Author's Note:
This is a continuation of Quitdditch Tales. If you haven't read that first, this one won't make much sense. Most of the action-y part of the plot was dealt with in that story. This story's role is different. Yes, in these pages you'll finally see Harry put paid to Tom Riddle, but by this point in the story, much of the dark wizard catching is left up to the Ministry, and Harry has a relatively peaceful year as a result. The breathing room the Ministry provides is instead taken up with handling and developing his relationships. Friends and family take centre stage in this story, and be forewarned: there's a few more lemons in these pages than in Quidditch Tales, so if they're not your thing, best give this one a miss. Thanks for reading.
Chapter 1
Monday, 1 July 1996
Ministry of Magic, London, England
Harry Potter stepped out of the lift on level two. He was dressed in a black AC/DC T-shirt and loose-fitting blue jeans. Sirius Black had gotten him the shirt, and Harry quite liked their music. They'd been Sirius' favourite band before his incarceration. Despite Harry's best efforts, he'd not been able to tame his black locks.
Beside him were Sirius, still his godfather, even if Harry was emancipated, and Katie Bell, Harry's girlfriend of nearly ten months. Sirius was dressed little better than Harry: no robes, jeans, and a striped button-down shirt. Katie had made a bit of an effort, with a white baby doll T-shirt and black jeans, but too eschewed the usual wizarding robes unless they were necessary, just like Harry did.
"Wotcher," Tonks greeted them. "Bonsey told me to bring you right on through."
"I don't see why we couldn't've done this at home," Sirius sighed.
"Bonsey doesn't like evidence getting out," Tonks replied.
"Is that what she wanted to show me?" Harry asked. "What sort of evidence?"
"Don't know much," Tonks shrugged. "Just know it's important."
As she led them past the Department of Magical Law Enforcement's welcome witch, and back towards the director's office, Harry tried to think of what the evidence Amelia Bones had obtained and how it might be connected to him. Less than a week earlier, he'd been involved in an incident on the Hogwarts Express. The train had been attacked by a large force of Death Eaters, and he'd been forced to kill some of them, including the much-hated Lucius Malfoy. Amelia had cleared him of any wrongdoing that Friday, however, so it couldn't be related to that.
Harry supposed it might be about Dolores Umbridge, but her conviction was more than eight months old, and she was currently at large with the Death Eaters. So was Draco Malfoy, who'd been suspended and then arrested for attacking him at Hogwarts the previous autumn. Those were really his only connections to the criminal world.
"Hello again," Amelia said as they walked into her office.
"Long time, no see," Katie said with a smile. Harry and Katie had had dinner with Sirius and Amelia the night before at Il Meglio, an Italian restaurant in Bergdorf, in Pottershire, Harry's estate.
"Sorry to drag you all out of bed," Amelia said. Harry rolled his eyes, as it was eleven o'clock in the morning. "But I thought you might want to see this." She gestured to a pensieve sitting on her desk. "It was delivered anonymously overnight, with this note."
She passed Harry a scrap of parchment that read, 'I'm telling you, because the old man won't.' The writing was jagged and dark, a man's hand. The penmanship looked familiar, though the note wasn't signed. Harry passed it to Katie.
"Don't worry," Amelia continued. "I'm sure that once you see the memories that were included, you'll have no trouble discerning who sent them. You've your wands?" They all nodded. Amelia went first, and then they all dove in to the collection of memories stored within the pensieve.
Harry found himself standing with the others in a hallway he recognized. It was the Hogs Head Pub, in Hogsmeade, though cleaner than he remembered it. It was very dark through the windows at the end of the hall. Rain lashed the window panes. Harry looked around. Amelia, Sirius, and Katie were there, as was a man who hadn't been with them.
"Snape!" Harry said. The sallow former potions professor was much younger. He was also seated near a door that was slightly ajar. Harry went over. It was indeed a much younger Severus Snape.
"He looks like I remember him from before James and Lily died," Sirius noted to Amelia. Harry approached them man, who he noticed had shifted from sitting idly to leaning towards the open door.
