Hi everyone! Welcome back.

Thanks as usual for the lovely reviews. I would like to address one guest reviews for a very early chapter (wish you had an account so I could actually respond to you since you asked questions and won't see the answer until you reach this chapter). You expressed skepticism that a sexual assault would occurred on a crowded train. My advice for you if you are a woman...never ride on a crowded subway train in some parts of the world. Sexual assault and molestation in pubic trains is common and oftentimes ignored by bystanders. There's a reason Japan now has women only cars on some trains.

And the scene with Lily being attacked was actually inspired by an incident that happened in my high school; a girl was sexually assaulted in our computer lab, in a classroom full of students and a teacher and went unnoticed. The boys dragged her out of her seat and pulled her behind a desk and she was too scared to scream and literally not a single person noticed and those that did kept quiet. So no, being in a crowded place does not make being assaulted more unlikely. At least not in my experiences

This was not intended to be mean or chiding by the way. I appreciate you asking questions and sharing your views, but I just felt that's a risky way of thinking, if by chance you are a woman. Crowded places do not decrease the chance of rape. Far too often assault happens right under our noses and people are either too blind to notice or deliberately ignore it.

sorry for the heavy stuff folks. On with the story.

If Someone Cared Enough

Chapter 127: Quips at Quidditch

Severus pulled his scarf up over the lower half of his face.

"This is the worst," he groused miserably.

"Sounds like someone's warming charm has worn off," Nesme sang, flicking her wand at the dour boy.

Severus sighed, relaxing as the comfortable warmth spread out from his chest and along his arms and legs.

"Thank you," he said gratefully, readjusting his grip on his cup of hot cider, "Remind me again why we're doing this?"

Lily stared down at her boyfriend in bemusement as he hunkered down in his fall cloak and hood with his knees tucked up on the bench, "Because we agreed that best way to get our hands on that cloak is to get closer to James."

"But why today of all days?" Severus asked petulantly, eyeing the gray skies and overcast with disdain as rain clouds loomed threateningly over the Quidditch pitch.

"What better way to convince James we're sincere about this friendship than to show an interest in his favorite sport?" Lily replied, taking a gulp of her cider, "Besides, I love fall weather."

Severus huffed, "It's the muggle in you loving Halloween. Muggles are hardwire to view this season as the most magical because of superstition."

Lily laughed, "I do feel the witchiest in October."

"Well Samhain does do wonders for our magic," Davis remarked, thumbing through a book on poisonous mushrooms, "Same with the winter solstice."

Nesme glared at Davis, "And what do you think you're doing?"

"Reading," Davis replied casually.

Nesme went to push Davis's book down, "We're supposed to be watching James."

Davis swatted her hand away, "No, they're supposed to be watching him. I'm not obligated to befriend him for this plan. If I have to come out here, I might as well get some studying down."

"You do realize how suspicious that book title looks, right?" Nesme prompted.

Davis shrugged, "Extra credit for Herbology; not like I'm planning to make anyone a deadly soup anytime soon."

"If you do though, let me know," Severus called down the row, "Let me die with a warm meal in my stomach; it's preferable to sitting out here freezing my ass off."

"You're so dramatic," Lily teased, rolling her eyes, "It's not that cold."

Mary looked up from her needlepoint, "Besides, it could be worse. We could be by the lake; it's always colder around water."

"Well a wide open field without any shelter from the wind isn't much better," Severus replied sullenly.

Lily gently elbowed him, "Look friendly; the team's coming out."

Severus and his friends watched as the Gryffindor players marched onto the Quidditch pitch with purpose. Clad in all red and gold uniforms, they held their heads high as if this were an actual game and not simply a routine practice.

Leading the fray was team captain James Potter, his trademark overconfident grin in place as always. Sirius lagged along behind him, doing his usually strut as he wore his roguish smirk.

James's eyes swept the sparse crowds in the stands, preening at the attention from the usual gaggle of girls that came to gawk at 'men in uniform'. If he was disappointed to see that number drop by two with the departure of Meldonna and Jess, he didn't show it. Likely he hardly noticed their absence since they had only existed in his eyes to fawn over him.

