CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: WHERE IT HURTS

Harry had returned to Hogwarts at the start of dinner and found Gryffindor Tower empty. He'd stolen upstairs to put away his Cloak and to open the package from Fred and George. As he'd read through their note, he'd been unable to do anything but marvel at their ingenuity. They'd given him a large supply of Dungbombs; only these weren't ordinary Dungbombs. The twins had found a way to combine them with the Cunfundus Charm. They might prove risky in a closely contained fight; but for moderate distances, one launched bomb could disorientate a group of your enemies and render them useless for a time. Harry had scanned through the rest of their instructions, finally finding one single word written neatly at the very bottom:

Peeves

Harry had laughed aloud as the paper began to burn before his eyes. He'd let it go and watched the tiny specks of black float away on the air. Only they could have thought of that password to reveal the cellar door in Honeydukes.

He'd caught up with Ron and Hermione towards the end of dinner and eaten very quickly so that he could fill them in on everything that happened that afternoon. They'd gone outside and even though the late March air had been chilled, nothing made them any colder than listening to Harry describe his encounter at the Ministry.

He'd told them about going to the Death Chamber and what happened when he used the two-way mirror in front of the archway. He'd left a few things out in order to guard Jillian's past, and one or two other things he simply wasn't quite ready to share with anyone. Harry was embarrassed to admit it, but there was a tiny part of him that had been afraid they'd think he'd truly gone daft. But he'd been wrong. His friends had been overjoyed to know he'd had a chance to say a proper goodbye to Sirius.

Both had lost the coloring from their faces when Harry told them Regulus Black was alive and well, and posing as a Death Eater under another identity. There was no hiding their worry as they, like him, wondered what Voldemort was planning. But they'd finally relaxed enough to laugh at the twins' brilliance when Harry told them about the modified Dungbombs and how to bypass the extra security at Honeydukes.

And then later that evening, Harry had been summoned to McGonagall's office for a brief meeting with Lupin.

As was the case with Kingsley, Lupin had not asked him why he'd needed to go the Ministry that day. And Lupin, like most of the others, had been too stunned over the reappearance of Regulus Black. No one seemed able to believe he'd been hidden all these years and that only two people had known he was alive.

But more than anything, Lupin and the others had been thunderstruck to learn about Davis and the Death Eater that had been impersonating him. Following a lot of research and interviews, the Order felt reasonably certain that the switch had only been made within the last forty-eight hours. It had probably happened as the real Davis was leaving from surveillance duty in Hogsmeade. He'd only been scheduled for Ministry detail for the next few days. Had Harry not gone to the Ministry, it would have been another day before the Order suspected anything was wrong when the real Davis would have failed to show up at headquarters. No amount of Polyjuice Potion would have provided the impostor with that location. Unfortunately, none of the others thought they had any chance of finding the real Davis alive ever again.

All these thoughts were still running through Harry's mind as he knocked at Professor Flitwick's door the following afternoon.

"Hello, Professor," said Harry.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Potter," said Flitwick. "So tell me, what can I do for you? Surely, it's not about your lessons. I cannot tell you how pleased I am with all your hard work."

"Thank you, Professor," said Harry. "And no, it's not about our lessons. I need to talk to you about Rowena Ravenclaw."

Flitwick looked seriously at Harry, then climbed and sat upon his desk, indicating that Harry should take a seat.

"Are you helping Ms. Granger with her research?" he asked.

"No, Professor," answered Harry. "As a matter of fact, she's been helping me."

"I see," said Flitwick, his kind and discerning eyes upon Harry's. "Tell me what you need to know."

"Well, I need to know where to find the armor she once owned."

Flitwick jumped slightly.

"That's a very direct request," he replied. "And not one I was expecting. Very few people even know of it. Can you tell me how you found out about it?"

"Professor Dumbledore told me," said Harry.

"Oh," said Flitwick, mildly surprised. "Well, he was one of the few who knew the armor even existed, given that it was his ancestor that had it made for her."

Harry's mouth fell open.

"His ancestor?" said Harry, still befuddled. "Dumbledore said Godric Gryffindor gave the armor to Ravenclaw."