His interest piqued, Harry glanced through the crack, and saw Albus Dumbledore, late the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and current Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards and, perhaps more importantly for Harry, Headmaster of Hogwarts. Seated across from him was another person he knew fairly well: Sybill Trelawney, the current Divination professor at Hogwarts.
Harry felt Katie press up behind him to peek through the gap as well.
"We've not had a divination professor for some time," Dumbledore was saying. "It's not really the sort of thing you can teach, you see." While Harry thought what Dumbledore said correct, he still felt the man was being a bit condescending. "I mean… I… Are you alright, my dear?"
Harry glanced at Trelawney. While she normally looked a bit lost in the sauce, now she was sitting stock still and there was a glazed look on her face, as though she wasn't at home. When she spoke, her voice was devoid of emotion.
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches," she recited. "Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies..."
"Oi!" a voice down the hall shouted, drawing the attention of Harry, Katie, Sirius, and Snape. Harry instantly recognized Aberforth Dumbledore, the Headmaster's brother, and the keeper of the Hogs Head. He was hurrying up the last few stairs, heading for Snape. "What're you doin' there?" For all but Amelia, the door was forgotten as Aberforth arrived at Snape, who stood.
"Not that it's any of your business, but I'm awaiting my turn to interview," Snape said in a haughty tone.
"Everything that happens in this pub is my business," Aberforth snapped back. "Does interviewing mean listening at doors?"
"Is there a problem out here?" Albus Dumbledore asked. Harry's head snapped around, and he saw Dumbledore standing there in the doorway with a rather pleased looking Sibyll Trelawney.
"This one was listening at your door," Aberforth informed his brother, indicating Snape. Albus' countenance darkened.
"I see," was all Albus said. He glanced at the window beyond then back at Snape. "I'm sorry Mr. Snape, but it's rather late. We'll have to conduct our interview another time. I'll owl you."
"Guess you don't got that interview after all," Aberforth said smugly. "Best get on your way then."
"Fine," Snape snapped. He whirled, his black robes billowing around him, and stalked off towards the stairs. Harry caught a quick glance between the brothers before the memory faded, to be replaced with another.
When the smoke coalesced, Harry and the rest were stood on a hilltop at night in the dreary Scottish countryside. It was raining and the wind whistled through the nearby tree branches. Before them was Snape, and he looked supremely scared. Then Snape was struck with a disarming charm and dropped to his knees. His wand flew towards the man who'd arrived suddenly and cast the charm: Dumbledore.
"Don't kill me!" Snape pleaded.
"That was not my intention," Dumbledore replied calmly, casting a lumos with his wand as his robes were whipped by the wind. "Well, Severus? What message does Lord Voldemort have for me?"
"No… no message…" Snape promised, wringing his hands. "I'm here on my own account! I… I come with a warning – no, a request – please…" He looked crazed. His hair was blowing about, making him look wild. Around him, Harry and the others were unaffected, and watched with interest, though it was hard to hear. That was short-lived, though, as, with a flick of his wand, Dumbledore silenced the area around them. Though Harry could see leaves and branches were still moving around them, he could no longer hear the wind.
"What request could a Death Eater make of me?" Dumbledore asked patiently.
"The… the prophecy... the prediction... Trelawney..." Snape stuttered.
"Ah, yes," nodded Dumbledore. "How much did you relay to Lord Voldemort?"
"Everything… everything I heard!" blurted Snape. "That is why… it is for that reason… he thinks it means Lily Potter!" Harry started at the mention of his mother.
"The prophecy did not refer to a woman," Dumbledore noted. "It spoke of a boy born at the end of July…"
"You know what I mean!" Snape shot back. "He thinks it means her son, he is going to hunt her down… kill them all…" Harry was suddenly quite confused. Why did Snape care for his mother?
"If she means so much to you," Dumbledore said patiently, "surely Lord Voldemort will spare her? Could you not ask for mercy for the mother, in exchange for the son?"