It didn't take James long to spot Lily and Severus's group, his eyes lighting up with excitement. With a quick bark of orders to his team to get in formation for their first rundown, James mounted his broom with gallant flair and flew toward the stands.

"Shit," Severus cursed, "He's coming this way."

"Remember; be friendly, Sev," Lily reminded him.

James floated up to them, leaning lazily forward on his broom. It made Severus inwardly seethe; Potter just loved to show off how effortlessly he handle flying. It had been one of the first things to set them apart at school; James and his gang latching on quickly to Severus struggle with a bucking broomstick and deeming him inferior to James natural talents in flight. Of course, Potter and his lot had no clue of Severus muggle upbringing, nor how that left Severus at an unfair advantage while Potter got to be practically raised on a broom.

"Lily," James greeted merrily, "Severus, glad to see you two. Come to watch the best team in school warm-up?"

Another elbow from Lily prompted Severus to drop his scowl for a look of indifference; that's as far an effort as he'd make to smile, "Well it isn't like we'd want to watch Slytherin flounder all over the field."

Thankfully, it wasn't a lie; otherwise Severus would feel ill singing Gryffindor's praises in the shadow of his own House's shortcomings. From what he'd heard around the fireplace in the common room, Slytherin was absolutely abysmal this year since the loss of Rosier and Wilkes. Wilkes brutish thuggery as beater and Rosier's skill as captain had made them a mean team in previous years, one sporting multiple acts of violence on field. Alas, with Rosier graduating and Wilkes in prison, it would seem those who rose up to fill their shoes were just not cut out for the job.

James chuckled, "True that. Heard they've been just dreadful in all their practices. The first match is going to be a massacre. You should definitely come watch."

"Sounds like fun," Lily said with a kind smile. She discreetly nudged Severus.

Severus resisted rolling his eyes heavenward and bit back a sigh.

"Quite," he said with false enthusiasm.

James beamed as if he'd won the House Cup, "Wonderful! I look forward to seeing you there."

"Now," he said, cocky grin slipping onto his face, "Sit back and watch a master."

He zoomed back to his team, directing them to take different sides of the pitch and wait for his command. Sirius pointed at a random crowd of girls in the stands and said something that was lost on the wind for the bystanders, but whatever it was made James laugh uproariously and a few of his teammates snicker.

"Bet you a galleon that whatever Black said was woefully immature," Nesme wagered to Davis, eyebrows waggling.

Davis shook her hand, "I'll take that bet."

James nodded to one of his chasers, already holding the quaffle. Receiving a nod in return, James pointed his wand down at the equipment trunk below and released the snitch from its compartment. He watched it flit about and take off in a glimmer of gold before he used his wand to release the bludgers.

Instantly, enthusiastic pandemonium broke out over the pitch, as was the norm for a sport containing what could only be described as magically possessed bowling balls. The pair of bludgers tore off into the air, zigzagging and ricocheting into each other and the bouncing off the sides of goal post.

Sirius took in the chaos with natural grace, dodging and swerving out of the bludgers paths and pulling off unnecessary loops and flips.

James was quite the showman himself. Though the job of the seeker was essentially to do nothing until the snitch was spotted, James flew through his team like an acrobat, whipping around in sharp turns and pulling aerial stunts of his own. Occasionally, he actually did his job as captain and yelled directions and praise to his teammates as they ran over the formation.

Since the moment practice started, Potter and Black's fangirls hysterically cheered for their crushes with excitement more fitting for winning a goal in an official game than a practice match.

"Well they're in true form today, aren't they," Remus said as he climbed up onto the bench next to Severus, "I think I'm going deaf with all their screaming; they're rabid."

Severus smirked, "I'll say; one of them is actually foaming at the mouth. I don't recall them being this worked up last year."

"James wasn't single most of last year," Remus pointed out, "And they'd be crazy to have gone up against someone as catty and possessive as Jessica."

