Chapter 30
THE GRINGOTTS JOB
Over the next few weeks, it seemed to Harry that he and Snape had reached an impasse, if not an accord – the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher no longer harassed or threatened him or other Gryffindors in his class – at least no more than usual – but at he same time, liberty for all the seventh-years had effectively been cancelled.
It might not have made much difference anyway, however: N.E.W.T. homework was quickly becoming onerous. While the tests themselves were still months away, every teacher in every seventh-year class was pressing more and more homework upon them. The common room was now full every night until the small hours of the morning with seventh-year students (and fifth-years as well, studying for O.W.L.s) burning the midnight oil. The sixth-years, with relatively much less homework, would finish off their assignments; then, yawning hugely, they would bid their mates goodnight and run off, laughing and dodging jinxes.
With each of them taking five N.E.W.T. classes, Harry and Ron wondered how Hermione could even function under the seven subjects she was taking. "It's not really that hard when you're used to studying," she pointed out, almost amused by their disbelief that she could actually pass seven N.E.W.T.s when Harry and Ron both felt they would be lucky to pass five. "If you would just look at schoolwork as being good for you rather than something you have to work at, you would find it a lot more enjoyable."
"Right," said Ron, with heavy irony. Hermione shook her head at him, disappointed but saying nothing more. Harry saw her point, however. The Defense Against the Dark Arts classes he'd given to the D.A. in his fifth year had been some of the most enjoyable "work" he'd ever done at Hogwarts.
Harry also had another school activity beyond N.E.W.T.s to consider. Gryffindor's next Quidditch match, against Ravenclaw, was on the third Saturday of March, and he had to weave practice sessions around their school work, although only he and Ron were in seventh year, and Demelza in her fifth. They finally managed a few late afternoon practices, and Harry was pleased to see the younger team members eager to return to the pitch, but again he felt less than enthusiastic about the game. He even briefly considered taking himself out of the lineup, making Ginny Seeker and putting Dean or Seamus in as Chaser, but almost immediately abandoned the idea as sending a seriously wrong message, both to his own team members and to everyone else at school as well. He would play out their last two games.
The day of the match arrived, a blustery, overcast day, and both teams took to the field with high enthusiasm. Ravenclaw, having lost its first match to Slytherin by a wide margin in November, was spoiling for a win. The Gryffindors, likewise, felt confident riding the blazing fast Crown jewels. The first few minutes of the match are dominated by Gryffindor, which flew into an early lead with several unanswered goals from Ginny, Demelza and Natalie. Harry, circling above the pitch, searches for the Golden Snitch and half-listens to Neville, who had returned without Luna to provide commentary for the match. Even without Luna's unique perspective on the game, Neville was doing quite well on his own. It probably didn't hurt, either, that Gryffindor was doing quite well, outscoring Ravenclaw two to one in goals; the score was soon 150 to 70.
However, the match came to an abrupt halt as Harry, suddenly sighting the Snitch near the center of the pitch, streaked after it, only to have it fly directly at the Ravenclaw Seeker who, although greatly surprised, reached out and deftly caught it out of the air, ending the match.
"That was an unlucky break for Gryffindor," Neville said, uable to hide the disappointment in his own voice. "Ravenclaw has the win, 220 to 150."
In the changing room, after the match, Harry's team mates were sympathetic about the loss. "It was a tough break, Harry," Ginny told him, looking disappointed herself. "But you never know which way the Snitch'll fly."
"We were doing great up 'til then, though," Demelza said, shrugging. "It we'd played much longer we might've won even if they had caught the Snitch, like we did against Hufflepuff!"
Harry, for his part, said nothing and merely nodded miserably, as if he were upset about the loss; in truth, however, he was glad the match was over and that they had only one left, against Slytherin in May. The next game, in April, matched Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, which would of course be important for the overall standings but was unlikely to be very interesting, to Harry's mind.