"I have…" gasped Snape. "I have asked him…"
"You disgust me," said Dumbledore with the utmost contempt. Snape shrank back. "You do not care, then, about the deaths of her husband and child? They can die, as long as you have what you want?" Silence followed those questions, Snape unable or unwilling to answer. It was answer enough for Harry. It was clear that Snape had cared for his mother, but that didn't answer the why.
"Hide them all, then," Snape finally croaked. "Keep her… them… safe. Please."
"And what will you give me in return, Severus?" Dumbledore asked.
"In… in return?" Snape gaped at Dumbledore. After a long moment he said, "Anything."
"I want an unbreakable vow," Dumbledore said after a moment's consideration. "Your penance shall be to serve the light. Vow to act as my spy; to tell me what Lord Voldemort is doing." Snape stared at Dumbledore with a mix of defiance and hatred, but also hope.
"I'll do it," Snape said finally.
Then the memory changed again, the swirling patterns coalescing into solid shapes. Harry blinked and realized they were stood in the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts. Snape was sitting on one side of the desk and Dumbledore on the other. It was dark outside the windows, though there was no rain or wind this time. On the desk between them was an object Harry knew well: Tom Riddle's Diary. It had already been stabbed through with a basilisk fang and looked worse for wear.
"I can't believe Lucius would be so stupid," Snape sighed. "You're sure?"
"I examined the diary myself," Dumbledore said. "It was a horcrux. If Harry's to be believed, it was Tom Riddle's… Lord Voldemort's."
"How… how could Lucius not know what it was?" Snape asked in astonishment, leaning forward to pick up the book. He turned it over in his hands.
"I do not know what Lucius Malfoy thought about the diary," Dumbledore shrugged. "I do know that he apparently slipped it to Ginevra Weasley last summer in Diagon Alley. You are, however, correct, that someone as dark as Lord Malfoy should have known the diary was a horcrux if he'd had it in his possession for ten odd years."
"Then either he's an idiot, or he figured the Dark Lord wouldn't be coming back to claim it," Snape replied.
"I do not think Lord Malfoy an idiot," Dumbledore noted. "It would seem that he is banking on Lord Voldemort not returning for his property."
"You're not convinced, though," Snape said warily.
"I do not think that Lord Voldemort was foolish enough to entrust his one chance at eternal life to an underling as… ambitious as Lord Malfoy," Dumbledore opined.
"You think there are more?" Snape gasped, understanding Dumbledore's implied thought immediately.
"I think that Tom Riddle was extremely interested in living for a very long time," Dumbledore allowed. "I also think that he did not give much thought to the consequences of his actions, except insofar as they would advance his desires. Were he to have made more of these abominations, it is unlikely he would have cared overmuch about any negative side effects." Dumbledore looked at him. "Have you noticed any changes since last week?" It was vague, but Snape seemed to know what he was referring to.
"No," Snape said quickly, shaking his head slightly. "The Mark's as dark as ever."
"That would tend to lend credence to my hypothesis," Dumbledore pointed out.
"How many do you think he made?" Snape asked after a moment's consideration.
"I've no idea," Dumbledore allowed. "In school, Tom took Arithmancy, perhaps he made three…"
"Seven, or eleven," Snape finished. "I wouldn't think even the Dark Lord could make more than eleven."
"No, I do not suppose so," Dumbledore agreed. "The number and location of his various trinkets are, as of now, a mystery. I shall endeavour to learn more about them. I'm certain they are a key to destroying Lord Voldemort once and for all."
"More so than Potter?" Snape asked, astonished.
"Perhaps they are one and the same," Dumbledore replied sadly.
"You think Potter's a horcrux?" Snape marvelled. "Is that even possible?" Harry was confused. What did that mean?
"The signs are there," Dumbledore pointed out. "He has Lord Voldemort's ability with Parseltongue, he would get headaches last year around Quirinus, his scar has not faded with time…"
"I presume you'll have need of some darker books for your research," Snape said pointedly.