"Also, this year Sirius is off the market," Remus added with a self-satisfied grin, "To a mystery 'girl' it would seem. So they're hoping to reclaim his attention."

Sirius spied Remus in the stands and winked saucily at him before zooming off to join the game.

Severus's chuckled, "I suppose those girls don't have a snowballs chance in hell."

Remus smirked, "Not a chance at all. Sorry ladies, but he fought a basilisk for me; he wouldn't even take his trousers off to sleep with any of you."

Severus nearly snorted, risking a glance at Lily. Thankfully she appeared enraptured in watching Mary stitch her needlepoint, trying and failing to keep her eyes on the game. Lily actually found some enjoyment in Quidditch, but for the most part only when two teams were playing. Practice was hardly as interesting.

Severus side eyed Remus, "You seem pretty comfortable talking about his past dalliances."

Remus shrugged, "Honestly, it's hard to be bothered by what he got up to in the past when I consider that it was with people I don't have to compare myself to. I mean, the things he's attracted to in me none of those girls have, especially physically. Not to mention personality wise none of them had anything in common with him, nothing to hold his interest."

"It's like…" Remus screwed up his face, looking for a way to put his thoughts into words, "With them Sirius was just looking for a quick fix; there was nothing worthwhile or meaningful in any of those trysts. He didn't even care about their feelings when he loved them and left them. I know it's different with me. What he wants with me is more than a fling. I guess in way, I feel that puts me heads above the rest."

Remus shrugged again, "I don't know, maybe I would feel a bit more bothered if any of his past flings were with other guys, but I just don't feel threatened by any girls in his past."

"I suppose that makes sense in a way," Severus conceded, "I can't say I truly get it; I think I'd feel pretty self-conscious about myself if Lily had other relationships before me."

Remus gave Severus a soft smile, "Everyone's interpretation of love is different. To be honest, I actually don't feel that bothered by Sirius around other people. I sort of feel like…what we have is special enough that even if someone else came into his life, our bond wouldn't be ruined by him or me being with someone else, so long as we always came back to one another. I don't know…I guess it sort of feels like…like there's plenty of affection to go around or something. Does that make sense?"

"Not a bit," Severus replied with a teasing smiling, "But then again, I'm not you, so it isn't up to me what you want."

It seemed like a foreign concept to him; Lily and he were always pretty clear in how exclusive they wanted to be. They were made for each other, as cliché as that sounded. The thought of either of them being with anyone else, even just emotionally seemed unthinkable.

But Severus wasn't Remus and perhaps people loved in many different ways. Remus did have more of a pack sense of family than the standard human one, something Sirius likely shared sentiments with given how much he related to his canine animagus form.

"Is that your way of saying you don't give a shit so long as I'm happy?" Remus asked in bemusement.

Severus bobbed his head, "Pretty much."

"Well, I'll take your noncommittal support," Remus said with a laugh.

"So have you…" Severus gestured awkwardly with his hands, "actually…you know…?"

Remus eyes widened in understanding, "Oh that? Yeah, it didn't take us pretty long to do that. Honestly, we were up to it in the hospital wing shortly after the snafu in the chamber. Adrenaline, you know? Sort of a 'we nearly died' high, if you will."

Severus nodded, "Yeah, I can relate." The incident at the Longbottom's was the final push he and Lily needed to take the leap. Consdering Sirius and Remus would have nearly died moments after rekindling their friendship—let alone what was probably a confession on Sirius part—and it made sense that they'd throw themselves at each other the first chance they got."

"I have to say, it's nice that you aren't bothered by this sort of talk," Remus confessed, "My parents are supportive, but I can tell my dad has no idea how to talk about it. He always figured he'd be ribbing me about me bringing home some coy, innocent girl and now he's stuck with foul mouthed Sirius as a potential son-in-law. It's a different scenario than he expected."

Severus shrugged, "Honestly I didn't think love was meant for anyone growing up. Seeing my mom go through what she did with my dad made it hard to picture love belonging to anyone; it didn't have anything to do with gender. I thought love was false, something we claimed to have to comfort ourselves in our misery. I saw it as fake, even between a man and a woman."

