Chapter 71: Choice and Consequence
How could you think of anything to say here? You couldn't… and Albus would've been a fool if he could. It wasn't supposed to be this hard… yet here it was… just one more innocent life taken because of Tom and his war.
He could only stand there and watch as Harry knelt down next to the little elf's body, continuing to say Dobby's name over and over, though he must've known that there was nothing else that he could do for him. Albus slowly turned away with a shake of his head, suddenly reminded of another time that Harry called desperately for someone else to come back though they could not return.
But he also knew that if Dobby had to go, he would've been happy to leave this world with Harry near. He was his friend and he wasn't alone at the end… the fact that his last words were Harry's name clearly spoke that much.
Harry was in a state of shock, he didn't realize how the others were all gathering around him, staring at him and Dobby. Finally, he looked up, vaguely aware of their presence before he asked, "Hermione… where is she?"
Oh, Albus was hoping that she was alright, and he felt knots of worry still tying in his stomach. It wasn't until he heard Bill confirm that she was inside and reassured that she would be alright, did those knots loosen.
Harry continued to stare at Dobby before he finally reached out and numbly pulled the knife from his chest, no longer having to worry about causing him pain. Dean carried Griphook—who was barely conscious—into the house as Fleur came running out to help in any way that she could; while Harry laid Dobby out in front of him before he pulled off his own jacket and covered the elf with it like a blanket as Bill was questioning them all about what happened.
Albus checked at Malfoy Manor, checking on Draco and the others. Oh, Tom was enraged that they let Harry escape from right under their noses in their own home. His punishment was severe and he was making sure that they all suffered dearly for their failure.
Unable to watch, he turned back to Shell Cottage, to where Harry was speaking again.
"I want to do it properly," he said firmly, "Not by magic. Have you got a spade?"
Albus smiled sadly as Bill nodded in understanding and went to get one as well as offering a place to bury Dobby. It just felt right. Dobby worked his whole life… maybe that was why Harry felt he should work for this. Better than quickly getting it over with and pretending that Dobby never existed. He couldn't help but smile a little at the kindness towards the elf that Harry had, once more grateful that those years with the Dursleys had not poisoned him and hardened his heart.
After finding a place at the end of the garden between some bushes, Harry started to dig. He would wince from time to time, and he knew that it was his scar that was doing it. Yet there seemed to be something different about it. It didn't seem to bother him nearly as much as it did in the past. Albus had wondered about that…
Was it possible that Harry was able to finally learn to block Voldemort out? But how? He was never able to learn how to close his…? But suddenly it hit him. Watching Harry continue to dig, the grief-stricken look on his face, it told him everything. All young wizards are able to perform magic without a wand. Their magic is linked to their emotions, the more they feel, the more power is released. Normally, that stops when they grow older and they get their wands, but with Harry he had been able to use wandless magic even long after he bought his wand.
His magic was still connected to his feelings even though he's of age. Harry cannot disconnect his mind from his emotions for the two were one and the same. Just like how he was able to force Tom out of his mind nearly two years ago at the Ministry, it was his feelings of love and lost that protected him from Tom's influence.
Like always, this was the greatest difference between Harry and Voldemort. For Harry was something that Tom could never hope to understand.
He knew that feeling of crushing guilt and sorrow, having been through that himself. Harry blames himself for Dobby's death just as Albus blamed—blames—himself for Ariana. When he realized this, he felt light-headed, almost sick at how similar the situations were. Though he was glad to know that Harry no longer seemed interested with the Hallows, he wished that it hadn't had to happen like how it did.
There was much to discuss after what was said in Malfoy Manor, but now wasn't the time.
He only watched as his mind continued to think about all that had happened. Dobby is gone… as is Grindelwald… and now Tom knows where the Elder Wand is. Wormtail is now forever lost in this mist and the thought saddened him greatly. He had known that Harry spared his life, which had given him a life debt, something that could never go away.
It just wasn't worth it. He hoped that Peter would one day find a sense of remorse in him for his selfish actions.
Ron and Dean Thomas soon came out towards him, with Harry barely glancing up as he asked, "How's Hermione?"
"Better," said Ron. "Fleur's looking after her."
Thank goodness. He was sure that, despite all Molly's registration of Fleur, she would take good care of her. He had a feeling that Fleur was more like Molly than either of them cared to admit. Maybe that was why they butted heads so often.
Ron and Dean both had spades in their hands as they started to help him dig a deep hole, just big enough for Dobby. Once it was done, Harry climbed out and wrapped the elf tighter in his jacket as the others offered up more pairs of clothing for him. Ron had pulled off his own shoes and socks so that he could put them on Dobby's feet, which caused a pang of sadness inside him. Dobby always did like socks… they were his favorite.
Dean pulled out a woolen hat for him, which Harry took and placed on Dobby's head so that his bat-like ears were covered.
"We should close his eyes," Luna spoke up and he looked up to see Bill was there along with Fleur, Hermione, and Luna. Hermione was deathly pale and seemed shaky on her feet—Albus frowned a little, worried that she should really be inside and resting. She had been ruthlessly tortured, and who knows just what it could've done to her.
But he also knew that there was no way that she wouldn't be there for Dobby…
As she reached them, it was Ron who was there first, wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulders as Luna went straight to Harry and Dobby. She bent down next to Dobby and very gently closed his glassy eyes.
"There," she said softly. "Now he could be sleeping."
She was as kind as she was wise. And Albus watched as Harry gently placed Dobby into the grave, carefully arranging his limbs so that Dobby truly did look like he was merely resting. Which he was if you thought about it. The dead were still here, always… simply lurking out of sight, that's all.
Albus smiled a little at the elf's body, thinking about his own funeral as well. He truly believed that Dobby deserved a grander funeral than he had gotten. But also, Albus would've preferred this one as well… for he was surrounded by people who cared about him and will never forget his sacrifice. Whereas he, himself, also had those from the Ministry who were only there because it was the proper thing to do.
But he really had no complaints as he thought about how many friends and students—old and new—came as well. And especially his little brother…
He was truly touched for that. Though he wasn't sure just how much Aberforth truly wanted to be there.
"I think we ought to say something," piped up Luna. "I'll go first, shall I?"
Albus watched respectfully as she stood up and spoke everything that she was feeling. Something else that was far superior to his own funeral… for these words were spoken from the heart and she meant every word rather than a speech that had been a formally prepared for this.
"Thank you so much Dobby for rescuing me from that cellar," Luna said. "It's so unfair that you had to die when you were so good and brave. I'll always remember what you did for us. I hope you're happy now."
"Thank you, Luna," Albus said. "I'm sure that Dobby is happy as well."
Luna looked to Ron, who looked awkward and gulped down in a chocked voice, "Yeah… thanks Dobby."
"Thanks," muttered Dean, rubbing his eyes. Bill and Fleur both looked on as Hermione shook with quiet sobs as everyone looked to Harry, wondering what he wanted to say.
But Harry didn't look like he could say anything for a moment before he finally spoke up all that he could managed.
"Goodbye Dobby," he said.
It seemed that Luna had said everything for them as Bill raised up his wand. The pile of earth next to the grave rose up into the air and fell upon the grave, creating a neat mound that marked the grave. Everyone just looked at it for some time, no one saying anything until Hermione was continuing to shake where she stood and Fleur put comforting hands around her to steady her, gently informing her that she should come in and rest.
Harry agreed with the others that they should go inside, but quietly asked if he could stay here alone for a moment. Which they agreed as some of them gave gentle pats on the back before they went back towards the cottage, leaving Harry next to the grave.
Albus watched as he went looking around for a large, smooth stone near the edge of the flower beds and picked one up. Placing it at the head of the grave, he pulled out the two wands that he had wrestled from Draco before. It was only at the sight of them did Albus remember just what happened and he shook his head at the irony of the Elder Wand.
Even though Tom was now heading straight towards where it was, Harry had gotten to it first.
Using one of the wands, Harry carved some words into the stone:
HERE LIES DOBBY, A FREE ELF.
He was truly a kind and gentle person. If there was one thing he was sure of in this world it was that much. And Albus knew that Dobby would've felt honored by Harry being the one to do this for him. Harry looked long and hard at the grave before he finally turned and walked back to the house, and Albus thought that it was almost unnerving by the rush of understanding that was over his face.
It seemed as though he was finally beginning to see clearely…
But the question remained… what path will he choose? And what will he give up in exchange for it?
When he entered, Harry stood in the doorway, listening, as Bill was talking to the others.
"…lucky that Ginny's on holiday. If she'd been at Hogwarts they could have taken her before we reached her. Now we know she's safe too."
Oh, that is a relief… he didn't know what Harry would do if something were to happen to her.
Bill heard him and looked up before he went on, "I've been getting them all out of the Burrow. Moved them to Muriel's. The Death Eaters know Ron's with you now, they're bound to target the family –don't apologize," he added at the sight of Harry's expression. "It was always a matter of time, Dad's been saying so for months. We're the biggest blood traitor family there is."