"Yes," Dumbledore nodded. "If you can see your way to borrowing some of Lord Malfoy's more illuminating tomes, I would be most grateful."
The scene faded out at that point, quickly shifting. They were back in the Headmaster's office, but it was light outside. Snape was walking in while Dumbledore was sat in his usual spot behind his desk.
"You wanted to see me?" Snape asked, sitting.
"Yes," Dumbledore replied. "It's about Harry."
"I've not yet begun the lessons," Snape said hurriedly. "I've been busy with that horrid woman." Harry snorted. It was funny to hear what the professors really thought about Dolores Umbridge.
"Those lessons will no longer be possible," Dumbledore informed him. "We shall have to shift our plans."
"Your plans," Snape corrected. "I think this is foolish in the extreme. The Dark Lord is far more powerful than Potter."
"I do not believe so," Dumbledore shook his head. "Nevertheless, things have changed. Harry has surrounded himself with friends who are too knowledgeable about our world: Miss Bell, Miss Bones, Sirius Black… Were you to even attempt it, Miss Bell would notice something wrong and Harry would consult with Sirius. He, I'm sure, knows enough about occlumency to know that you would be teaching Harry nothing of the sort. We would end up with you in Azkaban and I out of a job, perhaps more than one. That helps no one. No, better we are here in a position to be able to shape the future, and drive Harry towards his ultimate destiny."
"Was Black finding out not a concern before?" Snape snorted.
"For different reasons, Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger both understand little of our world," Dumbledore pointed out. "They would not have known enough about occlumency to give Harry cause to consult Sirius in the first place. Without that, there was only a small possibility of Harry reaching out. Now, however…" Dumbledore trailed off.
"The Dark Lord is still obsessed with the prophecy," Snape informed him. "He still doesn't know the second half…"
"And now it is doubtful he ever will," Dumbledore said. "The Dark Mark wards at the Ministry prevent most of his followers from even entering the building, much less forcing Harry to take the prophecy, even if his mind was weakened enough to believe it necessary."
"So, you no longer want to try to lure the Dark Lord to the Ministry?" Snape summarized.
"No," Dumbledore said. "He would never be so foolish as to try it now. However, the Ministry seems to have recovered its senses under Tiberius Ogden. Perhaps the Daily Prophet has as well. Do you think it possible to convince Lord Voldemort of the necessity to strike Azkaban in person? I doubt the Ministry would try to cover up Lord Voldemort's return should he attack there and free his followers."
"I don't think it should be too hard to convince him," Snape answered, rolling his eyes. "Most of his followers are residents there now, thanks to Potter and the rest. He'll practically have to attack it, if only to grow his numbers and regain some sort of initiative."
"Good," Dumbledore smiled. "The important thing is to get the people to believe Lord Voldemort is back."
"I thought the important thing was to convince Potter that his death was necessary to defeat the Dark Lord once and for all," Snape countered. Beside Harry, Katie gasped. Harry found himself glaring at Dumbledore, a fiery rage building inside of him. This man, if he hadn't lied to him, had at least, it would seem, plotted his death. He didn't know what to think.
"I must ruminate on how to approach that sticky question going forward," Dumbledore said with a grandfatherly smile. "Do not let it concern you. Focus all your energies on unmasking Voldemort to the public."
It was a clear dismissal, and as Snape rose to leave, the room dissipated and the smoke whirled about, eventually forming into a fancy parlour Harry had never seen before. He wasn't really paying attention, though, as he was still trying to process what Dumbledore had revealed in the previous memory.
"This is Fenton Hall," Sirius said, looking around. "The ancestral seat of the Averys. I visited several times as a boy."
"You're sure?" Amelia asked quickly.
"You don't forget a place like this," Sirius said, gesturing at the oversized portraits covering the wood panelling, and the green plaid curtains shot with real gold thread.
