Disclaimer: Nothing is mine; everything is J K Rowlings.

Number 99, which, if I were inclined to leave this story with a nice round number of chapters, would make this the penultimate one...

Enjoy!

Chapter 99

He had run.

To his shame he had clenched his jaw and fled, apparating away back to the Meadows; it hurt his pride, but he knew there was little sense risking himself in a duel with Voldemort before the horcruxes were destroyed.

Those who run away live to fight another day, he told himself, sitting quietly in their kitchen, watching Fleur play with the dragon-shaped chocolate bubble above her drink.

Sirius silently opened his robes, tugging at the gleaming, wet bandage beneath.

It was crimson from waist to armpit, but blotches of black, and yellow liquid spread from over the crescent shaped wound.

'Looks pretty,' Harry grimaced, as Sirius poked at it gingerly with his forefinger.

'Don't poke it,' Fleur snapped irritatedly, 'I'm not redoing the bandage again.'

'It's soaked through already,' Sirius grumbled, but he relented, and pulled his robes closed again.

'No more duelling if you can avoid it,' Fleur answered, as the dragon collapsed back into her mug, 'not until that's healed.'

'It's not that bad,' Sirius grinned, rolling his eyes.

Fleur reached out without looking and poked him firmly in the side.

'Shit,' he hissed, almost falling from his chair.

'Not that bad?' She quipped lightly.

'Fine,' Sirius groused, 'it's uncomfortable.'

'Cast a spell,' Harry told him flatly.

Sirius drew his wand, stifling a groan and wincing when his arm moved away from his chest. His spell, the simple light casting charm, came out weaker than usual, and flickered as he pressed his free hand back to his side.

'No more duelling,' Harry agreed, and Sirius nodded, tucking his wand away sheepishly.

'Stupid Malfoy,' he mumbled. 'What am I supposed to do now?' He demanded. 'What are we supposed to do now?'

'Is the polyjuice finished?' Harry asked curiously.

'It needs the blood,' Fleur said, 'but other than that yes, we need only speak to Neville.'

'He has the blood by now,' Harry nodded confidently, 'I'm sure he will.'

'Polyjuice?' Sirius looked baffled.

'We need to pick something up from the bank,' Harry said dryly.

'The horcrux,' Sirius nodded. 'Watch out for the goblins, Harry, they don't take kindly to thieves,' he looked vaguely contemplative, 'or wizards and witches, for that matter.'

'I wasn't planning on getting caught.'

'I should check the protean charm for their visitors' ledger,' Fleur decided, draining her mug, 'I haven't looked since before Dumbledore died.'

'Good idea.'

'So there are only two horcruxes left apart from the one in Gringotts?' His godfather asked, brow furrowed.

'There is the cup in Gringotts, and Nagini,' Harry corrected. 'Dumbledore and I destroyed the other one of the three.'

'We're so close,' he realised.

'Not close enough,' Harry said quietly.

I'll see you soon enough, he remembered Voldemort saying, smiling with covetous confidence even as he apparated away from him.

'Voldemort has all of Britain save London,' Harry continued, 'and we have a horcrux to destroy before the Ministry finally falls.'

'So destroy it,' Sirius suggested lazily, 'the Lestranges' vault will be right at the bottom of that bank, but with the cloak you can probably just walk in and out again.'

'You have to leave,' Fleur blurted, all but sprinting back into the room.

'Leave?' Harry stood up from his chair, Elder Wand in hand immediately. 'Have the wards been breached?'

'No,' Fleur brandished the piece of paper she held under his nose, 'the Lestranges are visiting their vault, and speaking to their account manager today.'

'Merde,' Harry swore, thrusting out a hand and summoning his cloak into his palm. 'Voldemort must have seen that Dumbledore died from a Withering Curse, and recognised one of the protections on his horcruxes, now he's checking on them.'

'He's not going to be happy, is he?' Sirius commented wryly.

