm calling is...well, the Death Eaters found out Dean Winchester ain't a friend of theirs."
"...Cub, what did you do."
"Hey, for once, not my fault. Well, not entirely. Long story short, there might be some tossers in masks headed your way. Provided they can get through whatever travel security there is on that side of the Atlantic."
"Cub, I got through. And knowing our luck, it wouldn't matter how good security was anyway."
"True. So, yeah. Death Eaters, asking around for the Winchesters. Keep an eye out; and take theirs if they start snooping around."
"You got it Cub."
"How's things going in Sioux Falls?"
Sirius grinned. "Oh, you know; nest full of vampires here, dates with a single Deputy Sheriff there...good times."
"Glad to know at least one of us is having fun. Take care of yourself, Sirius."
"You too, Cub. And tell Nym I said hello!"
"Will do. Over and out."
He snapped the mirror shut. "Now, to find out where everyone else went…"
"CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"
He spun on the spot. "Crikey, Mad-Eye! You almost busted my eardrums! What happened? Where's everyone else?"
"Relax, lad; they're upstairs. Having a," Mad-Eye shuddered, "Ladies' chat."
"Ah. Wanna drink and pretend we don't know what those are about?"
"I would, lad, but someone's gonna have to Apparate you back to Grimmauld. And doing that drunk ain't ever a good idea."
The ex-Auror jumped about three feet in the air when Luna's voice came from behind him: "You're forgetting, Mister Moody; we can just take the Floo."
Mad-Eye slowly let his wand slide back in his holster. "...I forgot about that."
"It happens. Usually at least once. The wards are reset, Harry; and Hermione and Lady Malfoy should be coming back in right about...now."
The two women made their reappearance, both looking much like their usual selves again. For some reason, Hermione looked distinctly embarrassed, while Narcissa looked thoroughly amused. "Anything important happen?"
Hermione squeaked out "Nothing!" at the exact same time Narcissa drawled "Only time will tell."
"Alright then; keep your secrets. No skin off my nose."
"That's what you think." said Narcissa.
He opted to ignore that statement, and instead turned his attention back to Luna. "Floo powder?"
"In the carved out erumpent horn behind you."
"Erumpent horn?" he asked. "Isn't that a little bit unsafe?"
"Precisely! Not only is it the last place a thief would look for a fast exit, it's also a handy grenade. Handy; well done me."
"Nice one Luna." He gently retrieved a sample of the green powder, then tossed it in the fireplace. "Number 12 Grimmauld Place!"
And one after another, they stepped through.
"Ground rules, Malfoys; and yes, they apply to floors above the ground too. No treating the house-elves like dirt; if you're gonna insult someone, be creative about it; feel free to prank in retaliation; watch out for the curses in the library; and for Merlin's sake, try and act like everyone else in this house is just looking for an excuse. Especially you, Draco; Ginny probably still wants your hide on the wall."
"I think I can handle one Weasel." scoffed Draco.
"Fun fact Draco: Weasels have been known to eat ferrets. Something to think about."
Narcissa blinked. "...Ferret? Mister Potter, what ever are you talking about?"
"Long story; ask your son. Right! Pick any room you like that's not currently occupied; fair warning, the Weasleys are all mostly on the second floor. And the third floor's where I bunk. You can ask Dobby or Kreacher for help if you like; it's up to them if they go along with it."
POP! POP!
"Master's be callings Dobby's and Kreacher's?"
"...Why not. Dobby, if you could help the Mafloys and Luna with their rooms, I'd appreciate it." A glare from Hermione had him continue. "...And there'll be a reward in it for you."
"A reward! Oh, Master is the best Master ever!"
Dobby popped away...and promptly returned with a veritable mountain of belongings. "Dobby's be gettings' Malfoys' stuff from Mano, and Loveygood's from Rookery!"
Hermione looked at the mountain, and then back to him. "Harry. Are you telling me...that you could've asked Dobby to get Draco out instead?"
"I...guess?"
Luna shook her head. "No, Hermione; goblins hate house-elves almost as much as they do dementors and demons. Harry couldn't have called Dobby to Gringotts to explain things; not without starting a war."
Kreacher nodded. "Goblins beings very bad creatures, Second-Best Master; they's not beings knowings loyalty if its bit them on the bum."
"...Good to know. Right; Kreacher, don't worry about cooking lunch just yet. We should be back around one; plenty of time."
"Its beings...acceptable." The elf sniffed.
"Back?" Hermione asked. "Harry, where are we going?"
"Back to the Alley, of course; we've still got to meet Gin and Tonks for ice cream. And if there's still some Death Eaters watching Gringotts, I wanna conk 'em."
The brunette groaned. "Of course you do. Well, at least let me check if the others have actually left yet; and if our Hogwarts letters came."
"Good idea. I got something to tell Remus anyway. Everyone else be alright here?"
Moody nodded. "I'll keep an eye out, lad."
"Thanks Mad-Eye; you're the best."
"I'd be flattered, lad, if you hadn't already said that to a demon. And remember…"
"CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" they shouted together.
Narcissa looked from one back to the other. "...What in Merlin's name have I gotten myself into?"
"Hello Harry." The werewolf was looking much better than he had the last few times Harry had seen him. Probably more to do with the full moon than anything else. "Have you…"
"Yes, I've talked to Sirius. Good news; he's meeting you halfway."
The werewolf's eyes shone in relief. "...Where?"
"Place in America. Town called Lebanon, Kansas. Said he'll meet you at the diner in town. No funny business."
"I promise. Thank you."
"Don't thank me, Moony; I'm not big on second chances. Thank Sirius when you see him."
"I will. Oh, have you seen the Daily Prophet yet?"
A chill swept up his neck. "...No. Why?"
"Oh, apparently they had to stop the presses. Your classmate, Neville? Seems his parents miraculously woke up early this morning."
Inwardly he breathed a sigh of relief. "Moony, you had me real worried there for a moment."
"Sorry. I mean, they're still a bit out of it. As a matter of fact, they still don't remember anything from the year before they were cursed."
That...that was suspicious. "A whole year?"
The werewolf nodded. "Indeed. It seemed a bit odd to me, too; but Dumbeldore confirmed it."
Aaaaaand there it was. "Dumbledore was there?"
"Oh yes; he was the one to discover they were awake."
...Shit. Dumbledore plus missing memories could mean only one thing:
Obliviation.
Double shit.