Harry finally looked up. There was a throne of sorts – actually a high-backed parlour chair placed on a magically raised section of the parquet floor – on which sat Voldemort himself. His grey skin, snake-like slits for a nose, and bald head were unmistakeable. Next to Harry, Katie shuddered at the sight. Around the room were gathered several high-ranking Death Eaters: Lucius Malfoy, his son, Draco, all three Lestranges, Snape, Avery, Nott, Selwyn, Rosier, Rowle, the Carrows, and others Harry didn't know. Voldemort was reading a copy of the Daily Prophet, and the others were waiting for… something.
"It would seem, Bella," Voldemort said in a reedy voice that no one but Harry expected, "that you are now single." The Lestranges all started at that. "According to this, your cousin has dissolved your marriage for breach of contract and reclaimed your dowry." Harry was surprised to see Bellatrix blanch at that statement. Apparently, so was Voldemort.
"Is there a problem?" Voldemort asked. "If you wish, I see no reason you can't simply remarry your husband."
"There might be, My Lord," Bellatrix said in a strangled voice. She turned to her husband. "Tell me there was enough there!" she demanded furiously.
"How should I know?" Rodolphus snapped back. "I've not been to Gringotts in fifteen years."
"You'd better pray there was," Bellatrix growled.
"What is the matter, Bella?" Voldemort asked, surprisingly kindly.
"My Lord," Bellatrix said, dropping to her knees as a supplicant. "The Lestranges were wealthy, but my dowry was vast. Between my marriage and my imprisonment, we spent freely to support your cause. With the dissolution of my marriage, my dowry needs repayment, but I'm unsure whether there were enough funds to do so."
"So, your cousin fails to reclaim the full amount," Voldemort observed. "I see no problem for you."
"If there isn't enough money to cover the debt, family heirlooms in the vault are transferred until the value equals the debt," Bellatrix explained. This would normally be of no moment to me, however, the cup which you entrusted to me was in my Gringotts vault for safekeeping. I fear it may be lost, My Lord."
Harry was surprised when Voldemort flew into an unmitigated rage. He fired a blasting curse at a wall, and followed it up with a crucio at Bellatrix. She dropped to the ground, flailing in pain. Around her, the others subconsciously backed away, watching with an odd detachment. It seemed to go on forever. Finally, Voldemort lifted the curse and Bellatrix curled up in a ball.
"I see I need to be more careful in the future," Voldemort said, glaring at everyone in the room, nostrils flaring. His eyes finally focused on Malfoy, who swallowed deeply. Harry could hear the gulp from the other side of the room. There was real fear on Malfoy's face. "You haven't decided to hide my diary in your Gringotts vault, have you Lucius?" Malfoy paled and shook his head. Voldemort smiled at that. "Is it safe?"
"It… I…" Malfoy stammered. "I have failed you, My Lord. Your diary was destroyed." The smile disappeared, and Voldemort shot to his feet.
"How?" Voldemort thundered in a dangerous voice.
"My… My Lord, Potter…" Malfoy tried to speak.
"How did Potter get it!?" Voldemort shouted. "It should've been nowhere near the brat!"
"I had an excellent plan…" Malfoy started, but he made the mistake of looking at Voldemort and lost his train of thought. "Hogwarts would… Mudbloods… It… It didn't… Potter ruined it." He looked quickly at his feet. By doing so, Malfoy missed Voldemort's next move.
Like lightning, his wand was out and he was casting the torture curse. Malfoy dropped like a marionette with its strings cut and he thrashed about on the floor. Harry couldn't smell when Malfoy voided his bowels, but eventually shit leaked through his clothes and his violent shaking left dark brown smears on the floor, which was already covered in piss. The torture seemed to last longer that it had for Bellatrix.
"That's three of my followers who I've entrusted items to who have failed me," Voldemort said in a tight voice, glaring at the others of his inner circle. "Young Mr. Flint is dead because of his failure. Bellatrix still has a chance to redeem herself for hers. She need only hunt down her cousin and reclaim my property. As for Lucius… It would seem his usefulness is nearing its end. According to the Daily Prophet his marriage has also been annulled. I wonder how much money he has left now? Is it enough to continue his usefulness to me? He'd better pray it is. Tell him so when he regains consciousness. Avery, remove him from my presence, and clean up the floor!"