"That is true," said Flitwick, chuckling a little at the look upon Harry's face. "It seems Dumbledore neglected to tell you he was a direct descendent of Gryffindor's. I guess I shouldn't be too surprised. He was overly modest about it, as he was about most things. I believe Minerva and I are probably the only two who know this information, other than his brother, Aberforth, of course. And now, you."

"I had no idea," admitted Harry.

"If you traveled southwest of here, just past the tallest mountain peak, you'd find a remote, but breathtaking stretch of open land. Near its center is a small village, which is the original home of Gryffindor. It is where Albus and Aberforth were raised," he informed Harry. "But enough about that, you wanted to know about the armor."

"Is any of the armor here in the castle?" asked Harry.

"Might I ask why you need to know this?" asked Flitwick.

"I'm sorry Professor, but no; I cannot tell you that."

"Can you tell me if it has anything to do with whatever you and Albus were doing on the night he was killed?" inquired Flitwick.

Harry hesitated only a moment, but then nodded and said, "Yes, very much so."

Flitwick climbed down from his desk and walked over to a very old, but intricately carved chest. He inserted a key into a lock on the lid and it sprung open very slowly. He did not need to look long to retrieve what he wanted.

He returned and stood on tiptoe in front of the desk at which Harry sat and unwrapped a length of dark blue fabric upon the desktop. One small key was visible.

"This is a key to a vault at Gringotts," said the tiny Professor. "To be specific, it is to the vault which belonged to Ravenclaw's last known descendant. When that descendant died at a suspiciously young age, his will stipulated that all remaining assets pass to Hogwarts."

Flitwick became quiet for a brief moment.

"You might also find it interesting to know that this descendent, though tied by maternal blood to Ravenclaw, was fathered by a wizard who belonged to Slytherin House. It was rumored that the father had been a great admirer of the Dark Lord, though no one was ever able to connect him with the Death Eaters."

Harry was fascinated by what he was hearing.

"As I have been head of Ravenclaw House for a very long time, Dumbledore thought it fitting that I maintain possession of the key. With the exception of a few of my favorite relics, everything else of Ravenclaw's that still resided in the castle was moved to this very same vault years ago."

Harry knew that Flitwick kept an abacus and an eagle's hunting hood in his private quarters. Hermione had come across them during their summer snooping sessions; and Flitwick had later confirmed during their interview that the items originally belonged to Rowena Ravenclaw.

"And when was that?" asked Harry, unaware that he was now sitting on the edge of his seat.

"It was the same year Professor Trelawney joined us on staff," said Flitwick.

This time, it was Harry who practically jumped as he felt a surge of anticipation.

"I have never let this out of my possession," said Professor Flitwick, fixing Harry with a penetrating look.

Flitwick then picked up the key and handed it to Harry.

"Is there anything else I can do, Mr. Potter?" he asked.

"No, Professor," he said, taking the key from Flitwick. "You've done more than I could have hoped for. Thank you."

Harry pocketed the key and was getting ready to leave the classroom when Dobby appeared with a loud crack.

"Professor, sir," started Dobby, speaking first to Professor Flitwick. "Headmistress sent me to bring Harry Potter to her, right away."

"Dobby?" said Harry, immediately taking in the frightened look on the house-elf's face.

"You must come now, Harry Potter, sir."

Harry raced to the gargoyle entrance and ran up the revolving staircase. He could hear muffled sounds coming from the office door, which opened from within before he'd even knocked.

A red eyed, tight lipped and crestfallen McGonagall opened the door for him.

Harry walked into the office and took in the picture before him. The office was packed with many of the Order standing around, all looking rather desolate. Hermione was standing behind a seated Ron, her face tear stained and her eyes frightened. Most alarming however, was the sight of the Weasleys.

Mr. Weasley was sitting there and looked as if he were in shock. Bill and Charlie, who'd been away on assignment at Christmas, were kneeling on either side of their father. Their eyes were red rimmed and their faces grave. Ron, who hadn't even registered Harry's arrival, looked like he was about to throw up. And there stood Fleur, trying to offer comfort to Fred and George, who were both unable to hold back the tears flowing down their faces. Harry's own heart skipped when he realized Mrs. Weasley and Ginny were not present.