The following weekend was Round 11 of the Vault Tournament, although the nearest any of them got to Diagon Alley was the article printed the following Monday in the Daily Prophet. Ron practically snatched the paper out of Hermione's hands as she started to set it down after finishing reading it.
"Really, Ron!" she said as he spread out the paper on the table before him and began reading intently. There'd been no winner, the first question he'd asked when Hermione received her copy from the delibery owl. "It's not as if the ink's going to disappear if you don't read it fast enough, you know." Ron ignored her.
"No one's won it yet, have they?" Jon asked as he sat down at the Gryffindor table on the other side of Hermione from Ron. Ron shook his head no.
"It looks like most of the wizards who've been trying to open it think there's some kind of pattern or sequence that needs to be set up with the tiles," Hermione told Jon. "Especially since the symbols on the tiles can be rotated as well as moved into different positions."
Jon had buttered a piece of toast and was now putting some raspberry jam on it. "How many tried this weekend?" he asked.
"Four," Hermione and Ron said together. "At the end of the article they quoted Bill saying they expected even more for the next round," Hermione added. Ron grunted, not sounding happy about that morsel of information.
"And how're you doing with figuring out the Vault, Ron?" Jon asked him.
"Fine," Ron said distractedly, still scanning the article closely.
"Which means, 'Not very well,'" Hermione translated, bluntly, for Jon. Ron turned to her, looking outraged.
"I'm doing fine," he repeated crossly, closing and folding the paper and dropping it on her books. "I'll be in the Library until it's time for class. See you, Harry, Jon." Without saying goodbye to Hermione Ron stalked away.
"His wand is sure in a knot, isn't it?" Jon remarked, watching Ron's retreating back.
"Tell me about it," Hermione said feelingly. "He gets crazy for a while after every round of that Tournament."
"Well, that's how people succeed sometimes," Jon said philosophically. "They push themselves farther than others are willing to."
"Yes," Hermione conceded. "No argument that Ron is looking very hard to figure out how to open the Vault. I just don't know," she lowered her voice so only Jon and Harry could hear, "what he's going to find linking it with his uncle Archie."
"You weren't convinced by what he said about the similarity of the designs?" Harry asked quietly.
"I don't know," Hermione replied. "I've said that before. I don't think it's conclusive, though – both Ron's great-uncle and whoever built the Vault might've just copied the same design."
"I hadn't thought of that," Harry admitted.
Ron showed up for Herbology and Transfiguration classes that morning, but afterwards he disappeared back into the Library to study his uncle's journal more, coming out only for lunch and dinner. He didn't appear again until after the Library closed for the evening, when he showed up in the Gryffindor common room, tired and rather cranky. Apparently he'd had no better success this day with his Vault studies than before.
The situation continued in similar vein for the next few days, until Ron finally tired of devoting day after day to figuring out the Mystery Vault and returned to his N.E.W.T. studies just before the Easter holidays began. Just in time, too, Harry thought, since the amount of homework they'd been given would take all of the free time they had during the week to finish.
A solution to the Gringotts situation was also slow to present itself. Harry had racked his brain since the idea of Voldemort using the Wizarding bank to hide his Horcruxes presented itself, but no idea on how to determine which Death Eaters were using it, short of watching the bank day and night, had come to him, Ron or Hermione.
The Monday after Easter, Harry, Ron and Hermione came down to the Great Hall for a leisurely breakfast. Afterwards, Hermione scanned the paper while Ron toyed with the Vault model and Harry considered his Gringotts options with increasing pessimism.
"There has to be a way to find out which Death Eaters are using Gringotts," Harry muttered, more to himself than either Ron or Hermione, who both by now had learned to ignore such remarks.
"Don't you think so?" Harry finally said, looking at Ron with an annoyed frown on his face.
"Undoubtedly," Ron replied absently, still staring at the Vault model.
"We'll figure out something, eventually, Harry," Hermione said placatingly.
"It would help," Harry said scathingly, looking at Ron. "If some people would put away their toys and start thinking about the problem."