'He didn't know when apparated out of Little Whinging,' Harry decided. There was no way Voldemort would have let him go if he was really a threat, no matter how curious he was about Harry's power. 'And he doesn't know about Fleur either,' he added more cheerfully.

'What?!'

'He thinks you're a story I made up to protect Katie,' Harry said solemnly, all too aware that Fleur might not approve of that.

'That's,' Fleur looked both offended, and calculating, 'that's good, I suppose, but he's really over thought that.'

'I wouldn't complain,' Sirius grinned, as Harry tucked his own wand into his sleeve as a spare, and stuffed the two vials of polyjuice potion into his pockets.

'It's almost sad that his first thought is that everything he hears is a lie made by others for their own good,' Fleur remarked, sliding around Sirius, to squeeze Harry in a tight hug. 'Be careful,' she whispered to him sternly, fingers pressing almost painfully into his back.

'You know I'll try,' Harry promised.

'If I hear the word improvise even once when you come back,' Fleur warned.

'You won't,' he grinned, 'I'll keep it a secret.'

He gently pulled her fingers away, stepping out of her grasp.

'I will be back in a little while,' he said softly, then apparated straight onto the top of the steps out of the Chamber of Secrets.

The Marauders' Map fluttered into his fingers after a few seconds of waiting.

Neville was in the Gryffindor Tower, in the common room.

Nothing is ever easy, he groaned, throwing the cloak over himself and stepping out of the chamber.

When he walked into the tower he found the common room all but empty, and Ron, Hermione, and Neville were embroiled in a furious shouting match.

'You sold him out to McGonagall,' Neville was yelling, 'and now you have the gall to demand my help?'

'He murdered another student,' Hermione hissed back.

'He avenged Katie,' Neville retorted, 'Malfoy was a Death Eater, I was there when they took his body down, and the mark was on his arm plain as day.'

'Revenge would have been killing him,' Ron said slowly, somehow he had become the voice of reason, 'revenge I could have understood, but Harry didn't just kill him, he tortured him too.'

'A message,' Neville spat, 'to stop others from making the same mistake Malfoy did and joining Voldemort.'

'You know who else sends messages by torture,' Hermione replied scathingly, 'the same wizard who dropped Professor Snape's body in the middle of Hogsmeade, the ones who attacked your parents.'

Neville flinched slightly, but shook his head.

'They did it for pleasure, for power,' he decided, 'Harry was thinking of the greater good.'

This time Harry winced, glad that Neville was wrong, but torn that his real reason had been little better than the Death Eaters themselves.

'And everything else?' Hermione asked, two pink patches of rage high upon her cheeks. 'Look at how things are, Neville,' she cried, 'Voldemort rules Britain, everywhere save London, and Hogwarts, Dumbledore is dead, our friends, our families will either have to struggle in his shadow or die, and Harry, the boy who was supposed to defeat him, the one we were meant to help destroy Voldemort, is little better than the dark wizard himself.'

I don't have time to eavesdrop, Harry remembered, I have to get Neville's attention.

'Either Harry is on our side,' Ron said simply, still keeping his cool, 'then we, all that's left of the Order, will help him, or he will turn out to be against us, and instead of an friend, we have an enemy's enemy.'

Hermione sniffed disdainful, spinning on her heel, in a swirl of bushy hair and a glint of silver. 'What if he turns out just to be an enemy,' she snapped, stalking up to the girl's dormitories before either of them could reply.

'Sorry, mate,' Ron apologised. 'I don't know what's gotten into her recently. It's like she's certain Harry and Voldemort are equally evil.'

'They aren't even close,' Neville said hotly.

'Harry's no hero,' Ron grimaced, 'but he's still on our side.' He sighed, staring up the stairs after Hermione. 'I should go talk to her,' he said slowly, 'at least Harry showed us how to get past that stupid slide.'

He was gone in the time it took to cast a Confundus Charm, following in Hermione's footsteps.

'Neville,' Harry announced himself softly.

His friend started, spinning round to stare at where he stood, invisible.

'Harry?' He asked warily.

'It's time,' Harry told him simply, pulling the cloak off his head.