Harry did not want to be here. He did not want to hear what he feared was probably coming.

Lupin had moved towards the doorway and placed a gentle hand upon Harry's shoulder. His eyes were full of sadness as he leaned in and in a respectful whisper, told Harry what Harry least wanted to know.

"We lost Molly and Percy earlier today."

He said some other things, but Harry didn't hear them. He saw Lupin's lips moving, but he couldn't make out the words because blood was rushing through his head and ears. Vertigo was taking over and Harry had to close his eyes and count backwards to try and steady himself.

There was no way any of this could be true. Percy was too big a git to bother murdering and Mrs. Weasley was safe inside Grimmauld Place. This was a mistake - a sick, twisted mistake.

When Harry finally opened his own eyes, he found Ron looking at him. Their friendship had been cemented that very first day on the train ride to Hogwarts. Harry thought he knew absolutely everything there was to know about his best friend; but he'd never seen such an expression on Ron's face.

When the first tear finally rolled off the tip of Ron's freckled nose, Harry knew there'd been no mistake. He would have given anything to be able to make this all go away for him; but he couldn't. All he could do was share in his grief. Harry felt the wetness on his own face, and realized he was unable to find any words to express the sadness and horror he felt.

But through the haze of awfulness, he again realized that Ginny was missing.

Hermione, still looking after him and Ron after all these years, read the paralyzing fear in his expression and spoke quietly through her own tears.

"Ginny ran out of here, Harry," she said. "Charlie tried to go after her, but…"

"She hexed me," said Charlie, half crying and half laughing. "Our baby sister actually hexed me."

"Go find her, Harry," said Ron, his voice cracking with each word. "She shouldn't be…"

Ron couldn't finish whatever he wanted to say, as he finally broke down and Hermione knelt down to hold him.

"Do you need the map?" she managed to ask Harry, mouthing the last word, as she hugged Ron tightly.

"No," he whispered, shaking his head. He'd never need a map to find her. All he had to do was follow his heart.

The rest of the school didn't yet know what happened, but those who spotted Harry as he headed downstairs and out the door knew something was wrong. They would find out soon enough.

Harry walked towards Hagrid's hut, and finding it deserted outside, knew he'd come to right place. He walked towards the middle of the vegetable patch and exchanged greetings with Buckbeak.

"Have you had another visitor today?" asked Harry quietly, as he ran his hand along the creature's beak.

Buckbeak eyed him and looked towards the overgrowth that marked the entrance into the forest.

"I thought so, my friend," he said. "I'll see you later."

Harry did not have to go far. He caught a glimpse of red in his peripheral vision as he walked into the well-worn path. Just to the left of it sat Ginny. She'd come to the very spot where she and Harry had spent hours together last spring. It had been their special place, with only Buckbeak to keep them company.

"You don't forget anything, do you?" she asked as she heard him approach.

"Not the things that matter to me," he answered.

Harry sat down next to her and waited for her to look up. She finally did, her eyes dry and far away. He reached out for her hand, but she pulled away.

"Sorry," she said. "But I'm not ready to break down, just yet. I know that probably sounds pretty mental, but my anger is the only thing keeping me in one piece."

Harry definitely understood what that felt like it.

"You don't have to explain," he said.

"Not to you, I don't," she said quietly. "I always liked that about us."

Ginny was all over the place. One minute she was talking about end of year exams and the next she was trying to figure out what flowers were appropriate for funerals.

Harry let her go on like that for quite some time.

The temperature dropped as the afternoon faded away. Harry conjured a glass bowl and lit a fire within it, setting it between them. Ginny didn't seem to notice that Harry had done so without use of his wand.

"Did they tell you what happened?" she finally asked.

He knew Lupin had tried, but nothing registered.

"No, not really," said Harry.

"They got to Percy, first," she began. "probably just before he would have left for work. His flat was a wreck. It looks like he put up quite a fight. But they weren't done yet. They took his body and dropped it at the visitor's entrance to the Ministry. Can you believe that?"

Harry listened as Ginny told him everything. She spoke as if telling a scary story around a campfire. She was disconnected from what she knew really happened.