It was just a matter of time… everyone knew the Weasley's standing in this war and they are fighting for what they believe in. They truly are the biggest family of blood traitors out there and are proud of it.
"How are they protected?" asked Harry at once, worry in his face.
"Fidelius Charm," Bill told him. "Dad's Secret-Keeper. And we've done it on this cottage too; I'm Secret-Keeper here. None of us can go to work, but that's hardly the most important thing now."
Yes. Their lives were much more important than going to work at the moment. And with all the methods that they went through, this should keep them safe… at least for now.
"Once Ollivander and Griphook are well enough, we'll move them to Muriel's too," Bill went on. "There isn't much room here, but she's got plenty. Griphook's legs are on the mend. Fleur's given him Skele-Gro-we could probably move them in an hour or—"
"No," Harry said and Bill looked startled. "I need both of them here. I need to talk to them. It's important."
Albus looked at him from the corner of his eyes. Now, Ollivander… that was clear. Harry was going to ask him about the Elder Wand and maybe even about Tom's wand. As for Griphook, it seemed like he had the same idea that he had.
But what he was most fascinated about was the authority and conviction in his voice. As if he was just sure beyond the shadow of a doubt of what it was that he was supposed to be doing. He wasn't the only one who heard that, everyone was looking at him with a mixture of surprise and even a slight bit of awe.
"I'm going to wash," Harry told Bill as he stared down at his blood and mud covered hands, "Then I'll need to see them, straight away."
Albus stood close-by as he watched Harry staring out the window as he cleaned himself up, just staring outside the window over the sink with a faraway look. He knew that Harry wasn't really looking at the sunrise, more focused on what was going on inside his head.
He smiled gently as he pressed his hands together as if in prayer, just continuing to look at Harry over the tips of his fingers as he knew that Harry was making his choice here and now. And Albus had complete faith in him that he would make the right choice.
He gave Ron the Deluminator because he knew that he would always want to find his way back to his friends… and he knew that there had to be some hint of remorse inside Peter… he was only human after all. As for Harry…
He knew him more than he cared to admit. He understood Harry for he was much like how he was when he was that age. Reckless… hot-headed…
But at least Harry knew the difference of what was right and wrong. He trusted Harry completely to make the right choice in the end, yet his greatest fear was that Harry would make the same mistakes that he had in the end. He wanted Harry to know, but to figure out what the right way was for him in the end.
He knew for a fact that Harry was one to rely on his instincts, that he always felt better doing something… to take action… keep moving. Harry didn't want to be like that because he wanted to, but because he felt that he had to. However this was the reason that he didn't tell him from the start for he wished to stop Harry from acting rashly…
He wanted Harry to choose his own way; that was why he chose to make it so hard…
After several long minutes he turned and walked deeper into the house, to the foot of the stairs where Bill and Fleur were waiting for him.
"I need to speak to Griphook and Ollivander," Harry said. Clearly, Fleur didn't think that was a good enough excuse.
"No," she said. "You will 'ave to wait, 'Arry. Zey are both too tired –"
"I'm sorry," he told her "but it can't wait. I need to talk to them now. Privately – and separately. It's urgent."
"Harry, what the hell's going on?" Bill asked firmly, "You turn up here with a dead house-elf and a half-conscious goblin, Hermione looks as though she's been tortured, and Ron's just refused to tell me anything –"
Harry looked sorely tempted to tell them, but he shook his head.
"We can't tell you what we're doing," he told them apologetically. "You're in the Order, Bill, you know Dumbledore left us a mission. We're not supposed to talk about it to anyone else."
Fleur wasn't at all happy about this, but Bill just looked at him, as if trying to figure out what the right thing to do was as well. Finally, he asked, "All right. Who do you want to talk to first?"
Ahh… that was interesting. Even after seeing the condition that the others were in, he was allowing Harry to give orders without any kind of explanation in his own house. Harry hesitated for a moment, and Albus could see the fight going on inside him as he had to make his choice here and now.
Albus felt his hands clench tightly, his heart hammering inside him…
Hallows… or Horcruxes…?
"Griphook," Harry said at last. "I'll speak to Griphook first."
A feeling of warm relief went through him as he smiled. And he knew how hard this choice was to make for he knew personally how hard it was to give up such tempting objects.
But Harry had taken the first step, and already having surpassed him in one way.
"Up here, then," said Bill, and he led him up the stairs before Harry realized that he was missing something. He turned back to see that Ron and Hermione were watching from the doorway of the sitting room, skulking there and expecting that he wouldn't want them there.
"I need you two as well!" Harry called and they moved out at once, looking relieved that he didn't forget them. He wouldn't even think about leaving them out of this, not after making a decision that was so important. He needed them now more than ever.
As they climbed the stairs up to him, Harry turned right to Hermione and asked worriedly, "How are you? You were amazing – coming up with that story when she was hurting you like that –"
Yes, she truly was. He knew how hard it could be to think rationally when… he was amazed that she had the presence of mind for her to stick to that story when she was being tortured.
Hermione gave him a weak smile as Ron pulled her in tightly for a hug.
"What are we doing now, Harry?" he asked.
"You'll see," he told them. "Come on."
Albus followed after them as Bill led them up the stairs and onto a small landing where there were a few doors off to the side. Bill led them to one of the room which had a beautiful view of the sea, and told them to wait here as he got Griphook. Harry moved to the window and turned his back onto it, his arms folded as he became lost in thought again.
Albus thought that he looked impressive like that, the light shining just behind him as Hermione sat next to him with Ron sat on the arm of that chair, not wanting to leave her side and seemed keen on keeping her in his sights.
Bill appeared soon enough, carrying Griphook and set him down very carefully on the bed. Griphook grunted a weak thanks before Bill left, closing the door so that they were alone.
"I'm sorry to take you out of bed," Harry apologized to him. "How are your legs?"
"Painful," Griphook said, still holding onto the sword as he looked at Harry with a very curious look. "But mending."
Albus thought he knew why he was looking at Harry like that. Harry had impressed him. And he smiled, knowing that really wasn't too surprising if you thought it over. One of the young man's many gifts…
"You probably don't remember –" Harry began.
"—that I was the goblin who showed you to your vault, the first time you ever visited Gringotts?" said Griphook. "I remember, Harry Potter. Even amongst goblins, you are very famous."
Ah… what were the odds of that? Though it's not too surprising that goblins would know about him too. They don't deal with wizards unless it's about their vaults. It is good that you started the conversation off like this. Griphook, would be further impressed that Harry had remembered him… must wizards would not have done so.
The too looked at each other, sizing the other up, and trying to figure the other out. It was always very tricky to deal with goblins seeing how they rarely trust anyone. Yet it was Griphook who broke the silence first.
"You buried the elf," he said acrimoniously. "I watched you from the window of the bedroom next door."
"Yes," said Harry defensively as Griphook continued to look at him suspiciously.
"You are an unusual wizard, Harry Potter," he informed him.
Something that they all knew already…
"In what way?" asked Harry, rubbing his scar, meaning that it was still hurting.
"You dug the grave," Griphook reminded him.
"So?" Harry asked and Griphook did not answer, as if he expected him to already know the answer. Albus smiled again, knowing that Harry didn't even realize how unique he was. He also ended up showing Griphook by showing him that he cared about other creatures. He's just shocked that he would ever met any wizard who would do something like that… for an elf.
"Griphook, I need to ask –" Harry started before Griphook interrupted again.
"You also rescued a goblin," he stated.
"What?"
"You brought me here. Saved me," Griphook informed him.
"Well, I take it you're not sorry?" said Harry a little impatiently.
"He's thanking you, Harry… in his own way," Albus explained.
"No, Harry Potter," said Griphook, and with one finger he twisted the thin black beard upon his chin, "but you are a very odd wizard."
"Right," said Harry, and he sounded more annoyed than anything at the moment. "Well, I need some help, Griphook, and you can give it to me."
Griphook just continued to look at Harry like he had never seen anything like him, trying to figure out just who or maybe—what he was. Harry took a deep breath and just came right out and told him what it was that he needed.
"I need to break into a Gringotts vault."
You think that he could've said that a little better. The words just sort of blurted out of him, and everyone was staring at him as if he had gone mad. Albus didn't want him to go, after all, that bank was one of the safest places in the world to hide something. It would be even worse than breaking into the Ministry, for he could be caught so easily… too easily. But with what was at stake, what other choice was there?
"Harry…" Hermione began, but Griphook cut her off.
He sat up a little on the bed as he repeated, "Break into a Gringotts vault? It is impossible."
Maybe not if you have a goblin working with you, telling you all the secrets and defenses. Not that they'll get it unless they make it worth Griphook's wile…
"No, it isn't," Ron contradicted him. "It's been done."