"This is not a toy," Ron said, annoyed himself now at Harry's attitude. "You wouldn't believe how much effort Fred and George put in to build this model. And you ought to know, anyway," he added. "Since you had 'em make this model for me!"
"Alright, nevermind then," Harry said, not keen to disparage anything the twins had done.
"Right," Ron said, feeling vindicated. "They must've spent months studying the Omniocular images they made of the Vault to get all of the moves right on it."
Harry looked up quickly at Ron. "That's right," he said, thoughtfully. "They set up an Omniocular lens to record the Vault sometime after the first Round, didn't they?" He pondered that fact for a while, then got out a scrap of parchment and began writing.
Some time later, both Hermione and Ron looked up, surprised, when suddenly sat back down in the chair between them.
"Were you gone?" Hermione asked him. "I didn't notice you'd left."
"Yeah," Harry said. "I just dashed off a quick note to Fred and George asking if I could have a look at the Omniocular they had set up for the Vault."
"What for?" Ron asked. "Who'd want to look at day after day of people trying to open the Vault?"
"I have a theory," Harry said, being mysterious himself for a change. "We'll see if it bears out."
The next day, Tuesday, Hedwig returned while they were having breakfast, with a letter for Harry from Fred and George:
Harry,
No problem letting you see the Omniocular, mate. Only problem is, we'll need a face to face meeting. Probably too dangerous for you to travel, but never fear, we have a solution.
At 4 p.m. on Wednesday, use McGonagall's fireplace to firetalk to Professor Lupin's fireplace in number 12 Grimmauld Place. We'll see you there!
— George and Fred
"Huh! How do they think you're going to be able to do that?" Ron asked, annoyed, after he'd finished reading the letter. "They may as well come here as ask you to try that."
"I'll find a way," Harry said determinedly.
"What's your theory, Harry?" Hermione pressed him. But Harry still wouldn't say.
There was still a problem Harry had to overcome before he could talk to Fred and George, and that was the matter of getting into McGonagall's office Wednesday afternoon and using her fireplace without her knowledge. If she was in there the game would be up; Harry would have to hope Fred and George had chosen the time wisely, or at least luckily.
He did have a solution for getting into the office, however. Leaving the Great Hall early after dinner that night, he went to the corridor where the entrance to the Head's office was located. He pulled the Invisibility Cloak out from under his robe and covered himself, then activated the Marauder's Map ring.
"Where is Professor McGonagall?" Harry whispered, and the viewpoint of the castle flew to the Great Hall, where the figure labeled "Minerva McGonagall" was seated at the center of the High Table, as he expected. Now he need only wait until she returned to her office so he could hear the password, and hope she did not change it the next morning. Harry sat down against a wall near the stone gargoyle, deactivating the ring and making himself comfortable as he waited for McGonagall to appear.
Too comfortable, as it turned out. Harry was dreaming about Quidditch, his hand outstretched to catch the small flying object in front of him, when someone close to him said, "Snidget!"
Harry jerked awake, looking up from under the cloak to see Professor McGonagall standing before the gargoyle, looking around the corridor curiously. Had Harry said something aloud, possibly giving himself away?
At that moment the gargoyle leapt aside for McGonagall, and fortunately not onto Harry, who had been sitting next to it. With a final lingering look around the corridor, McGonagall stepped slowly onto the spiral staircase and moved out of view. The walls of the corridor shut behind her and the gargoyle leapt nimbly back to its original place.
Had "Snidget" been the password, or had Harry merely dreamed the word? He couldn't be sure, and he didn't want to risk trying it now for fear of alerting McGonagall that something indeed was amiss. He would have to risk it. Harry made his way back to the common room and confided his plan to Ron.
"Wicked!" Ron said softly after Harry'd told him what had occurred. "So we're going back tomorrow at four?"
"I'm not sure about the 'we' part," Harry said diffidently. "I don't want you to get caught too, if McGonagall is still in her office when we get there tomorrow."