The memory faded quickly after that, and Harry found himself back in Amelia's office with Katie and Sirius.
"Best take a seat," Amelia said, taking the pensieve off the desk and placing it on the credenza behind her. "There's a lot to unpack there."
"I guess that explains why Bella was looking for me when she attacked your house," Sirius observed to Amelia.
"Quite," Amelia agreed.
"I don't know where to start," Harry said, his mind still reeling. "Why does Dumbledore want me to die?"
"I think it has to go back to the discussion of horcruxes," Amelia said. "Did you catch the bit where he said you were one?" Harry nodded.
"So?" Harry asked. "What's a horcrux?"
"A horcrux is a soul container," Amelia replied. "It is created by preparing a vessel, murdering an innocent, splitting your soul, and driving the fractured soul piece into the vessel. So long as the vessel exists, the soul of the person whose soul fragment resides in the vessel is tied to this Earth. In other words, they cannot die."
"That explains Voldemort sticking out of Quirrell's head," Harry accepted. "But, how did he make me a horcrux? I mean, I killed him…"
"I'll have to look into it," Amelia allowed, "but off hand, I'd bet something went wrong. He didn't intend to make you a horcrux. He might not even know he did. It's something to have the Unspeakables look into. I'll set up an appointment for you so you can talk to them. They're really the experts. I'm sure they'd also like to study you to see what effect the horcrux has on you. I'll make sure it's not too intrusive."
"Thanks," Harry said, relieved he'd be getting some answers. "Does this mean I don't have to die?"
"I have no idea what that man is thinking," Amelia said, shaking her head. "The first time I saw that… Hell, this time, when I saw that, I wanted to go and… well, what I'd do to him wouldn't be pleasant. The Unspeakables will have a better idea of how to get that… thing, out of you."
"How do you get rid of horcruxes?" Katie asked.
"I'm not entirely sure," Amelia replied. "Apparently, they can be destroyed with basilisk venom, as Harry so aptly demonstrated. I've never run across one before. I actually had to do a bit of research before you arrived to even know what a horcrux was."
"That just leaves the questions of how many are there, where are they, and what are they," Harry pointed out.
"It sounds like two of them have already been destroyed," Sirius said. "If I'm lucky another is in my vault at Gringotts, and it's a cup of some sort. Shouldn't be too hard to find."
"I'm another," Harry said, helpfully.
"So that leaves how many more?" Katie asked.
"Another question for the Unspeakables," Amelia said. "I'll be having a long talk with them this afternoon. In fact, you should come."
"Us?" Harry asked. "Why do we need to be there? You've got my memories of the horcrux I destroyed, and the memories from Snape."
"Do you remember the first memory we watched, with Mr. Snape in the hallway?" Amelia asked. Harry nodded. "There's a prophecy. I listened to it in full. Based on the context, and other things Dumbledore said in other memories, I think the prophecy's about you."
"Snape said that's why Voldemort went after James and Lily as a baby!" Sirius recalled. "He was after Harry."
"Based on what's happened since, I'm almost certain you're correct," Amelia agreed. She turned back to Harry. "We can visit the Hall of Prophecy in the Department of Mysteries and listen to the prophecy from the orb where it's stored. Furthermore, we can destroy it so Voldemort can never get his hands on it."
-oooo-
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."
The eerie voice of Professor Trelawney faded away. Harry looked at the glowing prophecy orb. They were stood in row 97 in the Hall of Prophecy, surrounded by other orbs, some glowing and others dead.
"In most cases," said the Unspeakable standing with them, "I'd have you return it to the shelves. However, Madam Bones provided us with evidence that suggests that this particular prophecy might be sought by Tom Riddle. I believe she's correct. Therefore, I'd ask that, if you have no further use for the prophecy orb, you destroy it."