"Ministry personnel went up to investigate and found him, surrounded by a few Muggles who'd been passing the phone booth entrance. Minister Scrimgeour went to Dad's office and told him something had happened.

Harry did not want to imagine that scene. He'd never forgotten Mr. Diggory's cries when he saw Cedric's lifeless body.

"Kingsley was already at the Ministry. He reached Lupin and then rushed back to headquarters. They arrived within moments of each other, but Mum wasn't there."

Mrs. Weasley was normally always at headquarters. In fact, Harry couldn't remember ever hearing about her being anywhere else since they'd taken up residence at Grimmauld Place.

"They found a basket of laundry strewn across the floor. When Kingsley went to examine it, he came across that infernal clock of hers," continued Ginny, still sounding like she was talking from some far away place. "The glass face was smashed, but there was no mistaking what it had last shown her. Eight hands were still pointed at mortal danger, but the hand representing Percy was spinning around madly."

Mrs. Weasley's worst nightmare had come true and she'd left headquarters.

"Kingsley contacted the Ministry to see if Mum had shown up there. When he was told she hadn't, he and Lupin figured she'd gone straight to Percy's. They dispatched Ministry Aurors to his flat and met them there. They found Mum; and the flat was a mess. That's when they worked out Percy had been ambushed there, and Mum evidently showed up before the Death Eaters left."

Mrs. Weasley had been operating on pure maternal instinct; and instead of going to the Ministry, had gone directly to Percy's flat.

"I always hated that clock," said Ginny, her voice wavering for the very first time since Harry found her.

"Ginny," started Harry, but she cut him off.

"I know. I can't stay out here forever," she said.

"Are you ready?" he asked as he got slowly to his feet.

"No," she said with complete earnestness as she looked up at him.

When Harry reached out for her this time, she did not pull away. He held her and she clung to him, as if to a life buoy.

Lupin's Patronus suddenly circled them and Harry knew the others were getting worried.

Hand in hand, they walked back to the castle.

Word had begun to spread and students were watching them as they made their way up the stairs and into the expansive entry hall.

Terry Boot was there, but he did not move forward. He simply looked at Harry with Ginny, nodded and walked away. The surviving Weasley brothers were gathered at the top of the first flight of stairs, Hermione and Fleur with them. As soon as Ginny saw them, her nightmare became real.

Charlie made his way down to them and Ginny cracked, shattering Harry right along with her. She flew into Charlie's waiting arms and he picked her up, much as he had probably done hundreds of times when she was a little girl.

"Thanks," he whispered, clasping Harry firmly on one shoulder. "Come on, Dad's been asking for you, too."

Harry wasn't sure if his own legs would move; but they did, and he joined his surrogate family and headed back upstairs.

Mr. Weasley seemed rather unwell, and McGonagall insisted he rest in the hospital wing. Harry sat waiting in the outer corridor while Ginny spent some time alone with her father. Ron and Hermione joined him, with Hermione taking up position between them, holding each of their hands. Harry looked at Ron over her head and he returned Harry's gaze. Words somehow seemed woefully useless and they didn't really need any.

"Harry," Hermione eventually said hesitantly, "was Flitwick able to tell you anything else?"

Harry was startled by her question. With everything that happened, he'd somehow forgotten about the tiny gold key in his pocket.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "but we can talk about it later."

"If it'll help find the Ravenclaw Horcrux," whispered Ron, his voice hoarse, "let's hear it, then."

Harry looked at him again, amazed by his friend's determination.

"Nothing is going to bring either of them back," Ron said. "But if you don't get to Voldemort, I swear I am going to."

Hermione blanched but didn't say anything else as she looked anxiously at Harry.

Harry pulled the key from his pocket and showed it to them. In careful whispers he told them about the vault.

"So you've got to go to Gringotts?" asked Hermione, her voice echoing slightly.

"Yeah, and the sooner, the better," said Harry in a hushed tone, an uneasy feeling creeping into his bones.

"Did I hear something about Gringotts?" came a voice and they looked up to see Bill exiting from the hospital wing. Harry hadn't realized he'd been in there with Ginny and Mr. Weasley.

No one answered, and Bill, grieving or not, was smart enough to sense something was up. He looked at all three of them very seriously, his scar tissue cutting rigid patterns across his face.