'Gringotts?' Neville gulped, hands slipping into his pocket to pull out two small envelopes.

'Follow me,' Harry instructed, ushering him close and throwing the cloak over both of them, 'we have to be quick.'

'Why?' Neville inquired tentatively, almost walking into Harry's back when he stopped, catching movement in the corner of his eye.

He looked, but there was nothing there.

'Voldemort suspects our goal,' Harry said evenly, reassured that they were alone, 'the Lestranges will be at Gringotts.'

Neville's breath caught beside him.

'Don't get carried away,' Harry warned, 'revenge if it's possible, but the horcrux must come first. Voldemort has to be stopped, and that is more important than personal revenge.'

Harry was almost proud of himself for saying it. He was proud of himself for believing it again.

'Myrtle's bathroom?'

'Not quite,' Harry grinned. 'Open,' he whispered in parseltongue, and chuckled when Neville jumped away from the sinks.

'Is this?'

'The Chamber of Secrets,' Harry nodded, stepping past the threshold. Neville attempted to follow, but found he could not step across the boundary. 'Coming?' He invited, and this time Neville's foot crossed the line.

'This place is not what I expected,' Neville remarked, eyeing the sooty shadow of the basilisk with some trepidation and no small amount of awe.

Harry pulled out the two vials of polyjuice, unstopping them and setting them on the floor. 'It was more than just a lair for a serpent,' he shrugged, 'Salazar Slytherin was a great wizard, it was Voldemort who twisted this place into something to be feared.'

'What's through there?' His friend asked, pointing into the study as he handed Harry the two envelopes.

'Salazar's study,' Harry said softly.

'You speak like you knew him,' Neville remarked confusedly.

The blackened, dried flakes of blood slid into the vials, setting the thick, porridge-like potion to bubbling and churning. One turned a dark, noxious looking orange, the other an equally disgusting shade of yellow.

'I did,' Harry answered, passing Neville his potion, the disgusting looking yellow one, 'he left a portrait here.'

'Can I speak to it?' Neville asked. 'I mean,' he shuffled awkwardly, 'if you don't mind.'

'No,' Harry said evenly, 'it was destroyed.'

'Oh.'

'Drink up, Nev,' Harry encouraged tipping his vial in his friend's direction, and downing it in one gulp.

The unpleasant warping heat of the transformation washed over him, squirming and writhing along his limbs.

Harry shut his eyes and silently endured it.

When reopened them he found Neville staring hatefully at his own reflection in the pool.

'Time to go,' Harry said firmly, 'we'll find the Lestranges, and separate them somehow, then I will replace Rudolphus to one brother, and you will replace Rastaban with the other.'

'Can we not just kill them?' Neville gritted.

'After we persuade one to open the vault for us,' Harry reminded him.

'Won't they notice when there are two pairs of Lestrange brothers at the vault?' Neville asked.

'Leave a mark in the passageway before the vault if you get there before me,' Harry said, 'and if you see the mark, then you know you are free to take revenge.'

'What mark?' Neville demanded.

Fleur's right, Harry realised, I do leave out little details.

'This one,' he smiled, drawing the Peverell crest in purple fire in the air. 'Now,' he swept the cloak back over the both of them, 'let's go to Gringotts.'

There was a soft snap, and the two of them stood on the steps of the bank.

'Are you ready?' Harry whispered as they slipped in to the bank in the wake of a rotund, portly wizard with ruddy, red cheeks and worn boots.

'No,' Neville grinned weakly, 'not even a little bit, but I can't wait, not when I'm so close.'

Harry understood that well enough.

Under the cloak they shuffled off to one side, glancing about for any glimpse of the Lestranges they were polyjuiced as.

'There,' Neville hissed, pointing at a pair of nondescript, thickset looking wizards on the far side of the hall.

'Sure?'

They were talking to a rather prestigious looking goblin, and while Harry spied dark, coal black curls beneath the hood of the further of the two.

'Oh I'm sure,' Neville whispered angrily, 'how could I not recognise them.'