"How do I do that?" Harry asked. The Unspeakable mimed dropping the orb. Harry tossed the orb up slightly and let it fall past his hand, shattering on the ground. The five of them were treated to the prophecy again, in full, as the wispy white glowing cloud of magic dissipated.
"I'm surprised you knew that Tom Riddle is Voldemort," Harry observed after Sirius had vanished the broken glass.
"It is our job to know many things," the Unspeakable said evasively as he waved them from the aisle and towards the door.
"Do you know how to get rid of horcruxes?" Katie asked.
"Indeed," the Unspeakable replied. Harry couldn't see their face, though from the voice, he suspected it was a man. "To destroy it, a horcrux must be damaged beyond repair. Basilisk venom and fiendfyre are the two easiest ways. However, if you've access to it, any fire hot enough to melt it or burn it to ash would destroy it. As such, lava is another common method, if twice can be described as common. Only a handful of people have been stupid enough to actually create a horcrux, after all."
"And if I told you I were a horcrux…" Harry offered as he passed the Unspeakable on the way out the door and into the main room of the Department of Mysteries. It was a circle and every door looked the same.
"Hmm…" the Unspeakable paused. "I suppose… No. I shan't speculate without consulting with my compatriots. I shall investigate and get back to you." The man closed the door behind him, and the room spun. Harry couldn't tell which door was which.
"Tom Riddle made a number of horcruxes," Harry revealed. "At least four we know of. Two of those: a snake and a diary, have been destroyed. A cup and myself are also known."
"It would seem," the Unspeakable said slowly, "that… no. Again, I shall not speculate without consulting my colleagues. I'd not wish to mislead you on something so… momentous." The Unspeakable went to a seemingly random door and opened it, revealing the exit.
"Would you know of a way to tell how many there might be?" Katie asked. "Or how to find them?"
"I don't know the answer to those questions," the Unspeakable answered, as he ushered them out the door. "I can say that House Elves are good for more than finding a means to escape abusive relatives."
Harry blinked as the door closed behind them, leaving Katie, Amelia, Sirius, and himself standing in an otherwise empty hallway. He wasn't sure he'd heard that last bit properly.
"How did he know why Winky got me those trunks?" Harry wondered.
"Unspeakables know a lot of things," Amelia said. "They research arcane magics and apply magic and logic to solve problems. It's rumoured that their library is twice the size of Hogwarts'. Plus, you never know who's an Unspeakable, as they don't reveal their faces."
"Is there such a thing as a part-time Unspeakable?" Harry asked, trying to piece it together. "I mean, like shopkeeper by day, Unspeakable by night? Floo network administrator during the week and Unspeakable on the weekends?"
"I don't pretend to understand how they work," Amelia sighed. "I don't even know if it's the same Unspeakable that talks to me every time, but his voice always sounds the same, and he's the same height, so I believe so."
"That's crazy," Katie observed, shaking her head.
"So now what?" Harry asked, looking around.
"Now, we let the Unspeakables research and ruminate, and hopefully, they get back to us with answers to your questions," Amelia shrugged, turning to walk towards the lifts. "I, for one, need to get back to work. I think I've dedicated as much time as I can at the moment. Without supervision, Scrimgeour tends to get a bit… overzealous." The others followed.
"I'll see you later," Sirius said, looking around quickly before kissing her even quicker.
"I assume you can find your own ways out? Ta!" Amelia said, disappearing into a lift, whose doors quickly closed.
"Can you go to Gringotts and find that cup?" Harry asked Sirius.
"Sure," Sirius shrugged. "Did you want to come?" Harry looked to Katie, who shrugged.
-oooo-
"This is much more interesting," Katie said, as they stepped off the cart in front of a large door deep in the bowels of Gringotts. In the end, they'd elected to scout out the Potter vaults while Sirius was pawing through the Black vaults.
"It looks exactly the same," Harry pointed out, glancing at the door in front of him, and then down a few hundred meters to where Sirius was already opening his own vault.
"Yes," Katie allowed, "but this one's yours." Harry rolled his eyes and grinned at her logic.