"Then I found Lily and I thought," he snorted, "If someone could love a rotten thing like me, then made it was real, maybe it was something special."

He looked at Remus, "I don't see myself as any more deserving of love than anyone else. So I don't…really begrudge anyone out there capable of finding it."

Remus smiled, "That's somehow incredibly pessimistic and optimistic at the same time."

Severus grinned, "It's what I do."

"So where's Peter this fine day?" Severus asked with slight sarcasm in regards to the weather, eyeing the clouds overhead with distaste.

"He joined the wizard chess club," Remus answered, "Always been fascinated by the game, but he never joined before because James and Sirius always made fun of it. He's learned to not give a crap what they think so he's finally doing something he can enjoy."

"Well that's good," Severus noted.

Remus nodded, "He's quite good at it too. One of the top players in the club so far. It's a game of watching and waiting; Peter's always been one to observe rather than jump headfirst into anything."

"Glad to hear he's found something he can show off in," Severus remarked, "It's got to be a confidence booster to do something he likes and excel in it."

"I'll say," Replied Remus, "And unlike some people, he won't let that confidence go to his head."

They both watched James race across the pitch, his keen eyes locked on the snitch. The tiny winged orb abruptly took a dive, heading straight down, only for James to follow in fast pursuit.

Not one to care for James's well being, Severus still sucked in a breath sharply as he watched James careen towards the ground at breakneck speed, even going so far as to scoot as far to the front of his broom as possible.

Severus could feel Lily digging her nails into his arm as she gasped.

"Is he insane?" Davis shouted.

Nesme nudged Mary, "Looks like Hogwarts may be looking for a new Head Boy."

Mary sighed, "Don't hold your breath. Watch."

Just as James was mere feet from the ground, he jerked up on the broom handle suddenly and sharply, knees pressed together tightly around the broom to keep him seated. Pulling up from his impromptu nosedive, James shot horizontally across the pitch, slowly decreasing in speed as he raised his hand to reveal the snitch clench firmly in his palm.

The girls in the stand went wild aside from Lily's group who exhaled and shook their heads.

"It's his trademark move," Mary said tiredly, "He loves faking out the crowd from what I understand."

"Anyone a little disappointed," Nesme asked, only half joking.

Severus leaned around Lily to grin at Nesme, "You're humor is dark enough to be in Slytherin."

"Well I'm relieved," Lily commented, "I hate seeing people get hurt, even if it is someone insufferable. It's hard enough seeing someone get hit with a bludger; I don't want to witness someone breaking their neck."

"You're too soft," Davis quipped, "Remind me to never invite you to see an American football game. Those things are brutal."

"I hear their hockey is worse," Mary stated casually, not looking up from her stitching, "Shoes with blades on them, players being slammed into glass barriers."

Lily cut them off, "Anyway, I'm just glad no one got hurt."

One of the bludgers slammed into a beater from behind and knocked both him and his broom into one of the teacher's stands.

Everyone stared in shock before Nesme spoke.

"Well…" she said, "Except that guy…"

{page break}

Hidden away within a network of caves, a cozy goblin city bustled with activity. Vendors sold their wares from pottery to clothes, fresh meats to the ripest produce. Children tugged on parents hands asking for treats or toys, little ones rubbing their eyes from an afternoon nap as they clung to their mother's bosoms.

Merchants cried out of the din of livestock bred accustom to the darkness, shoppers gossiped amongst each other and haggled sales down to fair prices. The passing traveler caravan traded beaded and woven marvels for essential goods and herbs.

The walls of the caves gave way to doorways leading into finely furnished dwellings covered in rich tapestries and ornate wall hangings. Enchanted lights lay embedded in the ceilings illuminating rooms like the brightest stars. Expertly crafted chairs held old and wizen goblins as they smoked their pipes and widdled or knit, richly adorn cradles held slumbering infants as their mothers and fathers cooked dinner over steaming pots of the best irons.