"Harry?" asked Bill.

The timing sucked, but Harry knew Bill was his best chance of getting in and out of the Wizarding bank without being discovered.

"I need to get into Gringotts," said Harry.

"We need to get in there," said Ron. "Can you help?"

If Bill found this a strange request, he didn't comment on it. He simply looked at his watch.

"Harry, you can head in and see Dad. I'll go borrow a couple of Cloaks from Moody and Jillian. Meet me down the hall in twenty minutes," he said, meaning by the One-Eyed Witch.

Bill, Hermione and Ron left and Harry walked into the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey inclined her head in greeting and pointed at a large area screened off in a far corner.

When Harry entered, he found Mr. Weasley propped against pillows, watching Ginny, who'd fallen asleep across the foot of his bed. He looked up as Harry repositioned one of the screens.

"Ginny used to crawl into our bed like this all the time when she was younger," said Mr. Weasley, a soft smile on his lips. "I don't think she actually slept a full night in her own bed until she was about five."

Harry sat in a chair next to the bed and found it difficult to look at the man who had never shown him anything but kindness. He had to swallow back the knot forming in his throat.

"I've spent most of the last few hours telling my other children how much I love them," he began. "I wish to heaven I could do that once more with Percy. Anger is such a foolish thing to hold onto. Molly was different, though. She reached out to him every chance she got. My one comfort in all of this is that I know they are together, now."

Harry could feel one hot tear coursing down his cheek.

"There's a reason I asked to see you, Harry," said Mr. Weasley.

"I'll do anything you need me to, Mr. Weasley," said Harry.

"I know that, my boy," he said. "All I need you to do is remember that you are a part of this family, always. I don't care what else does or does not happen. You've had a place in our home and our hearts for a very long time. We couldn't love you anymore if you had red hair and freckles."

Harry managed to choke out a small laugh as he wiped at his face.

"I don't think I realized how much I needed to hear that until just now," admitted Harry.

"I knew you needed to hear it," said Mr. Weasley. "Grief makes us do strange things. You've had more than your fair share of it and I didn't want to see you shutting yourself off."

"Am I still really that transparent?" asked Harry.

"No, actually you seem quite different," said Mr. Weasley, taking Harry a bit by surprise. "But who knows you better than us?"

"No one," said Harry, hoping it was indeed true. Because if Voldemort sensed anything about him, they were going to be done before they even started.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Thirty minutes later, Harry, Ron and Hermione, still hidden beneath Invisibility Cloaks, were standing beside Bill Weasley in the marbled atrium of Gringotts Banks.

"I am surprised to see you here this evening, Weasley," said a security goblin. "We heard about your family. You have our condolences."

"Thank you, Godin," said Bill. "I hadn't planned on coming in; but I was tired of sitting around and doing nothing but thinking about things I can't change. I thought a few hours work might distract me some."

"Well, it certainly won't hurt," said the security goblin. "I'll be going about my rounds, then."

"Oh, can you leave out one of the vault carts?" asked Bill casually. "While I'm here, I promised Harry Potter I'd make a withdrawal for him."

"That will not be a problem. I shall set it for the Potter vault. Let me know if you need anything else," said the goblin as he left the atrium.

Bill walked over to his desk and sat down, flipping through a few stacks of papers. Harry, Ron and Hermione followed slowly. They were each glad they'd changed clothes and shoes, their trainers barely making any sound on the shiny floor.

"All right?" asked Bill quietly.

"Yes," they whispered.

"Good," he said. "We'll need to wait a bit for Godin to make his way down to the high security vaults with the other guards. Fortunately for us, the vault you want isn't one of those, or we'd be in a pickle."

"At least something seems to be going right today," said Ron, and Bill looked in the direction of his voice.

"I know, Ron," he said compassionately, then switched back to the matter at hand. "Actually, the vault isn't that far from Harry's, so I'll open both and hang back nearer there in case any one comes. I'll have to close you inside the other, I'm afraid. Any idea how much time you need?"

"Not really," said Harry. "We have a general idea of what we're looking for, but not how many things we'll need to search through."