'We need to split them up,' Harry said, as they drifted closer so they might be able to tell which brother was which.

'How the hell are we going to do that?' Neville demanded.

'Easy,' Harry grinned, pointing the tip of the Elder Wand at the brother whom Neville currently resembled. 'Get ready to take his place.'

'Take his place,' Neville took several deep breaths, 'fine.'

'Imperio,' Harry murmured, ignoring his friend's start of surprise. He needed no legilimency to feel the disapproval emanating from Neville, but now was not the time to argue.

Rastaban Lestrange shivered slightly as Harry's will washed over him, then drew his wand and turned to stride across the room and into the alcove where they were hidden. Harry threw the cloak over him, and Neville walked back across to join the man who had helped torture his parents.

His friends hands were curled tight, and pale, but there was no other indication of his hatred than that.

The two of them, true Lestrange, and false, followed the goblin towards the same meeting room that Harry and Fleur had used to purchase the Meadow.

'Let's go visit the vault,' Harry instructed the enthralled Lestrange beside him, slipping the cloak off, and stepping back out into the centre of the hall.

'I would like to visit my vault,' Rastaban demanded proudly, extending his wand to the goblin.

The creature, whose name Harry knew better than to ask for lest it cast him in suspicion, turned it over in his long fingered hands, then nodded, and passed it back to Rastaban.

The Death Eater snatched it back possessively.

The creature smiled toothily. 'Follow me,' he nodded, ushering them down the rough, torchlit passage, and into one of Gringotts rather small carts.

Harry rubbed shoulders with the Death Eater, who seemed none too thrilled about the coming descent on the thin, iron tracks that disappeared deep down into Gringotts bowels.

He had definitely come off the better of the two of them.

Neville, no doubt, was enduring the meeting with the goblins, and Harry hoped he had the sense to keep his mouth shut as often as the meeting would allow.

The cart plunged abruptly, leaving Harry's stomach hanging somewhere up above and behind him.

Rastaban turned with all the dignity and poise of a pure-blooded lord, and pressed the fingers of the hand that was not clutching tightly at the cart's rim over his mouth.

The goblin who stood at the head of the cart smirked nastily.

'Not too much further,' it said, as the cart twisted and dived lower.

This is far farther than I have ever come before, Harry realised. It will not be easy getting out if we are discovered.

They were going to fast to glimpse much more than vast, milky columns, stalactites that descended from the ceiling in marble spears, and glittering stalagmites that thrust up from the floor.

There was a spray of water, a fine, thin film that cooled his face, and soaked his hair, and beside him Rastaban shook his head furiously.

The thief's downfall, Harry gritted.

He had hoped for more warning than that.

The polyjuice was fading already.

His body shivered, shuddered and squirmed hot as it returned to its usual form, and his fingers tightened about the wood of the Elder Wand as he tried to shift himself around to find the space to cast anything.

'Intruder,' the goblin hissed, fingers darting to the brake at the front of the cart.

'Imperio,' Harry ordered, and the goblin relaxed back into his seat.

'Potter!' The Lestrange beside him hissed, swinging his fist wildly at Harry.

Harry ducked, but the Death Eater's knuckles grazed his shoulder, knocking him back against the edge of the cart, and the Elder Wand slipped from his fingers under their seats.

He hit back, catching Lestrange in the stomach, and driving his knee deep into the Death Eater's face when he doubled over, winded, but Lestrange simply hurled himself forwards, smashing Harry back against the edge of the cart, and for an instant he saw only bright pinpricks of white light as his head struck the iron-bound side.

A loud crack, and a flare of pain along the right side of his face dispelled them.

Lestrange stood over him, blood-smeared knuckles raised before his chin.

'Not so tough,' he sneered, and his fist flashed forwards again, spreading the white-hot pain further across Harry's face. 'You've evaded the Dark Lord long enough,' the Death Eater grinned, dipping his hand within his robes for his wand.

'And I will continue to do so,' Harry spat, thrusting his hand out, and summoning the Elder Wand back to him before Lestrange could react.