Bent over a pot of meat and potatoes simmering in succulents, Simone wiped her brow as she reached for the sea salt.

"Got the table set, love?" she called over her shoulder.

Thea poked her head into the kitchen, "Just about. I need to pick the wine."

"Something red, I think," Simone mused aloud to her wife, "A merlot perhaps; something that goes well with bison."

"I thought the stew was pork," Thea questioned as she wandered in to select a wine.

"I used pork neck to make the broth," Simone informed her, "Boiled it with some onions, cloves, and peppercorns. Got a real rich flavor that compliments the bison meat."

Thea selected a bottle, coming over to peck Simone on the cheek, "It sounds delicious."

"And it's our guest favorite meal," Simone stated, "Along with pickled quail eggs and a side of sautéed Swiss chard. Finely made with care by you, I might add."

Thea rested her head on Simone shoulder from behind, wrapping her arms around Simone's waist, "To think only a year ago I had never held cooked anything. Things certainly do change."

Simone snorted, "You're parents wanted you to be a helpless housewife. If you had no skills to survive on your own, less chance of you ever running away. That's what they thought, at least."

"Of course," she smirked smugly over her shoulder at Thea, "We all know how well that plan of theirs turned out. Them awaiting trial and you married to the scoundrel they sought to keep you from."

Thea lightly slapped Simone in the head with a dishrag, "Cheeky."

A bell chimed from the front door, a lovely tinkling sound.

Simone took the stew off the fire, "That will be him."

Taking off her apron, she smoothed down her peasant blouse and layered skirts, draping an intricately woven shawl over her shoulders.

Thea doubled checked her braided hair in the mirror and adjusted her bejeweled necklace and bracelets.

If not for their height and small hands and noses, they'd look like respectable goblin women.

"Grimhelm," Simone greeted cordially as she ushered a rather wrinkle faced old goblin in, "Welcome, welcome."

Thea curtsied daintily, "So happy you could make it."

Grimhelm was guided in on Simone's arm, his steps slow and careful.

"I am honored to receive your invitation," he said with kindness, patting Simone's hand, "I see you've settled quite well into our way of life."

"It lacks the absurdity of the wizarding world," Simone quipped lightly with a smile.

Grimhelm chuckled, "Of course, of course. Nasty, sneaky business, your government. Not like ours. We've have rules, morals. Integrity."

Simone guided Grimhelm to a chair at the table, pushing it in for the frail goblin.

Grimhelm sniffed the air, "Is that bison tongue?"

"Indeed it is," Simone said proudly, "I'll bring out dinner. Thea, dear, would you please pour Grimhelm a drink?"

As Simone disappeared into the kitchen, Grimhelm gladly took a glass of wine from Thea.

"You have a lovely home," he complimented, surveying the dining room.

"Thank you, Master Grimhlem," Thea said gratefully.

Grimhelm raised his hand, "Please just Grimhelm. I'm not a Relic Master here."

"I almost forgot," Grimhelm said, reaching into his coat pocket, "It's customary to bring a gift to dinner."

From within his coat, he produced a black blade, ornamental knife, careful inscribed with goblin runes down the handle.

"For above your hearth," he explained, "To ward off evil."

"That's is so thoughtful," Simone commented as she returned, dishes floating behind her. She directed them onto the table and took the proffered knife, "Thank you, Grimhelm, it's beautiful."

"Crafted by my son," Grimhelm stated proudly, "His first warding blade."

"We will cherish it," Thea said with sincerity.

Simone and Thea sat and began dishing out the meal.

Grimhelm hummed approvingly as he beheld the quail eggs, "You remembered by favorites."

"Of course we did," Simone replied, "It's not every day we have such an honored guest in our home."

"And it's not every day a village elder entertains the requests of a human," Grimhelm said with a laugh, "But here we are."

Simone chuckled, "We'll get to that later. For now, let's enjoy ourselves."