Not a wise thing to say. Even though Griphook was no longer working at Gringotts, the thought of wizard breaking into that place was as good as an insult to him.
"Yeah," said Harry. "The same day I first met you, Griphook. My birthday, seven years ago."
"The vault in question was empty at the time," Griphook snapped back, "Its protection was minimal."
"Well, the vault we need to get into isn't empty, and I'm guessing its protection will be pretty powerful," said Harry. "It belongs to the Lestranges."
That had to be one of the most heavily guarded places in that entire building. But the thought of someone having been inside her vault scared Bellatrix so badly that she delayed the idea of turning Harry over to her master in fear of being punished. Ron and Hermione were both staring at each other in shock, and he could see that it was dawning on their faces what Harry was thinking as well.
"You have no chance," Griphook stated. "No chance at all. If you seek beneath our floors, a treasure that was never yours –"
"Thief, you have been warned, beware – yeah, I know, I remember," Harry recited. "But I'm not trying to get myself any treasure, I'm not trying to take anything for personal gain. Can you believe that?"
Probably one of only the few people who would believe of that. Griphook had seen what kind of person that Harry was, and he had to know that Harry was telling the truth, that he wouldn't be asking about this if there wasn't a good reason.
"If there was a wizard of whom I would believe that they did not seek personal gain," said Griphook finally, "it would be you, Harry Potter."
Now there was a shock… Harry had a chance of Griphook helping him, but this was a great deal of progress in just a short time. Not that Griphook trusted Harry… nor should the goblin be trusted himself.
"Goblins and elves are not used to the protection or the respect that you have shown this night. Not from wand-carriers," Griphook went on.
"Wand-carriers," repeated Harry in confusion.
Wizards. It's what were are called by all creatures that an able to do magic but unable to use wands.
"The right to carry a wand," said the goblin quietly, "has long been contested between wizards and goblins."
True, but it's not like Goblins need wands to use magic. But that's not the point at the moment.
"Well, goblins can do magic without wands," said Ron and Albus was shaking his head, silently hoping that Ron would be quiet. They were trying to get him on their side, now wasn't the time to argue that point.
"That is immaterial!" Griphook snapped. "Wizards refuse to share the secrets of wand-lore with other magical beings, they deny us the possibility of extending our powers!"
"Well, goblins won't share any of their magic either," said Ron. "You won't tell us how to make swords and armor the way you do. Goblins know how to work metal in a way wizards have never –"
Ron, do you think it's going to help get Griphook to agree to help you by arguing about this? Though he at least admitted that goblins were better than wizards at something. It could've been much worse, but he really needed to stop making it worse.
Thankfully, Harry seemed to guess this as well, for he noticed that Griphook was turning red in anger.
"It doesn't matter," he said loudly. "This isn't about wizards versus goblins or any other sort of magical creature –"
Griphook gave a nasty laugh as he demanded, "But it is, it is precisely that! As the Dark Lord becomes ever more powerful, your race is set still more firmly above mine! Gringotts falls under Wizarding rule, house-elves are slaughtered, and who amongst the wand-carriers protests?"
"We do!" Hermione cried out as she sat up in her seat, her energy coming back despite her frail state. "We protest! And I'm hunted quite as much as any goblin or elf, Griphook! I'm a Mudblood!"
Hermione… you are the brightest witch of your age, and you shouldn't be calling yourself such a foul name. You are better than some ridiculous brand.
"Don't call yourself –" Ron muttered.
"Why shouldn't I?" Hermione demanded of him. "Mudblood, and proud of it! I've got no higher position under this new order than you have, Griphook! It was me they chose to torture, back at the Malfoys!"
Albus smiled a little as he shook his head. A fair point, though he only wished that she didn't say such a thing about herself. His heart ached painfully at the sight of her pulling her borrowed dressing gown down a little so that they could see the cut from Bellatrix's knife and anger boiled inside him at the memory.
"Did you know that it was Harry who set Dobby free? Did you know that we've wanted elves to be freed for years?" she asked, ignoring Ron who was fidgeting a little at those words. "You can't want You-Know-Who defeated more than we do, Griphook!"
Oh, he can't even begin to imagine. So long as Tom was in this world, then no one would ever know a moment's peace.
This time Griphook gazed at Hermione much like how he had been looking at Harry, struck by her honesty. He then asked, "What do you seek within the Lestranges' vault? The sword that lies inside it is a fake. This is the real one." He gripped the sword tightly before he looked back to Harry and reminded him, "I think that you already know this. You asked me to lie for you back there."
"But the fake sword isn't the only thing in that vault, is it?" Harry asked him, hoping for more information. "Perhaps you've seen other things in there?"
Not a good thing to ask. It was going against Griphook's pride to tell Harry something like that—and to him—that was as good as betraying his people if he were to help. Griphook twisted his beard around with a finger before he went on speaking.
"It is against our code to speak of the secrets of Gringotts," he said, stroking a hand over the sword. "We are the guardians of fabulous treasures. We have a duty to the objects placed in our care, which were, so often, wrought by our fingers."
He looked to all three of them before he finally said, "So young to be fighting so many."
"Something I noticed too late," Albus sighed grimly. Please help them Griphook, you're the only chance they have of pulling this off and ending the war.
"Will you help us?" Harry asked him, "We haven't got a hope of breaking in without a goblin's help. You're our one chance."
Griphook still didn't look convinced, but he said, "I shall… think about it."
And that was more than they could hope to expect. It was a big choice after all, and Albus didn't blame Griphook for being hesitate about it. Ron looked ready to start arguing and Albus was hoping that he wouldn't blow this. Thankfully, Hermione nudged him hard to get him to shut up.
"Thank you," said Harry, understanding that pushing the matter now wasn't going to help them. Griphook bowed his head in acknowledgement as he flexed his legs, muttering that he was sure that the Skele-Gro had finished and that he will be able to sleep. "Yes, of course," Harry added as he got up.
But as he was leaving the room, he took the sword from Griphook's hands, and though he did not protest, there was no hiding the resentment in his eyes as they left. Goblins have never approved of the way that wizards buy their treasures and pass them on to their descendants.
"Little git," Ron whispered as soon as Harry closed the door and they moved to the middle of the landing, standing in semi-darkness. "He's enjoying keeping us hanging."
That wouldn't surprise him, yet he was also probably thinking of if it would be worth the risk and what his price would be for his service. Nothing in this world comes for free after all.
"Harry," whispered Hermione, "are you saying what I think you're saying? Are you saying there's a Horcrux in the Lestranges vault?"
"Yes," Harry said without a shred of doubt. "Bellatrix was terrified when she thought we'd been in there, she was beside herself. Why? What did she think we'd seen, what else did she think we might have taken? Something she was petrified You-Know-Who would find out about."
Yes… it wasn't wise for her to question them about it. It may have been risky, but it would've probably been the better choice for them to have summoned Voldemort. Thankfully, that didn't happen. Voldemort would've killed them and if he suspected that the Horcrux was taken from her vault…?
He did his best to push that out of his mind as Ron asked, "But I thought we were looking for places You-Know-Who's been, places he's done something important? Was he ever inside the Lestranges' vault?"
Doubtful, since the fortune in Slytherin's line had been squandered generations ago. That was why the Gaunts lived in a hovel; for they had no money left to them.
"I don't know whether he was ever inside Gringotts," Harry explained. "He never had gold there when he was younger, because nobody left him anything. He would have seen the bank from the outside, though, the first time he ever went to Diagon Alley. I think he would have envied anyone who had a key to a Gringotts vault. I think he'd have seen it as a real symbol of belonging to the Wizarding world."
Albus nodded in full agreement—convinced that Harry was correct. Yes. Quite brilliant, he was just amazed that he had never thought of it himself.
"And don't forget, he trusted Bellatrix and her husband," Harry went on as he rubbed his scar, showing that it was still hurting. "They were his most devoted servants before he fell, and they went looking for him after he vanished. He said it night he came back, I heard him. I don't think he'd have told Bellatrix it was a Horcrux, though. He never told Lucius Malfoy the truth about the diary."
No, for Tom has never trusted another living person in his life. Something that has proven to be sad… and his greatest weakness.
"He probably told her it was a treasured possession and asked her to place it in her vault. The safest place in the world for anything you want to hide, Hagrid told me… except for Hogwarts."
Spelt out like that, it made perfect sense. If that weren't true, then it had to be close to it. Albus could see it, Tom knowing that the Horcrux would be safe in Gringotts and ordering Bellatrix to hide it in her vault—one of the most heavily guarded vaults in the entire bank. She would've seen it as a great honor, a sign of trust in her. She would've placed in there herself and savored that moment, never once suspecting that he only did it for his own interest, not from trust.
Ron was shaking his head as he looked at Harry.
"You really understand him," he said as Harry looked grim.
