Merit and Inheritance
Chapter Seventeen
His Usual Resourceful Self
"Early lunch," Harry declared when he and Pansy reached the breakfast room. "Want to wash up?"
"Thanks," said Pansy. She pulled a dagger out of a pocket in her robe, some of Harry's blood still showing on the blade.
"I picked it up when Marcella was out," Pansy explained.
Harry motioned for the dagger. Pansy handed it over.
"Wand this," Harry said, holding it out on his flat hand. "Everything you can think of."
Pansy's wand started vibrating as soon as it got close to the dagger.
"Revelio," said Pansy. "Something."
"Nothing to see, though," said Harry. "In the cup. No, wait, Kreacher!"
"Kreacher is here, Master," said the elf.
"Be careful with this dagger, but I need it well-scrubbed, then bring it back," Harry said before observing, "No need to give them a blood sample."
Harry turned back to Pansy.
"You know, I think that belongs to you now, if the same rule applies to daggers as wands."
Pansy looked disinterested.
"What's next?" she asked.
"Dagger in the cup, then the cup to the garden," said Harry. "Then we wait."
"For what?"
"For whatever or whomever wanders along," said Harry.
Kreacher returned with the dagger, freshly-washed and shining like new. Harry held it up and turned it over and over in the sunshine, looking for traces of blood. Satisfied there was nothing of himself left behind, he dropped the dagger in the cup and headed for the garden.
"Coming?" Harry asked.
"Of course," Pansy said.
Harry led the way out the back door of the manor. Looking at the overgrown condition, he thought again about exterior maintenance. He had to bring Mort and Daisy out, just as soon as all his other distractions calmed down.
"Here is good," Harry said, handing the cup to Pansy.
Harry leveled off some ground with his wand. Then he thought some crushed stone might look nice, so he conjured some and spread it in a circle. He was about to have Pansy put the cup down in the center when it occurred to him a column would add panache and really set off the cup. It was an athletic award, after all, and deserved a little respect. Harry conjured the base and a short Ionic column, ending about four feet above the crushed stone.
"There you go," he said, and Pansy placed the cup with all of the artifacts on top.
"What are you going to do about Romilda, Harry?" Pansy asked. "We can't just keep her in the dungeon."
"That's true," said Harry. "Let's see."
Harry applied a sticking charm to the base of the trophy, fixing it to the column. Then he tapped his wand to the two handles on the cup.
"That ought to slow them down, assuming there is anyone left to come looking. As for Romilda, does anything about Romilda, Marcella and Our Place strike you as out of sorts? Are there any unexplained threads running through that situation that make you think perhaps we don't have all we need to know? I'd really like to get at the truth, much as I'd also like to see Romilda safe and free of her pursuers."
"Actually," Pansy began, then stopped.
"Exactly," said Harry. "Just, what? That's it, isn't it?"
"I wonder if the Bergs know she's pregnant?" Pansy asked.
"Would that make Marcella even more determined to kill her? Jealousy over Derek fathering a child with another woman?" Harry asked.
"Could be," said Pansy.
"If the title and family leadership is handed down father to son, another son of the old baron could present a succession problem," said Harry. "Do you remember anything about the line of succession from your reading?"
"No, there isn't that level of detail in the references I checked," said Pansy. "That isn't to say there aren't some better sources somewhere, waiting to be found."
Harry stared out across the garden to the nearby fields. What was he missing?
Back in the breakfast room, Harry put two sandwiches and two butterbeers on opposite sides of the table and pulled out a chair for Pansy. He didn't think he would be getting to the bottom of the mystery of what he was missing by thinking about it until his brain overheated.
"Where did you learn that slick little punch?" Harry asked.
"You want to know where I learned to fight dirty?" Pansy asked right back.
Harry stopped chewing and stared at Pansy. That rabbit punch had kept intruding on his thoughts ever since Pansy's takedown of Marcella. Harry saw something in Pansy's face—he'd hit a nerve.
"Necessity, the mother of invention," said Pansy. "A paperweight to the side of one of your brother wizard's head. It was obviously very effective, so I wanted to know exactly what I'd done, in case I needed it again. As soon as I'd crawled out from under him and made my way back to civilization, it made sense to read up on details. Marcella was the first time I used it intentionally. Merlin help me, may it be the last."
Harry watched as Pansy took another bite of her sandwich and started to chew. He looked for signs of distress, but Pansy seemed to be fine with her dirty fighting and the defense she had mounted for Romilda and himself.
"Marcella pulling that knife and cutting people up was sufficient justification, in my view," said Pansy. She took a pull on her butterbeer, looking Harry straight in the eye.
"You don't hear me complaining," said Harry. "Look, there's something else I need to do."
Harry put his sandwich down and drew his wand. He took a moment to think, held his wand out in front of himself, and cast his patronus.
"Message for Hermione Granger," Harry said. "Hermione, I need to talk to you as soon as possible. Can you get back to me? I'm at Potter Manor."
The stag paused, as if it was waiting for further instructions, then pivoted and sprinted toward the garden.
"Do you have any ideas about getting your prisoners back to their valley?" Pansy asked.
"I do," said Harry. "Could you look at a map and point out a decent place to drop them off? Someplace they ought to recognize. Then they can get themselves on back home."
"Sure," said Pansy. "I'll do better if you give me an hour or two. Pop back to the Ministry, do a little reading in the library."