Dinner was a jovial affair, Simone and Thea regaled by tales of Grimhelm's family and friends, sharing in jokes at the expense of ignorant witches and wizards who tried to outsmart a goblin accountant or swindle a goblin merchant. Simone told Grimhelm of her and Thea's integration into the community, their trade with the passing caravans and new friendships with dwarves from the Northern Mountains.

They spoke of news of Thea's parents and of their approaching trial, one that was to go forth despite the dastardly couple still not regaining their memories.

"I'm not proud of what I did," Simone said solemnly, "But they'd gone too far long before that moment. If scrambling their minds was the only way to free Thea from their grasp, then there wasn't else I could do."

"We all reach a point in our lives were the best choice is not necessarily the moral choice," Grimhelm said sagely, "Kings and Queens do not choose to send their soldiers to battle with a light heart and eased conscience; sometimes the hardest, bloodiest choice is the only option that can prevent greater tragedy."

"Which brings us to why I am here tonight," he went on, steepling his fingers, "You came to me with a proposal, one that compromises my duty…but could possibly bring better times and the end to an age old conflict."

He sat back in his chair, sinking contentedly into the plush cushions, "So…perhaps it is time I hear this proposal in full."

Simone set down her glass, her face serious, "Well Grimhelm, I'm sure you realize that there is a reason we requested Gringotts head Relic Master to join us here tonight."

"You require my access to the vaults," Grimhelm surmised, lips pursed to show his sentiments on the matter.

"I am well aware how grievously impertinent the request is, but there is a justifiable reason for it, one I think you'll find breaking sanctions for forgivable."

Grimhelm swirled the wine in his glass before taking a long sip, eyeing Simone carefully, "You mentioned Hufflepuff's Cup…"

"That is the item we seek information on, yes," Simone answered, "We have reason to believe it is in the possession of Bellatrix Lestrange, hidden away in her vault."

"Vaults are a personal matter, my dear," Grimhelm said evenly, "A private one. I cannot in good conscience grant you permission to steal; it goes against Goblin Law."

"Theft is the precise reason we feel you'll agree with us," Thea said suddenly.

Grimhelm turned to Thea curiously.

Thea placed down a set of papers on the table, handing one over to Grimhelm.

"According to the old records from Borgin and Burkes, an employee was sent to negotiate the purchase of a set of Goblin made armor from one Hepzibah Smith."

Grimhelm's lip curled derisively, no doubt disgusted that yet another human treated the crafts of goblins as something to do with as they please. To be passed along their wretched offspring rather than returned to the maker's family after the original owner's death, as was goblin custom.

Thea went on, "Shortly after the visit, Hepzibah Smith was found dead, allegedly killed by an accidental poisoning by her confused and aged house elf."

"Hepzibah Smith was rumored to be one of the last descendants of Helga Hufflepuff," Simone stated, "And it just so happened that among the items found at the crime scene was a satin lined box containing a hollowed out space in the shape of a cup." It had taken them a bit of digging to get that information; thrown away by the investigators as inconsequential after the house elf confessed.

"Hufflepuff's Cup," Grimhelm intoned.

Simone nodded, "The employee who had gone to see her vanished immediately after her death. His name was Tom Riddle…also known as You-Know-Who."

Grimhelm sat up straighter at that.

"The Diadem of Ravenclaw was found within Hogwarts last year, also having come in contact with Riddle. And Salazar's Locket was recently acquired, another item he tainted with dark magic. It is our belief that he is collecting the founder's items by any means necessary…to make them into horcruxes."

Grimhelm inhaled sharply, the wine glass shaking slightly in his clenched fist.

"If he has the cup, then it is stolen, Grimhelm," Thea stepped in, "And if it has been given to Bellatrix, then it is not her possession by right. You have no obligation under your law to guard it; thieves are not protected by Goblin Law."

Grimhelm looked contemplative.

"You know what he is capable of," Simone reminded him, "You-Know-Who may talk of unity and peace for lesser creatures—sell them whatever shlock he can to sway them to his side under the guise of a sympathetic light—but his bigoted followers are too numerous to deny that equality is the last thing on their mind. This war will end in destruction for all races should he win, and he seeks to ensure he outlives all who oppose him until there is no one left to fight him."