Just enough, Albus believed. He wished that he could somehow sever that connection between them, something he was sure that Harry wished he could do as well.
"Bits of him," Harry reposed, looking like he rather not dwell on the matter. "Bits… I just wish I'd understood Dumbledore as much."
That bothered him greatly… that Harry felt like he understood Voldemort more than a man whom should've been helping him all along. He turned his head down in shame, his heart beating painfully in his chest.
"But we'll see. Come on – Ollivander now," Harry told them and he led the way to one of the other rooms. Ollivander was lying on a bed farthest from the window, wincing from the sunlight. He had been trapped in that dark cellar for so long that just being in the light seemed to be causing him pain. He was hardly more than a skeleton now; bone-thin and his yellowish skin stretched tightly over his face. Albus knew that they had only given the man enough food and water to keep him alive… so that he was trapped in a constant state of between life and death.
He gazed over at them as Harry sat down on the twin bed next to Ron and Hermione as they looked sadly at him.
"Mr. Ollivander, I'm sorry to disturb you," Harry began.
Yet Ollivander spoke up in a feeble voice, gratitude there as he croaked out, "My dear boy. You rescued us, I thought we would die in that place, I can never thank you… never thank you… enough."
Albus watched as Harry reached into the pouch around his neck and pulled out his broken wand, asking if it was possible that he could mend it. Ollivander held the wand in his weak hands, examining it. Looking at it delicately he said in a shaky voice, "Holly and phoenix feather. Eleven inches. Nice and supple."
"Yes," said Harry. "Can you - ?"
"No," whispered Ollivander with regret. "I am sorry, very sorry, but a wand that has suffered this degree of damage cannot be repaired by any means that I know of."
Harry's face betrayed no emotions, yet the look in his eyes said it all… he knew what he was going to say—was expecting it—yet a sliver of him had been hoping otherwise. Nonetheless, he took the wand back and placed it back into the pouch around his neck as Ollivander continued to stare at his hands where the wand had been.
Albus had a guess. Guilt… guilt in having told Tom all that he knew about Harry's wand. And even after that, Harry ended up saving his life. But it wasn't his fault. He was tortured almost on a daily basis in that cellar, it was only going to be a matter of time before he gave in. Albus didn't blame him at all.
Harry took out the wands that he had stolen from the Malfoys and held them out instead, asking if he could identify them. Though his eyes still very sensitive, he took one of the wands and examined it carefully before he could tell them anything.
"Walnut and dragon heartstring," he croaked out. "Twelve-and-three-quarter inches. Unyielding. This wand belonged to Bellatrix Lestrange."
"And this one?" Harry asked, pointing to the other as Ollivander examined it carefully as well.
"Hawthorn and unicorn hair," he said surely, "Ten inches precisely. Reasonably springy. This was the wand of Draco Malfoy."
Albus smiled, knowing that it wasn't just this wand whose allegiance had changed.
"Was?" repeated Harry, looking confused, "Isn't it still his?"
"Perhaps not. If you took it –" Ollivander confirmed.
"—I did – "
"—then it may be yours. Of course, the manner of taking matters. Much also depends upon the wand itself. In general, however, where a wand has been won, its allegiance will change."
Yes, they submit to the person that won them. Wandlore was never one of the subjects that Albus had spent much time studying. Though he found the subject fascinating, he feared that he did not have much patience for such a mysterious art.
"You talk about wands like they've got feelings," said Harry, "like they can think for themselves."
They do… in their own way. Wands were alive and were connected with the heart and soul of their owner. The two were connected and it is this connection that determines the performance of their magic.
"The wand chooses the wizard," Ollivander stated simply. "That much has always been clear to those of us who have studied wandlore."
"A person can still use a wand that hasn't chosen them, though?" asked Harry.
"Oh yes, if you are any wizard at all you will be able to channel your magic through almost any instrument. The best results, however, must always come where there is the strongest affinity between wizard and wand," Ollivander explained, "These connections are complex. An initial attraction, and then a mutual quest for experience, the wand learning from the wizard, the wizard from the wand."
Harry thought that over, though it was hard to say if he understood what Ollivander was saying. He looked down at the wand in his hand and told him how he had taken the wand from Draco and asked if he could use it safely.
And hopefully it will serve him better than that Blackthorn wand did. There was no chance that he was going to survive the rest of this war with such a handicap.
"I think so," Ollivander agreed. "Subtle laws govern wand ownership, but the conquered wand will usually bend its will to its new master."
"So I should use this one?" Ron asked as he pulled out the wand that he had wrestled from Wormtail and handed it over.
"Chestnut and dragon heartstring. Nine-and-a-quarter inches. Brittle," Ollivander said as he looked over it. "I was forced to make this shortly after my kidnapping, for Peter Pettigrew. Yes, if you won it, it is more likely to do your bidding, and do it well, than another wand."
At those words, Harry started to ask more about wands, asking if that law was true for all wands.
Ollivander turned his eyes onto Harry's face. "I think so," he answered, "You ask deep questions, Mr. Potter."
"Yes, he does do that," Albus agreed with a nod.
"Wandlore is a complex and mysterious branch of magic," Ollivander finished.
"So, it isn't necessary to kill the previous owner to take the possession of a wand?" asked Harry.
Yes, Harry… nice and direct. Albus wouldn't have been surprised if Ollivander had a panic attack. And he looked close to it as the man swallowed hard.
"Necessary? No, I should not say that it is necessary to kill," he gulped down painfully, his eyes wide.
"There are legends, though," said Harry, "Legends about a wand – or wands – that have been passed from hand to hand by murder."
Ah, now they were getting to it. Ollivander had turned deadly white as he stared at Harry in fear. He really hoped that Harry wouldn't push the man too far in his weakened state.
"Only one wand, I think," he whispered before Harry cut in.
"And You-Know-Who is interested in it, isn't he?"
"I – how?" croaked Ollivander, looking around in fright, as if hoping for help as he asked, "How do you know this?"
That caught completely off guard. Another thing about him… Harry always did have a knack for knowing things that he shouldn't. He had mixed feelings about that… more trouble than he could imagine. Harry needed to be careful. Ollivander was getting worked up and that could ruin his already delicate health. But he had to hand it to him, Harry knew how to find the answers to his questions.
"He wanted you to tell him how to overcome the connection between our wands," Harry pressed on as Ollivander was looking more terrified by the second.
"He tortured me, you must understand that!" Ollivander gasped out desperately, "The Cruciatus Curse, I – I had no choice but to tell him what I knew, what I guessed!"
"I understand," Harry reassured him in a kinder tone. "You told him about the twin cores? You said he just had to borrow another wizard's wand? But it didn't work. Mine still beat the borrowed wand. Do you know why that is?"
Ollivander was at a loss for words for a moment before he confessed, "I had… never heard of such a thing. Your wand performed something unique that night. The connection of the twin cores is incredibly rare, yet why your wand would have snapped the borrowed wand, I do not know…"
Because nothing about Harry's connection to Tom was normal. He had his own guesses of course… since the wands were both twin cores yet the owners were mortal enemies.
"We were talking about the other wand, the wand that changes hands by murder," Harry asked. "When You-Know-Who realized my wand had done something strange, he came back and asked about that other wand, didn't he?"
"How do you know this?" Ollivander gasped in a whisper.
"Trust me, my friend," Albus sighed. "That is an answer you do not wish to know."
Harry didn't answer, just sat there and waited as Ollivander found his voice.
"Yes, he asked," he confessed. "He wanted to know everything I could tell him about the wand variously known as the Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny, or the Elder Wand."
Hermione's jaw dropped open in shock, unable to believe that the Elder Wand wasn't just a fairy tale after all. This might be good for her though… she's not used to being wrong.
"The Dark Lord," Ollivander whispered in a frightened voice, as if he thought that Voldemort would come out and finish him off if he spoke too loudly, "had always been happy with the wand I made him – yes and phoenix feather, thirteen-and-a-half inches – until he discovered the connection of the twin cores. Now he seeks another, more powerful wand, as the only way to conquer yours."
Yes. He believes that by seeking more power it will solve everything. He cannot understand love, he cannot see just what he was doing to himself. But Tom had strayed too far down this road to be able to see clearly any longer.
"But he'll know soon, if he doesn't already, that mine's broken beyond repair," said Harry quietly and Albus looked over at him, remembering what he was talking about.
"No!" said Hermione, sounding frightened. "He can't know that, Harry, how could he -?"
"Priori Incantatem," he reminded her, telling her that they left her wand as well as the borrowed blackthorn wand at the manor and that if they examine them properly then it wouldn't take much work for them to realize that Harry's wand was broken and that he had been using another instead.
The little color that she had managed to regain since arriving at Shell Cottage, left her face as she realized that he was telling the truth. Ron looked at him with disapproval, interrupting that they shouldn't worry about that now.