"Blimey, Harry!" Ron said incredulously. "After all the things you've trusted me and Hermione with, d'you think getting McGonagall mad at us even makes a rat's fart worth of difference?"
And Harry certainly couldn't argue with that logic. Thus, Wednesday afternoon found him and Ron creeping toward the gargoyle under the Invisibility Cloak once again just before 4 p.m. A short distance from it, Harry stopped and whispered, "Let me check the Map." Activating it, he asked for Professor McGonagall's location only to feel a slight buzzing sensation from the ring. "She's not at Hogwarts," he said to Ron, his eyes wide. "I wonder how Fred and George knew she'd be gone?"
"Let's go ask 'em," Ron shrugged. The corridor was empty, so Harry took off the Cloak and slipped it under his robes.
Standing before the gargoyle, Harry said, "Snidget!"
The gargoyle leapt aside for them. Breathing a sigh of relief, Harry and Ron made their way up the staircase and into McGonagall's office.
"It's almost four p.m.," Ron said, looking at his watch. They walked over the fireplace. Harry grabbed a handful of Floo powder and cast it into the fireplace, saying loudly, "Number 12 Grimmauld Place!" The flames swirled, turning an iridescent green, and both of them leaned forward, experiencing the sensation of their heads seemingly spinning on their necks.
A moment later they found themselves looking at Professor Lupin's office. Glancing at Ron, Harry watched the green flames flickering eerily around his head. Ron, looking back at him, said, "Blimey, Harry – I've never seen anyone's head like this so close up."
"About time," a voice in the room said, and both Harry and Ron turned to see who had spoken.
Fred and George, who'd been standing to one side of the fireplace, stepped into view.
"Hi, Harry," Fred said. "Long time no see."
"Glad you could make it," George added. "Did you have any trouble getting into McGonagall's office?"
"No more than usual," Harry said. "You know, now that I think about it, I'm not sure how this is going to work. After all, I can't work the controls on the Omnioculars –"
"Not to worry," Fred said airily. "We took some time last night to anticipate what you wanted."
"Which is what?" Ron asked.
"Hold your horses, little bro," Fred cautioned. "We'll explain."
"Your request to see what was in the Gringotts Omnioculars intrigued us, Harry," George said. "We wondered just what you might want to look at, if not the past contestants, which have already been covered ad nauseum by the Prophet."
"And that left, pretty much, just the front doors of Gringotts itself," Fred finished. "From there, we reasoned, you were probably interested in only certain parties who might be coming and going. And that left, pretty much, only Death Eaters."
"Exactly right," Harry agreed with a wide smile. "Brilliant!"
Fred and George both made a little bow accepting Harry's praise. Fred produced a wrapped package with a strap around it. George took a pair of tongs from the rack next to the fireplace and, grasping the package carefully, held it so Harry could take the strap in his teeth.
"We've wrapped the Omnioculars in fireproof material. Hit the 'replay' button then the 'jump' button – we've marked the points of interest."
Harry stepped back, along with Ron, handling the package gingerly; it had gotten warm in the few seconds it had been in the flames. Unwrapping it, he found half an Omnioculars, just as he had seen at their shop in Diagon Alley some weeks ago. With Ron looking on, Harry brought it to his eye and hit the replay button, then 'jump.'
There was a series of brief images, each with a date and time given, starting back in late September. As Harry watched, a person walked into Gringotts, then out; along with the date and time the words "Elapsed Time" was shown along with the minutes and seconds.
The first series showed Lucius Malfoy's brother, Julius, entering and leaving the Bank in late September, and again in late October, the middle of December, and the end of February.
The next series of images was of Narcissa Malfoy. She entered the bank around the middle of October, then again in late December, and finally the middle of March.
Finally, and most interestingly, the images showed Severus Snape entering and leaving the bank, in late October, early January, and late March.
Wordlessly, Harry handed the Omnioculars to Ron, who watched the images. They then put the device back in its fireproof wrapping, Harry put the strap in his teeth, and they leaned back into the flames to reappear again in the fireplace in Grimmauld Place.