"Horcruxes would make that possible, Grimhelm," Simone said beseechingly, "It would become out grim reality if they are not destroyed. Goblins are far more resistant to the mind arts, that's why I am trusting you with this information. I trust you to take it to your grave, for your family's sake and mine." She reached out to place her hand atop Thea's.

Thea looked pleadingly at Grimhelm, "If the Cup is a horcrux, it must be destroyed. We can't do that unless we know where it is."

"This is still a heavy toll you ask of me," Grimhelm insisted, "To exploit loopholes in my oath, even if the logic is sound, is still a disrespect to our ways. You are asking me to steal from my clients."

"We are asking you to extract an item that was never theirs by law," Simone pointed out, "Bellatrix family shares no relation to Helga Hufflepuff and Salazar's own fractioned relationship with the other founders means it is unlikely the cup was willing given to anyone from Slytherin House. Surely you must see how protecting everyone's future—surely protecting Goblin kind from his reign—is worth bending some rules?"

"We're not necessarily asking you to take anything," Thea said diplomatically, "Technically all we're asking for right now is confirmation that the cup is in her vault. Though human made, the engravings were done by Goblin hand; you should be able to recognized it if you see it."

"Confirmation that it's there will be essentially proof that it was stolen," Simone pointed out, "At which point you have the right to remove it; you won't even be required to inform the thief unless you seek to charge them for the theft."

"Only someone belonging to the stolen item's rightful family may reclaim it," Grimhelm informed them.

"We're working on that safeguard," Simone said cryptically, "For now all we are asking is that the Relic Master check the vault…for a certain relic."

"That is still quite a task to ask of me for no payment," Grimhelm said shrewdly.

A hint of a smile quirked Simone's lips, "Who said I wasn't going to pay?"

At Simone's nod, Thea got up from the table and disappeared into another room.

"A dear, bearded friend of mine was more than amendable to my suggestion," Simone explained, "After all, he understands and respects the intricate and sacred laws of your people…and well, the item isn't his or anyone else's at this point anyway. Not legally."

Thea returned, carrying a large parcel wrapped in cloth. She set it down on the table with a thunk.

"There is no way to remove the enchantment that calls it to a true Gryffindor," Simone explained, "So you'll have to put up with it disappearing from time to time. But there's is no reason you can't place an enchantment on it of your own…so it always returns to Goblin hands after its purpose is served."

With dramatic flourish, Simone whipped back the cloth and revealed a magnificent sword, embedded with rubies in the hilt.

Grimhelm bit back a gasp, his eyes widening.

"I was told that by Goblin Law, anything made by a goblin is to be returned to them or their family after the one who commissioned it has died," Simone said, "Well Godric Gryffindor has been dead for centuries, so I guess this is no longer rightfully his."

Grimhelm reached out a shaking hand and carefully lifted the sword from its wrappings. Eyes wide in astonishment and going glassy, he caressed the blade reverently.

Simone grinned at Grimhelm, "Ragnuk the First was your ancestor, was he not? What do you say, Grimhelm…do we have a deal?"

Cold Sev is salty Sev.

This scene was inspired by the many hours in high school that I spent as a member of the band, sitting on the bleachers in all weather waiting for the football practice to wrap up so we could practice marching. Sitting in cold, rainy weather in our school colored orange and black overcoats, with the hood pulled up, our arms and legs tucked in, no part of us visible, looking like a bunch of pterodactyls roosting since the hoods folded over like beaks.

So Simone and Thea are wasting no time getting info on the cup. And I thought the sword would be a good bargaining chip. Yes I know Ragnuk lied by saying Godric stole it because he ended up coveting the sword after making it, but frankly, if it's a well known fact that goblins view their commissioned work as belonging to them after the one they made it for dies, then maybe wizards should have worked out an agreement before asking goblins to make their shit.

Review please.