Ollivander spoke up at that moment, "The Dark Lord no longer seeks the Elder Wand only for your destruction, Mr. Potter. He is determined to possess it because he believes it will make him truly invulnerable."
"And will it?" Harry asked, dreading the answer.
He will be powerful, at least he would be under different circumstances, for Tom will never be able to fully use the wand. It will not obey him for it does not recognize him as its master. Not that he could ever guess that as he continued closer and closer to where the wand was.
"The owner of the Elder Wand must always fear attack," Ollivander admitted, "but the idea of the Dark Lord in possession of the Deathstick is, I must admit… formidable."
That was the strange thing about Ollivander… for as much as he feared Voldemort—despite the fact that he was tortured and held prisoner for over a year—the idea of the most powerful wand in existence amazed him as much as it terrified him.
Hermione still didn't look completely convinced as she asked in a timid voice, "You – you really think this wand exists, then, Mr. Ollivander?"
"Oh yes," he answered without doubt. "Yes, it is perfectly possible to trace the wand's course through history. There are gaps, of, course, and long ones, where it vanishes from view, temporarily lost or hidden; but always it resurfaces. It has certain identifying characteristics that those who are learned in wandlore recognize. There are written accounts, some of them obscure, that I and other wandmakers have made it our business to study. They have the ring of authenticity."
"So you – you don't think it can be a fairy tale or a myth?" she asked, still trying to hold onto a faint thread of hope.
"I'm afraid not, Hermione," Albus stated. "All stories—even fairy tales—have some truth in there somewhere if you know what to look for."
Ollivander looked over at her and told her, "No."
And the hope in her face shattered at that as he went on to say, "Whether it needs to pass by murder, I do not know. Its history is bloody, but that may be simply due to the fact that it is such a desirable object, and arouses such passions in wizards. Immensely powerful, dangerous in the wrong hands, and an object of incredible fascination to all of us who study the power of wands."
Harry thought it over and the next question that he asked was more of a statement, confirming what he already suspected, rather than looking for a real answer.
"Mr. Ollivander," he asked, "you told You-Know-Who that Gregorovitch had the Elder Wand, didn't you?"
Ollivander had turned so white that he looked like a ghost at the question. "But how—" he gasped out, "How do you…?"
"Never mind how I know it," said Harry, closing his eyes as if in pain before he pressed on, "You told You-Know-Who that Gregorovitch had the wand?"
"It was a rumor," whispered Ollivander, desperate that they understand why he did what he had done. "A rumor, years and years ago, long before you were born. I believe Gregorovitch himself started it. You can see how good it would be for business; that he was studying and duplicating the qualities of the Elder Wand!"
No, that wouldn't surprise him. After all, that was how most people who were unfortunate enough to get their hands on the Elder Wand. They couldn't boast about it without having someone willing to try and take it.
"Yes, I can see that," Harry said in understanding as he stood up and asked, "Mr. Ollivander, one last thing, and then we'll let you get some rest. What do you know about the Deathly Hallows?"
Ollivander looked baffled by the question. Albus knew… while most wandmakers—if not all of them—knew of the Elder Wand, few others knew the story of the Deathly Hallows by name. Most consider it, much like Hermione, as a story to tell children… not real.
"The – the what?" Ollivander asked.
"The Deathly Hallows," Harry repeated and Ollivander didn't know what he was talking about, informing him that he didn't understand. Harry looked at him and came to the realization that he wasn't lying.
"Thank you," he said instead, acting like he had never asked that last question. "Thank you very much. We'll leave you to get some rest now."
Ollivander looked tormented with guilt and gasped out, hoping that they would understand, "He was torturing me! The Cruciatus Curse… you have no idea…"
"I do," Harry reassured him, his eyes darkening slightly and Albus felt the familiar pangs of guilt at the reminder that Harry had also been put under that spell more than once. "I really do," Harry told him. "Please get some rest. Thank you for telling me all of this."
None of them said anything as they left the room and headed downstairs, passed the kitchen to where Bill, Fleur, Dean and Luna all were at the table with cups of tea. They all looked up when they saw the them enter, yet before they could start asking questions the three of them continued onwards to the garden.
Albus knew where they were going and he watched sadly as they approached Dobby's grave, looking down sadly at the patch of earth before Harry turned to Ron and Hermione, ready to tell them what he found out.
"Gregorovitch had the Elder Wand a long time ago," he explained grimly, "I saw You-Know-Who trying to find him. When he tracked him down, he found that Gregorovitch didn't have it anymore: It was stolen from him by Grindelwald. How Grindelwald found out that Gregorovitch had it, I don't know – but if Gregorovitch was stupid enough to spread the rumor, it can't have been that difficult."
No… it really wasn't. But then again, it had taken him a lot of self-control to keep himself from bragging about how he had owned that same wand.
"And Grindelwald used the Elder Wand to become powerful. And at the height of his power, when Dumbledore knew he was the only one who could stop him, he dueled Grindelwald and beat him, and he took the Elder Wand."
Exactly, though Albus faced Grindelwald that day for he had no other choice. He had to face his past and make up for his part in creating Grindelwald.
"Dumbledore had the Elder Wand?" Ron gasped, his eyes as wide as dinner plates. "But then – where is it now?"
"At Hogwarts," Harry answered, already knowing the answer. Ron was staring at him in shock that he was only just telling them this now.
"But then, let's go!" he cried out. "Harry, let's go and get it before he does!"
No. That was not wise at all. There was no chance that they could go to Hogwarts with the way things are now. There were so many security measures put up to alert them should Harry return to the school that they couldn't hope to sneak in. And besides, there was no chance that they could race Tom there. They should focus on the Horcruxes that must still be destroyed. Even if they had the wand, they wouldn't be able to use it against him so long as even one Horcrux remains.
"It's too late for that," Harry responded as he held onto his head, trying to stop himself screaming out. "He knows where it is. He's there now."
So… he was now forced to watch Tom heading towards the wand. That was what was keeping his attention split this whole time. Albus sighed grimly for a moment before he forced himself to keep look.
Ron stared at him, unable to believe what he had heard.
"Harry!" he shouted out furiously at him, "How long have you known this – why have we been wasting time? Why did you talk to Griphook first? We could have gone – we could still go –"
Because choosing the path of the Hallows has a bad tendency to lead to despair. Those objects are dangerous and too tempting for one's own good. He didn't want Harry to have the wand like that… he wanted them to come to him when it was time, when it was safe for him to do so. Harry needed to focus more on the Horcruxes, not a weapon that he was not yet ready to use.
"No," Harry said and the pain in his head must've built to a point that it was too much and he fell to his knees, Hermione rushing to his side at once as he croaked out, "Hermione's right. Dumbledore didn't want me to have it. He didn't want me to take it. He wanted me to get the Horcruxes."
"Enough, Ronald," Albus said softly. "That wand is not worth all the trouble."
"I'm not supposed to… I'm supposed to get the Horcruxes…" Harry winced and Albus decided to check on Tom himself, to see what was happening. He was standing near the lake where Hogwarts was looming over them in the gentle light. But the castle looked cold and dark… no longer a place of safety and wonder, but a school of horrors that pulled at Albus's heart at the thought of what went on in those walls.
"I shall join you in the castle shortly," said a voice behind him and Albus felt anger in his stomach at the thought of that man anywhere near his students. "Leave me now."
He looked behind him in time to see Severus bowing low and setting off back towards the castle as Tom hid himself from sight with the powers of a Disillusionment Charm. But Albus knew where he was going and followed around the lake, thinking of all the wonderful memories that this place held… not just for him, but for countless other students. Why did war have to twist everything innocent around into something dark?
He sighed as they reached the marble grave; with Tom stepping forward, and though his face was almost completely hidden, Albus knew that look… the same look that he once had when he was a child and learned that he was a wizard…
Tom raised his wand and with a CRACK he split the tomb open to where Albus's body was still lying. Albus's face held no emotion as he watched the wrappings fall off, his body had been enchanted to be preserved, though Albus could not see the point in doing so. It was an empty shell, no longer of any use to anyone.
His eyes had gone to his hands, the whole one and the one that was still black and burnt… where the wand laid clutched beneath… the faint hope that it could be taken to the grave with him faded completely. Tom had always been afraid of death, and how he treated this grave did not surprise him.
Tom bent over his body and pulled the wand from his hands and held it up, over his body and caused a vast shower of sparks to fly overhead, and the look of triumphant shown even on his Disillusioned face.
*Days Later*
Albus was continuing to check on Hogwarts, the Order, and all of his former students—making sure that they were doing alright. But things were continuing to sink even deeper into despair. Time marches on, as it always does, but the days were full of fear and terror, while only growing worse when night fell—everyone terrified to go to sleep, terrified that they may not wake up the next morning. And should they do live to see the new dawn, the cycle of fear continued all over again.