"Uh-huh," Harry said. "Go ahead, as soon as you're finished. I'll stay here and watch the cup."
Within a few minutes Pansy had left for London and Harry took a position before a window in the breakfast room. He kept the windows dim so his parents could sleep. They'd earned it. What's more, they kept earning it. Lily's very useful and expert advice saved him hours of work identifying the spell embedded in Romilda Vane Berg's wedding ring.
Harry could have used a nap himself, but he wanted to be alert if anyone apparated in to inspect the cup. He might have to react quickly, even if the charms worked as intended.
Harry's stag returned shortly after Pansy left, bringing a message from Hermione.
"Use the floo in the outer office, Harry. I'll be waiting."
"Convenient," thought Harry, crossing the hall from the breakfast room to a butler's pantry that had a small fireplace. In no time he had connected with Hermione at the Ministry.
"Can you come to Potter Manor? I'm a little tied up out here and there's something I need to discuss with you, soon," he said. Harry didn't want to get into more detail in a floo call, and it wasn't long before he heard the whoosh of someone arriving in the main salon.
"Out here," Harry shouted, reluctant to leave his observation post.
"Why all the Mister Mysterio?" Hermione asked when she arrived.
"Out there," Harry said, pointing at the garden. "There is a collection of artifacts in that cup. Some have enchantments, I'm not sure just what, but there could be a trace on one or more. I just want to watch and see if anyone shows up looking for one of the objects, or the owner."
"Got yourself into something, again?" Hermione asked.
"Just about done with it," Harry said, before adding, "I think."
"So, what did you want to talk about?"
Harry related a heavily-edited version of his visit to the cave, his invitation to Regulus Black to return to London, and the promise to let Regulus rejoin Sirius.
"Are you sure it is Regulus?" Hermione asked.
"Kreacher says it is," said Harry. "The infieri is wearing Regulus' signet, a smaller one of these."
He waved his hand, wiggling his fingers, to indicate Harry's own Black signet.
Hermione asked the logical follow-up.
"How are you going to get Regulus and Sirius back together?"
Harry laid out his idea.
"Harry, I don't know," said Hermione. "That is completely unknown territory. What if there were some untoward reaction? Catastrophic?"
"Anything is possible, but we both saw Sirius' last moments," said Harry. "Completely peaceful. Just stepping through."
Hermione sat, pinching her lower lip between her fingers, staring out into space.
"When?" she asked.
"As soon as possible," said Harry. "Tonight. Whenever things quiet down. Hermione, I'm prepared to do this on my own, but I doubt I could get there without your help. My access level isn't that high."
"I really don't know, Harry," said Hermione. "Still, you don't want to set off a ward and get caught with an infieri, on your own in the Department of Mysteries after hours. You might have to answer a question or two."
Hermione's style of humor, looping around to come to the punchline from the rear, always made her statements far funnier, to Harry, than she meant them. He was looking at her, laughing, when he heard the pop of someone's apparition, coming from the direction of the garden. Harry sprang to his feet, drawing his wand as he stood.
"Pansy," he said, opening up the door.
Pansy came in and saw Hermione. They'd never really warmed to one another, even after the final battle. The majority of witches and wizards shook the war off, some sooner than others. They resolved to make their magical community work, which meant everyone had to have a place and be welcome to contribute to the common enterprise. Pansy and Hermione observed the niceties. They just couldn't really like one another, and that was the truth.
"Hermione."
"Pansy."
"What a surprise," said Pansy.
"So nice to see you again," returned Hermione.
Both turned to Harry, as if to ask, "Get me out of this."
"Hermione and I were discussing Regulus," Harry began. "Did you get a destination in Switzerland, or Italy?"
Pansy looked at Hermione.
"It's fine," Harry said.
Pansy didn't look like she was very confident but Harry had given his permission so she went ahead.
"Two good spots, one on the Swiss side, one in Italy. Ramosch and Venosta. You really ought to look at a vacation over there, Harry. High valleys, snowy peaks, cuisine to die for."
"Just what I need," Harry said. "What's your preference?"
"Not a lot of difference. They ought to be able to navigate back home from either one," Pansy said.
Harry stared out at the garden. He caught himself in a reverie. Was he subconsciously willing a Berg, or a Berg minion, to materialize in the garden so he could capture them for some more interrogation?
"Let's go with the Swiss side," said Harry. "Two portkeys. Charge them to me. No, let's pay with galleons. Up front. Have you got enough in your till?"
"There ought to be enough," said Pansy. "When?"
"An hour after you get them," Harry said. "You'll have to come straight back."
Pansy looked at Harry, then Hermione, then back to Harry. She nodded and left for the salon, a stop at Potter and Associates and the magical travel agency in London.
Hermione looked at Harry, who looked back.
"Hermione?" Harry said.
"What was that all about?"
"I'm not going to say right this minute," said Harry. "Can I contact you when I'm ready to bring Regulus?"
"Why not?" asked Hermione. "If I don't go with you, you're liable to try breaking in and then you'll be obliged to answer those questions I mentioned."
"Great!" said Harry. "Hope to see you later this evening!"
When Hermione left Harry continued to watch the cup on the pedestal. The longer he sat the more strongly he believed he had all the available Berg minions downstairs in his collection. That would be the first break they'd had since Dieter showed up in Diagon Alley.