The Death Eater's spell tore away the side of the cart as Harry threw himself out of its path, then the cart ground to a sudden halt and they were both hurled forwards into the goblin.

'The Lestrange vault is just through here,' the goblin announced, indicating a passage far below them, beside the pink-scarred, dirt-encrusted, white-scaled hide of something that looked horrible draconian.

'No,' the Death Eater hissed. 'You have come for our Lord's treasure, but you will not have it.'

The goblin had started walking down towards the vault, seemingly not aware of the fight around him, nor the flash of emerald that streaked over his shoulder when Lestrange attempted to kill him and prevent either of them from being able to open the vault.

Harry threw several Piercing Hexes in his direction, forcing the Death Eater to shield until the goblin was on the path, and out of sight. The Elder Wand hummed, vibrating angrily as the magic it unleashed shattered stalactites, but sundered no souls.

Rastaban was swearing furiously, and throwing every dark curse Harry had ever read about in his direction.

The entrail-spilling curse flew over his head, the blood-boiling curse he deflected to spatter and hiss against the stalagmite beside him, and every other spell that Lestrange hurled in a rainbow of poisonous, sickly hues followed suit.

The cart they had come on was knocked from its rails to fall into the chasm below the track, but the Death Eater, all too aware that the goblin was under Harry's influence, abandoned his assault to throw himself down the slope, sliding across the filth towards the dragon and the door to his vault.

He hurled himself after Lestrange, pausing only to engrave the Peverell crest onto the stalagmite by the cart's stop in glimmering indigo flames. The apparition wards were too strong for him to break.

Down below the dragon snarled furiously, snapping at Lestrange, but unable to reach him from within its chains and the Death Eater ignored it, casting desperate curses at the goblin who was obliviously attempting to open the vault door.

Harry slid down onto the terrace with the dragon, hurling bone-splintering, and flesh-cutting curses after Lestrange.

If he kills the goblin then not only are we both trapped down here, then the vault cannot be opened either.

Harry had no illusions about his chances of breaking through that vault door on his own.

The Death Eater conjured a copper sheet behind him as a shield, and though Harry's spells dented it, they could not pierce the makeshift defence.

'Merde,' he swore, sprinting across the terrace, and banishing the piece of copper violently out of his way.

The goblin was dead against the vault door, eyes blank and staring, but Lestrange looked furious, for, despite his best efforts to pull it shut, the vault door was ajar.

'Fulminis,' Harry hissed, unleashing the white lightning in violent, arcing tendrils.

A second piece of copper attracted them aside from their target just before they struck, and the Death Eater grimaced from the heat as his conjured copper warped and melted beside him.

'You won't take another step towards my vault,' he declared, squaring his shoulders and raising his wand.

Harry turned his magic on the goblin, animating the dead flesh beside the vault door and directing its fury at Lestrange.

The Death Eater cried out in pain as the goblin hurled itself on him, biting, tearing and ripping at the wizard's flesh through his dark robes.

Harry ran past the struggling pair and into the vault.

It was a mountain of gold, gems, and priceless things.

It would take me hours to even find the cup, he realised in dismay, staring around him at the piles. I only have to know it's here, he decided grimly.

'You're too late, Lestrange,' he called out through the door. 'The cup is destroyed.'

The Death Eater did not respond to his taunts save to hurl the lifeless head of the goblin inferius he had created into the nearest pile of coins.

'I will die for my failure,' he gritted, 'but you will die here as well.'

The coins exploded, multiplying over and over, and swelling in a burning wave across the floor of the vault.

'You lied,' the Death Eater gasped, eyes flicking past Harry to the far end of the vault.

'I did,' Harry grinned, 'but now I know it's truly here.'

His piercing hex came too fast for Lestrange to deflect, but the wizard hurled himself to one side, and it only grazed his shoulder, knocking him back out onto the terrace.

Harry sprinted after him, ducking the purple beam that cut a deep line across the vault door where his head had been only moments before.