He would also check in on Harry, Ron, and Hermione often—to see how well they were getting along. With Griphook still refusing to give them an answer, they spent their time at the cottage, trying to catch up with all the information that they had been missing over the last few months.
While he could tell that they were glad for all the familiar and friendly faces, the trio were spending most of their time on their own. Harry kept thinking of excuses to escape the crowded house and spent his time on the cliffsides, watching the waves and wanting to be on his own.
Albus knew that he was still questioning himself over his decision of the wand. He truly wished that he would put it from his mind. For someone like Harry however it seemed to go against everything that he was since he had always followed with his enormous heart.
But this was why it was the wisest choice for him to make. Breaking into Gringotts would be dangerous yes, but even that had to be safer than trying to race Tom to the wand. Harry was very much like his father and his godfather for he had always had a need to act rather than sit back and let someone else do it instead. But he needed to focus on Gringotts for now.
Ron wasn't helping things by giving his opinion to Harry's decision not to go after the wand.
"What if Dumbledore wanted us to work out the symbol in time to get the wand?" he kept asking him.
"What if working out what the symbol meant made you 'worthy' to get the Hallows?"
"Harry, if that really is the Elder Wand, how the hell are we supposed to finish off You-Know-Who?"
His line of questioning was the last thing that any of them needed here and there was no point in going over it since there was nothing that could be done. The Hallows were tools that would not help them at the moment. Harry was starting to let his fear and doubt weaken his resolve. Though Albus could understand, he preferred the confident and decisive person that Harry was when he first chose his way. He needs to stick to his instincts since Remus was right. Those instincts were good and nearly always right.
Hermione, however, was completely with Harry's choice not to go after the wand. Though she now had no choice but to accept the fact that at least one of the Hallows was real, she remained stubborn to the fact that it was an evil object and that they shouldn't be thinking of going after it. Especially after hearing how he had gotten the wand in the first place.
She was both correct and wrong at that line of thought. Though she was right that they shouldn't be thinking of it any longer, the wand itself is just a very powerful object. It wasn't good or evil… though it has a long and bloody history, it wasn't always used for wrong purposes.
"You could never have done that, Harry," she told Harry over and over, like she was hoping that he would agree with her. "You couldn't have broken into Dumbledore's grave."
That was true. Harry never could've done that… not because he was afraid of the idea of his corpse, but because he could never bring himself to violate his grave. Yet Harry needed to focus on the task at hand. He knew that he had made his choice, but he kept second-guessing himself and looking back, like he thought that he was trying to figure out if he did the right thing. Oftentimes, Albus would notice the anger on his face and just knew where that came from… at whom it was directed too.
Albus frowned grimly, nodding his head sympathetically. He could not blame Harry's anger at him. He as good as led him down a path in the darkness, forcing him to grow up and make his own choices. But Harry did not make choose wrong here. If he wanted Harry to have the wand right away he would've given it to him. He must focus on the future rather than the past.
It wasn't until the third day of their stay did they have another break-through. It started while the three of them were staring out at the ocean once again near the garden. Harry had wanted some time to himself while Ron and Hermione were arguing as they found him.
"But is he dead?" Ron was asking and Albus sighed.
Not this theory again… no spell can bring back the dead, and Albus knew that. He was dead and it was as simple as that.
"Yes, he is. Ron, please," Hermione scolded darkly, "don't start that again!"
She had improved greatly over the last few days in Fleur's care. She was still pale but she was quickly regaining her health and there was no doubt that she would make a full recovery from her ordeal. Yet the thought of her being tortured was still on his mind and anger was still rushing inside him at the memory of her screaming.
The two were on either side of Harry, who was continuing to stare ahead of him while they argued at each other.
"Look at the facts, Hermione," Ron stated, "The silver doe. The sword. The eye Harry saw in the mirror -"
Yes, but his Patronus was a phoenix, not a doe. He wished that Ron would stop trying to bring this up.
"Harry admits he could have imagined the eye! Don't you, Harry?" Hermione asked him.
"I could have," said Harry without looking at her.
Ah, but that was when Albus knew that he didn't imagine it. It was his eye that was looking at him, yet at the same time it wasn't. It belonged to Aberforth, who had been watching over them in a way.
"But you don't think you did, do you?" Ron asked and Harry admitted that he didn't, which Ron thought that solved everything. "There you go!" he said to Hermione, "If it wasn't Dumbledore, explain how Dobby knew we were in the cellar, Hermione?"
"I can't - but can you explain how Dumbledore sent him to us if he's lying in a tomb at Hogwarts?" she demanded and Ron seemed at a loss there for a moment.
"I dunno, it could've been his ghost!" he decided.
No, Albus had no desire to return to this world and be trapped, stuck in-between, forever. Though he wished that he was there to help them, he wouldn't have ever bring him to curse himself in such a way. Besides, ghosts have no magic of their own.
"Dumbledore wouldn't come back as a ghost," Harry said suddenly. There was no doubt there as he spoke. "He would have gone on."
"What d'you mean, 'gone on'?" Ron asked, but Harry just shrugged at him before Fleur came outside.
"'Arry," she called and they all turned at her. Fleur had made her opinion of Griphook very clear… strongly disliking the idea that he was sending her to deliver messages inside her own house, yet she did her best to hide this as she told them, "'Arry, Grip'ook would like to speak to you. 'E eez in ze smallest bedroom, 'e says 'e does not want to be over'eard."
Ah, it sounds like Griphook had finally made up his mind about what to do. Now if he had decided that he wouldn't help, they would have to come up with another idea as to what they were to do. But Albus was hoping that Griphook would decide to help them in the end.
They walked up to the cottage just as Luna came outside, carrying an empty jam jar, and telling them that she was going to go and get some flowers to set up at Dobby's grave. They nodded at her as she went off to try and see what she could find.
After that, they went upstairs to the smallest of the bedrooms there, and Griphook was already sitting in a chair, his legs having healed well, and he had drew the curtains by the time that they entered. He was drumming his arms of the chair with his fingers, waiting until they closed the door behind them before he spoke.
"Though the goblins of Gringotts will consider it base treachery, I have decided to help you -"
For a moment, Albus couldn't believe it. Stunned that he would agree to help wizards in any way, especially since it involves stealing from Gringotts. But then he heard this next part…
"That's great!" said Harry in relief. "Griphook, thank you, we're really -"
"- in return," he finished firmly, "for payment."
Of course. Albus saw that coming. Nothing in this world came without a price. The question was, what was it that Griphook was going to ask. Though he didn't need too much of an imagination to already have a good guess.
Harry looked taken aback by that before he asked, "How much do you want? I've got gold."
Oh, no. Goblins wouldn't do something like this for just gold. Especially for one who worked at Gringotts. Griphook was sure to have plenty of gold so he wouldn't be interested in that.
"Not gold," he responded. "I have gold. I want the sword. The sword of Godric Gryffindor."
Albus wished that he could say that he was surprised, but he honestly wasn't. He had doubted that Griphook would've asked for anything else. It would be heavy blow, but they needed his help more than anything else.
"You can't have that," Harry said. "I'm sorry."
"Then," Griphook said softly, "we have a problem."
"We can give you something else," Ron pointed out. "I'll bet the Lestranges have got loads of stuff, you can take your pick once we get into the vault."
Albus let out a frustrated groan at that. Ron couldn't have picked a worse thing to say. There was no chance that a goblin would ever steal a treasure that he had no right to. That was as good as an insult.
Griphook looked furious at those words and said furiously, "I am not a thief, boy! I am not trying to procure treasures to which I have no right!"
"The sword's ours -" Ron pointed out.
"It is not," Griphook retorted.
And that was when the argument started about how Griphook was insistent that the sword was stolen from Ragnuk the First's by Gryffindor. That was the thing with goblins. They believed that the possessions that they have made belongs to them and no one else. They see the idea of wizards keeping anything goblin-made and passing it down in the family without paying for it as good as stealing.
Griphook was making his message very clear. He would accept nothing but the sword for his agreement to help.
Harry took Ron and Hermione outside for a moment, to discuss what they should do. Ron and Hermione got into an argument about wizards and goblins, yet arguing with Griphook about whose race was right wasn't going to help things.
Ron played with the idea of switching the real sword for the fake that was still in the vault. Hermione shot that one down at once though when she reminded him that he would be the only one of them who could tell the difference. And she gave him such a furious look when he suggested that they run out before he realized what they had done that his words died in his throat.
She then tried to explain that they had to just had to offer him something else, something as valuable as the sword. Yet Albus knew better. Even if they had something as valuable, Griphook would accept nothing but the sword. However, if they handed it over, they would need to come up with another way to destroy the Horcruxes.
He looked to Harry, wondering what he was going to say. At last he took a deep breath and came up with a plan.
"We'll tell him he can have the sword after he's helped us get into that vault - but we'll be careful to avoid telling him exactly when he can have it," he said.