Billhook, Harry's account manager, who had practically insisted on accompanying Harry on this trip, stepped forward and placed his palm the middle of the door. Harry watched in awe as the door simply melted away. The awe continued, when he peered into the vault itself.
In the centre of the vault were neatly stacked chests towering over them. The walls were lined with shelves. Some of them were crammed with artifacts, arms, armour, flatware in both silver and gold, fine china, and other valuables. Other shelves were empty.
"Must've been books there," Katie commented, seeing where Harry was looking.
"Dobby must've pulled them out when he went round looking to stock my library," Harry reasoned. He went over and opened one of the trunks in the middle of the room. It was hard finding one that wasn't part of a stack, but when he did, he gasped. It was full to the brim with gold galleons. He closed the lid and went to inspect what looked like wardrobes along another wall.
Opening them, he found them filled with robes and other clothes. There were also bed and table linens, blankets, and tapestries. Passing further into the vault, he saw the back of it. There were large racks on one half, and cabinets along the other. Reaching the cabinets first, he opened a drawer.
Gawking, he pulled up an intricate gold necklace laden with large finely cut rubies. In the same drawer were dozens of other pieces of jewellery. He opened another drawer and found more of the same. These were the Potter family jewels. The value of them was staggering.
Overwhelmed, Harry moved on, leaving Katie to dig, wide-eyed, through the treasures in the cabinets. Approaching the racks, he saw they were set back into the wall, and narrow, but quite tall. Each one was filled with… something, covered in a sheet.
Pulling one of the large rectangles out of a rack, he set it on the ground and lifted the sheet. He jumped back startled, and the frame of a portrait smacked against the rack behind it.
"I never!" a disgruntled woman scoffed from within. "That's quite a rude thing to do!" Off behind the portrait Katie snickered softly enough as to remain undetected, and went back to inspecting a pair of silver earrings with dark blue sapphires, leaving Harry to meet the portrait in peace.
"Sorry," Harry said sheepishly, lifting the portrait gently away from the rack. "You surprised me. Who're you?"
"Winifred Potter," the woman announced, "Though I was an Abbott before I married Henry."
"I'm Harry," he said, by way of introduction. "Are these all family portraits?"
"I can't say for certain," Winifred replied in a slightly warmer tone. "The last I remember, I was being pulled off the wall of the library in Potter House because they were going to fumigate. That was just after Flea and Mia died… 1981, I believe; sometime in August."
"Flea and Mia?" Harry asked, confused.
"Fleamont and Euphemia Potter," Winifred replied. "Are you James and Lily's Harry?" Harry nodded. "Where are they? You look awfully young to be here all by yourself."
"They died in October 1981," Harry said. "It's 1 July 1996 now."
"Oh, my word!" Winifred gasped. "How awful. I'm so sorry for your loss. Do you have any portraits of them?"
"I don't know," Harry said, shrugging. "You're the first one I've uncovered."
"Who raised you?" Winifred asked, confused. "Tell me it wasn't that cad, Sirius Black."
"No," Harry laughed, "Though I wish it had been. He went to jail for a long time, wrongly accused of their deaths. I was placed with my Aunt Petunia and her husband."
"Lily's muggle sister?" Winifred nearly choked. "What a thing! Are you still with them?"
"Not since last summer," Harry smiled. "I'm an emancipated minor now, and head of House Potter." He held up his ring.
"Are you at Potter House, then?" Winifred asked hopefully.
"I'm at a Potter House," Harry replied evasively, "but not Severnside."
"Ah! The Godric's Hollow house," Winifred nodded knowingly.
"Nope," Harry grinned. "Not there either. It's a new place. I'll tell you and all the other portraits all about it when I take you there and put you on my walls. I can't wait to find out more about my family. Neville Longbottom can only tell me so much."
"Well, then," Winifred said in a commanding tone. "What are you waiting for? I'd like to be reunited with my husband. It's been fifteen years."
"Dobby!" Harry called.