The fiendfyre billowed from his wand, swirling around him, hungry red tongues dripping smoke and spilling across the floor.

The Death Eater snarled and raised his wand, readying himself for the assault that he was sure to have to face.

The fiendfyre coalesced, the bright, burning, white-hot basilisk rising from the floor to curl around his feet.

'I am not afraid of fire,' Lestrange spat angrily, 'you won't intimidate me.'

The basilisk lunged forwards, but not towards Lestrange; it thrust itself into the vault, slithering through the open door behind Harry, who released his control of it the moment the fire was mostly within the wards of the vault.

'No!' Lestrange screamed, realising his mistake.

He hurled blood-boiling curses at Harry, who, deflecting them away, smoothly stepped aside, letting the Death Eater advance to the edge of the vault.

'Expelliarmus,' Lestrange yelled, and Harry, gambling, let the Elder wand be torn from his fingers, and fly into the Death Eater's hand.

Rastaban had no idea what he held, but with Harry's wand in his hand he relaxed, raising his own wand to banish the fiendfyre before the horcrux Voldemort had entrusted him was consumed by it.

Harry's slender, ebony wand slid into his fingers from his other sleeve, and with a flick of its tip the whip of bright fire took both of Lestrange's arms off at the elbow before he could vanish the fiendfyre within the vault.

The Elder Wand flew back to Harry's hand, shivering delightedly in his fingers, and sending cold thrills of power up his arm and down his spine.

'What now, Potter,' Rastaban hissed. 'Another of the Dark Lord's trusted killed. He was already coming for you, now he will be furious.'

Harry ignored him, walking slowly across to pluck the Death Eater's wand from the floor, and then snapping it into four pieces before tossing them into the flames through the vault.

The fire within was hot enough to sear at his face and hands even outside the wards; nothing within would have survived it.

'You'll die, Potter,' Rastaban Lestrange threatened, 'but not until you're alone, and not until your life is the only thing the Dark Lord can yet take from you.'

Harry looked at him, sparing him a single long glance.

Voldemort will never touch Fleur, or anyone else we care about, he promised himself.

He kicked the Death Eater back into his own vault, then, with a cruel smile, he plucked the keys from bloodstain beside the lock, and thrust the wrong one into the lock.

The vault door slid shut immediately, and Harry hurled the right key down into the chasm.

Now to find Neville.

He took three steps away from the vault when he heard the cart coming, and sprinted forwards to duck behind the stalagmite he had engraved the mark on.

'You've got guts little Longbottom,' he heard Rudolphus laugh, 'you take after your parents in that. They were strong wizards, brave wizards, but not cunning, and I daresay you aren't either.'

Cursing Harry crept up the slope, unfolding the cloak.

'He is a thief in Gringotts, wizard,' the goblin snarled, 'and thus he is ours.'

'I caught him,' the Death Eater disagreed, 'he is mine.'

'The bank is aware of the intruder,' the goblin continued nastily, 'and soon my kin, and the guards will be here; it would be best if you gave us our prisoner.'

Merde.

Harry and Neville could walk out under the cloak if the only thing in their way were wards, but he imagined the goblins would not helpfully be leaving all the doors open.

'Was that a threat, goblin?' Lestrange replied hotly.

'Gringotts is goblin land,' Harry could hear the wide-toothed smile, 'and under goblin law.'

'Fine,' Lestrange relented furiously, 'but only after he tells me why he came. I owe the little bastard for my hand, and for my brother!'

'He must be alive, and coherent,' the goblin said, as Harry rounded the stalagmite, glimpsing a tangled mass of flesh where the Death Eater's fingers should be on his left hand.

'Crucio,' Rudolphus sneered, as Neville writhed beneath his wand. 'Where is my brother?' He demanded. 'If he is dead, or harmed, I will torture you until your whole family has a ward in St Mungo's.'

Harry's fingers tightened lividly around the Elder Wand.

Ice spread from his feet, crackling across the floor, spines of frost growing in its wake.