Albus wasn't so sure of that. It wasn't much better than Ron's idea. It would be safer to just explain to Griphook how important the sword was. They could tell him that it was vital to help defeating Voldemort—without telling him about the Horcruxes, of course—and hope for the best. They do not need to give details, but Griphook will be expecting them to be underhanded here.
Ron immediately liked this plan, though Hermione looked ready to start arguing again.
"Harry, we can't -" she began.
"He can have it," Harry went on, "after we've used it on all of the Horcruxes. I'll make sure he gets it then. I'll keep my word."
That was true… he was sure that Harry would keep his word. He would give it to Griphook once the Horcruxes were all destroyed. It still wasn't a wise idea, but what other choice was there?
"But that could be years!" Hermione wailed, not liking this at all.
"I know that, but he needn't," Harry told her, "I won't be lying… really."
Harry looked guilty at this plan, yet he didn't know what else to do anymore. They needed to get the Horcrux, yet they needed to give up the only thing they had to destroy them to get that far. There was no turning back now.
"I don't like it," Hermione told him.
"Nor do I, much," Harry admitted shamefully.
"Well, I think its genius," said Ron, standing up again. "Let's go and tell him."
And so, they entered the room once again, with Harry making his offer to Griphook, being very careful on how he worded it all. He wasn't lying, but instead merely skipped over when he would give Griphook the sword. Hermione was frowning the whole time, and if Griphook was looking at anyone but Harry, he would've been asking what they were planning.
Yet Griphook was clearly listening to Harry's words, and already seemingly guessing that they were plotting something against him.
"I have your word, Harry Potter, that you will give me the sword of Gryffindor if I help you?" he asked.
"Yes," said Harry.
"Then shake," said the goblin, holding out his hand. Harry took it and it was almost as if they were making a deal with the devil…
Yet Griphook clapped his hands together and said, "So. We begin!"
For the next couple weeks, the four of them would lock themselves in that small room for hours at a time as they prepared themselves for what was to come. Albus could only hope that it would end better than the last time they planned on breaking into a government building. But something told him that it was going to be a lot worst.
"I have visited the Lestranges' vault only once," Griphook told them, "on the occasion I was told to place inside it the false sword.
Which was good. At least he knew where the vault was and the defensives that protected it. He found out that it was one of the oldest chambers, though he suspected that since the oldest Wizarding families had their vaults in the very deepest levels. Unfortunately, they were also the most protected.
Over the weeks, their plans slowly started to take form as they looked over the drawn maps that Griphook made for them. Since they were almost out of Polyjuice Potion, there could only be enough for one of them. But if this plan worked out, one was all that they would need.
There's only room for one or two people under the cloak, plus Griphook… so they had to use the potion. Albus learned that they had carefully pulled off a single black hair from the clothes that Hermione had been wearing the day at Malfoy Manor… and they all knew that it could only belong to Bellatrix.
Since Bellatrix was no longer considered to be a criminal in the government's eyes, she was now free to walk the streets, with no one able to stand against her. Albus found out their plan very quickly once he saw that hair. They were planning on walking in with one of them disguised as her, and make their way into the vault.
No… that wouldn't work.
There was so much that could go wrong with this plan, but there was nothing else that he could do to try and warn them.
Making a deal with a goblin was never a safe thing to do, something that Bill Weasley noticed right away. Everyone else in the house all knew that the three of them were planning something with Griphook since they would only leave that room for mealtimes. However, nobody asked them what they were planning for they knew that they would never get an answer.
Yet Bill seemed to guess what it was that they were going to do. Though Albus doubted that he was able to guess that they were planning on breaking into Gringotts.
He soon figured out that the longer that they spent together, the more their dislike of Griphook began to show. He could understand since Griphook kept laughing at the idea of pain in lesser creatures and seemed to be looking forward to the idea of hurting wizards in order to get to the Lestranges' vault. Goblins had always been like this, and so liking them could be difficult at the best of times.
Harry was clearly feeling guilty for insisting that Griphook remain here with them since it was putting Fleur to extra trouble. As April came around, one evening he apologized to her while he was helping her with dinner.
Fleur, who had a soft side when it came to Harry, just reassured him that it was alright. Believing that he saved her sister's life before. Though that was not true… since Gabrielle was never in any real danger.
"Anyway," Fleur went on as she cooked. "Mr. Ollivander leaves for Muriel's zis evening. Zat will make zings easier. Ze goblin," she scowled a little at the mention of him, "can move downstairs, and you, Ron, and Dean can take zat room."
No… not a good thing. He won't be happy about that since he would think poorly of being forced to sleep on the sofa. They had to keep him happy for now.
Harry spent enough time with him to know the aspect of a goblin's character by now, "We don't mind sleeping in the living room." When Fleur looked ready to protest he added, "Don't worry about us. We'll be off your hands soon too, Ron, Hermione, and I. We won't need to be here much longer."
Well, that won't make her feel any better. Did Harry really think that she would want them to leave?
"But, what do you mean?" she asked sharply, "Of course you must not leave, you are safe 'ere!"
It was a wonder why Molly didn't like her at first. The two of them were so alike, and Fleur resembled her so much at that moment, that it was frightening. He supposed it was true… men had a tendency to marry girls who are like their mothers.
Fleur looked ready to continue to argue until the door opened up and Luna came inside with Dean, having come back from getting driftwood in the rain. The whole time Luna was going on about the Crumple-Horned Snorkack while Dean was looking very uncomfortable with what she was saying, but just nodded along in agreement as everyone was getting ready for dinner.
"... and if you ever come to our house I'll be able to show you the horn," Luna was saying to Dean as they put the driftwood onto the fire. "Daddy wrote to me about it but I haven't seen it yet, because the Death Eaters took me from the Hogwarts Express and I never got home for Christmas."
"Luna, we told you," Hermione called over to her. "That horn exploded. It came from an Erumpent, not a Crumple-Horned Snorkack -"
"No, it was definitely a Snorkack horn," Luna said with certainty, "Daddy told me. It will probably have re-formed by now, they mend themselves, you know."
Albus sighed and shook his head, but was unable to keep the smile off his face as he looked at her. What a special girl she was…
Hermione was shaking her head as well, but was looking more irritated than fond of Luna's eccentricity. Thankfully, before she could respond, Bill came down the stairs with Ollivander leaning heavily against him. Though still exceptionally frail and weak, his few weeks under their care had certainly returned some of his health. Now that he was strong enough for travel, they were going to move him to Muriel, and Albus was sure that Molly would be more than capable to finish returning him to full strength.
Luna jumped up and went up to him as she said, "I'm going to miss you, Mr. Ollivander."
"And I you, my dear," said Ollivander, patting her on the shoulder fondly and he gave her a gentle smile. "You were an inexpressible comfort to me in that terrible place."
Albus nodded, knowing that all too well. A very strong and wonderful girl she was. He wished that there were more people in the world like her for she could see everything in such a unique and beautiful way…
Fleur stepped forward and gave him a kiss on both cheeks as she said her goodbye.
"So, au revoir, Mr. Ollivander," she told him. "And I wonder whezzer you could oblige me by delivering a package to Bill's Auntie Murie! I never returned 'er tiara."
Albus chuckled there as well. He knew Muriel would be going mad by that fact. She was taking every chance she had to bring this up to the rest of the Weasleys who were at her home. It would only be a matter of time before someone—and he strongly suspected one of the twins—to snap and do something to her.
"It will be an honor," Ollivander with a little bow, still holding onto Bill's arm for support, "the very least I can do in return for your generous hospitality."
Fleur pulled out a worn case, and she opened it up to show the sparkling tiara that she wore for her wedding day. While they admired it, Griphook had entered the room and was glancing at it.
"Moonstones and diamonds," he said, "Made by goblins, I think?"
"And paid for by wizards," Bill added quietly. Albus wasn't sure if he meant for Griphook to hear, but he did, and he shot him a surreptitious look, as if he was just daring him to say something else. Bill took Ollivander outside and they disappeared into the darkness while the rest of them sat at the table and had their food. Well, most of them were. Fleur was hardly touching anything as she kept looking at the window, waiting for Bill to come home.
To her relief, he came back surprisingly quick. She jumped up, still pale, and didn't calm down until he came back in, looking windswept.
"Everything's fine," he reassured her. "Ollivander settled in, Mum and Dad say hello. Ginny sends you all her love, Fred and George are driving Muriel up the wall, they're still operating an Owl-Order business out of her back room."
Albus chortled, having been glad to know that he was right.
"It cheered her up to have her tiara back, though. She said she thought we'd stolen it," Bill said.
"Ah, she eez charmant, your aunt," said Fleur crossly, before she used her wand to stack the dirty plates in the air and she took them out of the room.
"Daddy's made a tiara," piped up Luna brightly, "Well, more of a crown, really."