"Well, to be on the safe side, I'll open it every ten minutes. If more than ten minutes pass, don't panic; I'll only be late if one of the guards shows up."

"Sounds good," said Harry.

"Follow me," said Bill and led the way to the cart that would take them down to the vaults. "It's going to be a tight fit."

And it was. Harry had not been in one of these in a long time, and all four of them were sitting with their knees drawn up against their chins. Bill unlocked Harry's vault first, but did not open the door very far. Next, he hurried a little ways down the tunnel and unlocked and opened the second vault. It was filled with too much for Harry to take in all at once.

"Get inside," said Bill and they filed in. "Okay, I'll be back in exactly ten minutes."

The door closed tightly and Harry heard Bill turn the lock. They threw off their Cloaks and looked around. The room emitted its own strange light, but Hermione pulled her wand and small candles danced around the ceiling.

There were lots of items in the vault: books and ledgers, scales and strange tools the likes of which Harry had never seen. Judging by Hermione's expression, she knew what several of them were and Harry knew she'd give anything to be able to explore in here at her leisure.

"If we find what we're looking for, I'll beg Bill to bring you back again," said Ron, also seeing the longing expression in her eyes.

"Oh, all right," she said, exasperatedly. "We're looking for armor, right?"

"Yep," said Harry. "Any part of it. I don't care how small. Yell if you find something."

They were still searching when Bill opened the door exactly ten minutes later.

"Nothing, yet," mouthed Ron and Bill closed and relocked the door.

Several additional minutes passed and Harry stopped shifting items.

"Wow," he said, and Hermione and Ron came to see what caught his attention.

He'd uncovered a small dagger. It looked to be made from the same steel as Gryffindor's sword. Instead of rubies, the handle was inlaid with sapphires that gleamed in the candlelight. Ravenclaw's name was not etched on it, but there was no denying it had belonged to her.

"Did Dumbledore say anything about a weapon?" asked Ron.

"No," Harry said, replaying his visit with the portrait in his head. "He specifically said armor. But don't most of the suits of armor near the trophy room have sword sheaths on them, or axes?"

"Yes, they do," said Hermione. "Harry, what's that underneath it?"

Harry touched the dagger with the tip of his finger and when nothing happened, lifted it slowly and set it aside. At first, he though it was some weird sort of bowl, but then he noticed the shape wasn't symmetrical.

Ron pulled his wand and used it to levitate and flip the item over on its other side. And that's when they realized what it actually was. It was a breast plate, and one end of it was so narrow it had to have been made for a woman's waist.

"What do you think?" asked Ron. "This or the dagger?"

"I think it's the breast plate," said Hermione.

"Me, too," said Ron.

"That's three in favor of the breast plate," said Harry, just as Bill opened the door.

"That's a goblin made breast plate," said Bill, the moment he saw what they were looking at.

He took a risk and stepped into the vault with them, closing the door behind him. Bill had been a curse-breaker for years and had probably seen more treasure and artifacts than they would ever see in their combined lifetimes.

"Can you tell if it's cursed?" asked Ron.

"Well, if you want to know if you'll die if you touch it, the answer is no. Nothing gets into Gringotts without being tested for things like that. It doesn't mean you won't get some other kind of surprise, but I doubt you'd die right away."

"We need to take this out of here," said Harry.

"Okay," he said, swallowing whatever shock or hesitancy he felt and pulling out a pair of dragon hide gloves from his pocket. "Tools of the trade," he added, handing the gloves to Harry.

Harry knew Bill was bound by his Order oath not to ask any questions; but something was telling Harry he needed more of Bill's help to finish this.

"Actually, it needs to be destroyed," said Harry, pulling on the gloves and carefully picking up the breastplate.

Nothing happened, and everyone let out a collective sigh of relief.

"Good luck. Goblin made armor is one of the most indestructible materials on earth," said Bill. "It been coveted for centuries, non more so than during times of war."

"Isn't there anything that can destroy it?" asked Hermione.

"There are a few things. An active volcano would do the trick," said Bill, and then his eyes lit. "Or a direct fire strike from a dragon."

"It's true, then?" asked Harry, remembering Hagrid telling him on his first trip to Gringotts that the high security vaults were rumored to be guarded by dragons.