The goblin frowned, stepping back, fingers twitching as it stared at the ice. 'There is another intruder,' it realised fearfully, but too late.

The ice thrust from the floor, impaling the other Lestrange through the thigh and arm as he attempted to twist away.

'Harry,' Neville gasped in relief, 'I'm sorry, I was caught. They're coming now.'

He ignored his friend, banishing the other Lestrange brother off the path to bounce down across the slope onto the terrace.

Neville's wand floated gently into Harry's hand from the Death Eater's robes.

'I imagine,' Harry said slowly, 'that it will be quite easy to take your revenge now.'

Neville struggled up, taking his wand from Harry's fingers, and levelling it at the wizard who had tortured his parents into insanity, but his fingers were trembling.

'You know the words,' Harry encouraged gently, 'take your revenge, Nev.' Lestrange groaned, slowly pulling himself upright with on hand on the pillar beside him. 'The moment you've waited so long for is passing,' he warned kindly.

Neville's eyes were hollow, and the wand tip wavered and fell.

'I can't,' he admitted, 'I just can't.'

Perhaps you aren't like me after all, Harry thought disappointedly.

'Reducto,' he murmured.

The weak blasting curse knocked the Death Eater back a few metres across the floor, leaving a thin trail of blood on the marble.

'Some terrifying wizard you are, Potter,' Lestrange laughed, 'if I had a wand you would be dead in seconds casting magic as pathetic as that.'

'You might want to look away, Nev,' Harry advised, for behind the laughing Death Eater the dragon was stirring.

Neville flinched his eyes aside only a moment before the jaws closed about the Death Eater, but nothing shielded him from the distinct crunch that echoed up from the terrace below.

'You fed him to a dragon,' Neville whispered distantly.

'You had your moment, Nev,' Harry said simply, 'you couldn't kill the man who tortured your parents, so I did.'

Neville flushed and dropped his head.

'You didn't look away,' Harry heard him whisper, 'you didn't even care.'

The goblin, who had been wisely silent until now, opened his mouth. 'You sneak into our bank, into our lands,' it hissed, 'you steal from us, you kill our clients within our own walls. The arrogance of wizards!'

'I would suggest silence,' Harry responded evenly.

'I've seen what the world thinks you will become, have become,' the goblin smirked, 'catching you in the act will prove very lucrative for us, and for me.'

'Harry?' Neville asked nervously. 'How do we get out now?'

'Get out,' the goblin grinned. 'This is Gringotts, nobody steals from Gringotts and survives.'

Neville looked like he might start hyperventilating, so Harry put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

'They said the same thing about Azkaban,' he reminded Neville.

'Azkaban was run by wizards,' the goblin sneered.

'I think you've said enough,' Harry told the goblin coldly, 'in fact,' he continued, realising that the goblin knew both of their identities, 'I think you've seen too much as well.'

'Wait,' the goblin raised his hands, paling as it remembered the reality of its position. 'I can help you escape.'

'Talk quickly,' Harry ordered.

'There are tunnels back up from every level,' the goblin said, 'goblin tunnels, they're warded, so you will need me to go through.'

Why?' Harry asked.

'If you are not a goblin then you will not be able to enter without one's permission,' the goblin said simply, 'the wards will detect you, and you will be trapped.'

'Where does the tunnel lead?'

'Up,' the goblin said, hesitantly pointing past the dragon to a small opening in the shadows of the pillar.

Of course it had to be behind the dragon, Harry grimaced, why are there always surprise dragons?

'How far up?' Neville demanded.

'There are steps all the way up to where the carts descend from,' the goblin answered reluctantly.

'Let's go,' Harry decided, eyeing the dragon warily.

'Good idea,' Neville agreed, looking relieved. 'Do you have a name?' He asked the goblin politely.

'Griphook,' it replied slowly, bemused by Neville's foolishly friendly demeanour.

'Nice name,' Harry nodded guilelessly. 'Goodbye, Griphook.'

The Elder Wand let out a brilliant, white flash and then there was nothing left of the goblin but ashes.