Again, Albus couldn't stop the laughter. It truly was a blessing to have something to smile and laugh about. And he listened interestedly as Luna went on to tell them that she and her father were trying to re-create the lost diadem of Ravenclaw. But no sooner did she go into the details did someone bang loudly on the front door.
Albus looked up, checking on who it was and was amazed to see that it was Remus, looking white as a sheet and he was panting so hard, that if Albus didn't know better he would've sworn that he had run all the way here. Albus was worried for a moment before he suddenly had an idea and he watched with waited breath… if he was right then there would be something to celebrate rather than fear.
Fleur came running back out of the kitchen with a terrified look on her face as Bill jumped right back to his feet, and was pointing his wand at the door along with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Since neither Dean nor Luna had a wand, they stood back, but looked ready to grab anything in reach to use as a weapon.
"Who is it?!" Bill called as Griphook slipped under the table and out of sight.
"It is I, Remus John Lupin!" he shouted back, "I am a werewolf, married to Nymphadora Tonks, and you, the Secret-Keeper of Shell Cottage, told me the address and bade me come in an emergency!"
"Lupin," muttered Bill, and he ran to the door and wrenched it open. It was so sudden that Remus stumbled and almost fell to the floor as he tripped over the threshold. But he was up in a flash, staring around to see who was there before he cried out, "It's a boy! We've named him Ted, after Dora's father!"
With a cry of joy, Albus clapped his hands together, his heart swelling with happiness at the thought. The room burst out with similar cries at the thought.
"Wha -? Tonks - Tonks has had the baby?" Hermione shrieked a smile stretching across her face.
"Yes, yes, she's had the baby!" shouted Remus, who was so happy that he was almost dazed. All around the table came cries of delight, sighs of relief: Hermione and Fleur both squealed, "Congratulations!" and Ron said, "Blimey, a baby!" as if he had never heard of such a thing before.
This is exactly what we needed to hear right now. The news had certainly lifted everyone's spirits tenfold. But there was one person whom Remus wished to speak to more than any other.
"Yes - yes - a boy," he said as he walked around the table and straight to Harry, embracing him hard. Albus watched happily, knowing that Remus had felt so guilty over his behavior at Grimmauld Place.
When he pulled away, Remus asked Harry just one question.
"You'll be godfather?" he asked, a tiny bit of him looking worried that Harry would refuse, but Albus only beamed, knowing that there was no chance of that ever happening.
"M-me?" stammered Harry, his jaw falling open in shock.
That's what he just said, isn't it? He couldn't have picked a better person, especially since he knew that Remus knew that it was Harry who made him go back to his family in the first place. Teddy would be taken care of…
"You, yes, of course," Remus said as if he never should've been expecting someone else, "Dora quite agrees, no one better -"
"I - yeah - blimey -" was all that Harry could choke out as he was beaming as Bill went to fetch some wine and were all demanding that they have a drink. Remus was still smiling—looking so much younger and happier than Remus could remember seeing—trying to politely refuse. But in the end he decided that he would stay for a short time.
Albus felt lighter and happier than he had been in so long and only lamented the fact that he wasn't there to congratulate him as well. Bill soon had goblets of wine for all of them and they raised them high in a toast as Remus declared, "To Teddy Remus Lupin! A great wizard in the making!
"Here, here!" Albus smiled, "I'm glad for you, Remus. You deserve happiness and I'm so glad to see that you finally realize that as well."
"'Oo does 'e look like?" Fleur asked eagerly.
"I think he looks like Dora, but she thinks he is like me," Remus answered with a laugh. "Not much hair. It looked black when he was born, but I swear it's turned ginger in the hour since. Probably blond by the time I get back. Andromeda says Tonks's hair started changing color the day that she was born."
Ah… another metamorphmagus. Wonderful…
Remus had already drained his first goblet, but was allowing Bill to fill it up again. Soon they drained the bottle and were opening up another one. For this moment, they were able to forget all about the war and the dark days that were still to come; just celebrating new life rather than death seemed to make everything brighter.
However, Albus soon realized that there was one in the room who did not seem to be the least bit interested in this news and it was Griphook. Very early on, the goblin slipped out from under the table and went back to the bedroom, not at all touched. Albus looked at the others, yet only Harry and Bill noticed this. Albus… didn't like this foreboding feeling in the pit of his stomach, yet he pushed that away, not wanting anything to ruin this joyous mood.
At last, his face turning red, Remus seemed to remember that he had to get back and got up, refusing another goblet of wine and pulling his cloak around his shoulders.
"No… no… I really must get back," he said, still dazed by happiness. "Good-bye, good-bye - I'll try and bring some pictures in a few days' time - they'll all be so glad to know that I've seen you -"
He went around to each of them, hugging and shaking hands before he finally left, not wanting to be apart from his family any longer tonight. But even after he was gone, everyone was still in the mood to have something to celebrate.
"Godfather, Harry!" Bill smiled as he helped to clear the table. "A real honor! Congratulations!"
Yes, it was. But that was when Bill led him into one of the other rooms, away from the others, and informed him in a little more serious voice, "I wanted a private word, actually, Harry. It hasn't been easy to get an opportunity with the cottage this full of people."
Albus watched on, knowing what they were going to be discussing. He knew that Bill had been suspicious for a while now. He didn't know what exactly what they're doing or why they were going to do it, but he was glad that there would be someone here to warn Harry about Griphook.
Bill looked like he was having trouble trying to come up with the words, but then he came out and asked, more like he was confirming what he knew, "Harry, you're planning something with Griphook."
Harry didn't bother to try to lie or deny it, and instead just stood there and waited for him to go on.
"I know goblins," Bill reminded him. "I've worked for Gringotts ever since I left Hogwarts. As far as there can be friendship between wizards and goblins, I have goblin friends - or, at least, goblins I know well, and like. Harry, what do you want from Griphook, and what have you promised him in return?"
"I can't tell you that," Harry told him apologetically. "Sorry, Bill."
Bill opened his mouth, ready to continue talking, but that was when the door opened, and Fleur was coming in with more empty goblets.
"Wait," Bill said to her, "Just a moment."
She backed out with a slightly confused look on her face, but didn't question it as Bill turned back to Harry and gave him a simple warning.
"Then I have to say this. If you have struck any kind of bargain with Griphook, and most particularly if that bargain involves treasure, you must be exceptionally careful. Goblin notions of ownership, payment, and repayment are not the same as human ones."
That's true. That point of view has always been one of the main reasons why trying to create friendships between the two races so difficult.
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, suddenly looking uncomfortable.
"We are talking about a different breed of being," Bill explained. "Dealings between wizards and goblins have been fraught for centuries - but you'll know all that from History of Magic."
Albus felt his mouth twitch a little at that, knowing that was far from true. Most of his students didn't pay any attention in History of Magic.
"There has been fault on both sides, I would never claim that wizards have been innocent," Bill informed him, "However, there is a belief among some goblins, and those at Gringotts are perhaps most prone to it, that wizards cannot be trusted in matters of gold and treasure, that they have no respect for goblin ownership."
"I respect -" Harry began, but Bill shook his head, knowing that Harry didn't truly understand how delicate this issue was.
"You don't understand, Harry, nobody could understand unless they have lived with goblins," Bill interrupted, "To a goblin, the rightful and true master of any object is the maker, not the purchaser. All goblin made objects are, in goblin eyes, rightfully theirs."
"But it was bought -" Harry pointed out before Bill interrupted again.
"- then they would consider it rented by the one who had paid the money. They have, however, great difficulty with the idea of goblin-made objects passing from wizard to wizard. You saw Griphook's face when the tiara passed under his eyes. He disapproves. I believe he thinks, as do the fiercest of his kind, that it ought to have been returned to the goblins once the original purchaser died. They consider our habit of keeping goblin-made objects, passing them from wizard to wizard without further payment, little more than theft."
Yes, Albus was afraid of that. Griphook was not going to expect them to keep their end of the deal and would likely be looking for a way to betray them once he got the sword. And from what it sounded like, Bill seemed to have guessed what they were planning… or at least an idea of what was going to happen.
Bill sighed as he placed his hand back on the door, getting ready to go back and join everyone else. Yet he stayed long enough to look back at him and gave him his warning.
"All I am saying, is to be very careful what you promise goblins, Harry. It would be less dangerous to break into Gringotts than to renege on a promise to a goblin," he said.
Albus almost laughed at that, not sure if he was just making a statement or a right guess. But he just couldn't bring himself to do so as Harry nodded in understanding.
"Right," he said as Bill left, "Yeah, thanks. I'll bear that in mind."
Yet, as Albus glanced back at Harry, knowing that there will always be choices that must be made… and consequences that must be paid. He thought about the choices that Sirius Black had made before and his actions had cost him greatly… he only prayed that the consequences that Harry would reap from his choices did not end badly…
For little Teddy was going to need his godfather in the future along with his parents.
(Hope you all had a Happy Easter!)