"Is what true?" asked Hermione and Ron.

"Never mind that," said Bill, pulling his wand and getting rid of Hermione's candles. "Put your Cloaks on and follow me. We're only going to get one shot at this, so make it count."

Bill opened the door slowly and peaked his head out. The corridor was empty. He told them to go wait in the cart as he closed and locked the Ravenclaw vault and jogged a short distance to do the same to Harry's. When he was seated next to them, he explained what he had planned.

"The high security vaults start one level below," he said. "I'll call out one of the vault numbers from below and the we'll be on our way. The guards will see me and eventually stop me. I'll make up some excuse as to why I am down there. That should buy you some time to wait for the shooting flames."

He was making it all up as they sat there.

"Harry, I hope your aim is still on point. You'll need to launch that thing from a good distance," he said.

"You two," he said to Ron and Hermione, "can stand in front of him for extra cover once the cart stops. Make sure those Cloaks are on good. The guards cannot know you are here. If they do, You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters will be the least of our troubles."

And given the horrible events of today, they understood just how dangerous a move they were making.

"Number eight hundred sixty-four," said Bill aloud and the little cart took off.

Sure enough, several goblins shouted as Bill whizzed past them one level down; and when the cart finally slowed on the next level, two guards hurried towards them, one of them Godin, whom they'd seen in the atrium.

"Weasley, what are you doing down here?" he demanded.

"Sorry, Godin. I did go to Potter's vault," said Bill, surprising Harry when he pulled a pouch of coins from his pocket. "I got back in the cart and was trying to remember the street number for my brother's girlfriend's house – I was planning to go by there next, to see how she was holding up – and I said the number aloud."

The guards looked a little less angry.

"I guess maybe I'm not ready to be back here," said Bill, making a show of running his hands through his hair and looking overwhelmed.

Meanwhile, the cart had stopped one level above and several yards forward of a vault that was indeed guarded by a dragon. Harry had to take a double look and he knew Ron and Hermione were doing the same from beneath their Cloaks. As Bill talked their way out of this mess, Harry leaned over the edge of the cart and waited for his chance. He saw the telltale sign of little puffs of white smoke rising; and then, just as he knew it would, the dragon opened its wide mouth and an inferno shot up from beneath them. Harry launched the breast plate from beneath his Cloak, hoping he'd judged the angle correctly.

He strained to hear the sound of metal on stone that would tell him he'd missed. It never came. Instead, a streak of brilliant red light shot from beneath them and distracted the goblins.

"Go with the others and see what that was," said Godin to the goblin beside him, and then he turned to Bill. "Go home to your family, Weasley. You will know when you are ready to return."

Bill nodded and plopped dejectedly back into his seat. Godin tapped the outside of the cart and it raced back up to the atrium level.

"Sshh," said Bill as he stopped by his desk to retrieve his bag and put on his own hooded, although not invisible, cloak. He did not speak a single word until they were outside and standing in front of the bank.

"On my count," he said to them, and together, they vanished from Diagon Alley and were back in the cellar of Honeydukes. Bill waved his wand and with the silently thought password, revealed the concealed trap door.

He jumped down and called for them to follow. He sent his own Patronus forward to make sure someone from the Order would be on the other end when they arrived. With the cellar door resealed, he waved his wand and lit the wall torches.

Once Tonks's Patronus replied, they were allowed to remove their Cloaks.

"Nice shot, Harry," he said.

"Nice diversion, Bill," said Harry. "You were incredible."

"You really were, Bill," said Hermione.

And for the first time that day, Ron actually smiled. It was clear why the others looked up to the eldest Weasley sibling so much.

"I can't tell you how much you just helped," said Harry.

"If it helps get us one step closer to the end of whatever is next, then it was worth it," he said. "Come on, let's get you back."

He clasped Ron about the shoulder and told him to take the lead. Hermione and Harry followed, as Bill brought up the rear of their procession.

Hermione glanced over her shoulder at Harry. He knew what she was thinking. They'd found and destroyed three of the last four Horcruxes. This was it. The last would fall when they met Voldemort and his Death Eaters head on. The only questions remaining were when and where.