Neville froze.

'Come on, Nev,' Harry urged, grasping his arm.

Neville pulled away, staring at the floating, grey specks.

'He was innocent, Harry,' his friend said, appalled. 'Why?'

'He would have betrayed us the moment he had a chance,' Harry told him slowly. 'And innocent is a strong word to use for a greedy, possessive creature such as that one.'

It's obvious, Nev, he frowned. You're still so naive sometimes.

'We could have stunned him!'

'He knew who we were,' Harry said, dragging Neville down the slope towards the dragon. 'We would have had the goblins after us for the rest of their lives.'

He pulled the cloak over them both, and they slipped past the dragon into the narrow, dark passageway beyond. The walls were rough, and lit by glowing chunks of crystal in bronze braziers that lined the twisting, thin-stepped staircase. Harry hurried forwards, knowing Neville had to follow now.

'You could have memory charmed him, you must know how.'

'It's not reliable,' Harry told him calmly.

Neville will see when he realises that this was the only option to get us out unharmed and unknown.

'Then we should have taken the risk!' Neville yelled, his voice echoing up the passage.

'Hush,' Harry hissed, 'we may not be alone. I killed the goblin because he was in our way,' Neville's eyes widened in horror, 'and because if I had not we would both die in here. I promised Fleur I would be careful, and I will not leave her over a goblin who would have let a Death Eater torture you in front of him.'

'You didn't need to kill Griphook,' Neville said sullenly, sullenly stalking up the steps beside him.

They didn't speak all the way up to the top, nor even when Harry apparated them back into the Chamber of Secrets, and led Neville back up to Myrtle's Bathroom.

'Here,' Harry said eventually, pushing the Marauders' Map into his hands. 'This will help you keep everyone in the castle safe; it shows where everyone is at all times unless they are in here, or in the Room of Requirement.'

'Thanks,' Neville said stiffly. 'I'll do my best to protect everyone.'

'If I win everyone will be safe, Nev,' Harry told him softly, even as Neville turned his back to walk away.

'But that isn't why you're doing it, is it?' Neville asked.

He didn't wait to hear Harry's answer, and the door swung shut behind him before Harry could think of anything to say, truth or lie.

'No,' Harry admitted to the empty bathroom, 'no it's not.' He knew why he wanted to win, and those reasons were his own, they were selfish dreams, but they were what he wanted. 'They'll still be saved either way,' he told the bathroom bemusedly. If I can keep them from harm, then I will. Surely that makes it the same.'

Yet the intent is different, he thought, and that is all that is important in magic.

Harry apparated from the top step, the world whirling away until he stood in the kitchen of the Meadow.

He was immediately engulfed in silver hair, and soft, warm arms.

'What happened?' She demanded, pressing his face into her chest.

'I improvised,' her grinned, unable to resist.

She stamped on his foot, hard, and he flinched, swearing in French at the sudden pain.

'You do not come back with a face like that and joke,' she hissed at him angrily.

My face.

His fingers crept up to the soft throbbing. They came away dark, and sticky.

Lestrange, he remembered.

It was mostly healed, the bone had fractured, he recalled hearing it, feeling it snap, but only some bruising and the blood was left.

'The horcrux?' Sirius asked carefully.

'Destroyed,' Harry let himself enjoy the brief swell of satisfaction, 'there's only the snake left now, but he knows, and Nagini will not be easy to kill.'

'We'll find a way,' Sirius assured him. 'You go after Voldemort, Fleur and I will go after the snake while you duel, and then we'll come back to help you.'

'You make it sound so easy,' Harry smiled. Behind his smile, beneath the genuine amusement he felt, came a creeping, cold fear, because there was no better plan. Voldemort was coming for him, and he couldn't let either Fleur or Sirius duel the Dark Lord.

'It will be anything but,' Fleur murmured into his hair, pressing him more tightly to her, 'but we will survive. We have a dream, a wish,' she whispered, 'and we'll make it real.'

AN: Please read and review, thanks to everyone who does!