"So, what do you think?" Fred asked as George took the package out of Harry's teeth.
"Good choices," Harry said. "How did you come up with those three?"
"It wasn't hard to imagine that you were looking for Death Eaters who showed up at odd times at Gringotts," George replied. "Julius Malfoy lives in Aberdeen – he doesn't need to come to London to do his banking, when there's a branch of Gringotts he could use much more easily."
"And we learned that Narcissa Malfoy has an Ever-Filling purse – or at least, had one," Fred continued. "Yet she came to Gringotts several times before it was lost. And Snape – well, whether he's there on legitimate business or not, the dates and times of his visit indicate he traveled during lunch periods from Hogwarts."
There was a noise behind Fred and George; Fred looked back quickly, then turned and said hurriedly. "We've got to run. Owl us if you have any more questions. And get out of McGonagall's office, quick!" They turned and dashed toward a wall, away from the door of the office. Harry was about to say something when they suddenly opened a section of the wall and disappeared within it, while at the same moment the door of the office began to open.
Harry ducked quickly out of the fire, pulling Ron with him. "We'd better hurry!" he told Ron, and they bolted to the door of McGonagall's office, through it, and down the staircase, although Ron didn't pull the door completely closed. He started back but Harry, hearing the whosh of the fireplace, whispered, "Leave it!" and they continued quickly down the staircase and into the corridor beyond, Harry throwing the Invisibility Cloak over them as they exited the staircase.
"That was too close," Ron breathed as they made their way, under the Cloak, back to the Great Hall, where dinner was set to begin in several minutes. "Who d'you think was coming through the door?"
"Probably McGonagall," Harry guessed. "She may have been at Grimmauld Place on Order business. Maybe that's how Fred and George knew we could use her fireplace to reach them there. I just wonder how they got there themselves. And, why Lupin wasn't in his office."
"So what was the point of looking at those three Death Eaters?" Ron asked. "D'you think they have something to do with You-Know-Who's Horcruxes?"
"Yes," Harry said firmly. "They give us a starting point for which vaults they might hidden in. I'm guessing, but I think Voldemort must send them into Gringotts every so often to check that they're still there."
"I thought he wouldn't have told anybody about them," Ron objected.
"He probably hasn't told them what they are," Harry explained. "Only that he wants them kept safe. If they're ancient artifacts like Hufflepuff's cup, Slytherin's locket, and the Helm of Gryffindor, they might think he's checking up on them for that reason."
"Makes sense," Ron nodded.
After dinner, Harry had Ron write a letter to Bill asking if he could find out the vault numbers for Snape, Narcissa and Julius, hoping that the information would prove useful in some way. Bill's reply was succinct and disappointing, sent via Pigwidgeon returning from delivering their request:
Ron and Harry,
Sorry guys, no can do. It's Gringotts policy that vault numbers be kept strictly confidential. It would mean my job and a heavy Ministry fine to boot if they or the goblins caught me with that information.
Bill
"We had to try," Ron said with a shrug.
Classes resumed after the spring break, and with them came more and more homework; fortunately, with the warmer weather that also came after Easter, students had more opportunity to enjoy fresh air and sun rather than the cloistered atmosphere of their various common rooms.
Unfortunately, more often than not, Ron again began to chose to forego the warmer temperatures and shut himself away in the Library or a corner of the common room, studying his great-uncle's journal and any other book he thought would be useful in discovering the riddle of the Mystery Vault. Often Harry and Hermione would return from a walk along the castle's winding road leading to the front gates to find Ron bent over both schoolbooks and the now-dogeared journal.
"What's really scary," Harry remarked once to Hermione, "is that it looks like Ron's studying even more than you are."
The Hufflepuff-Ravenclaw Quidditch match produced an interesting upset: Hufflepuff won, 260 to 250, with the two Seekers chasing the Golden Snitch in a prolonged battle that ended when the Ravenclaw Seeker lost control during a high-speed turn and careened into the stands, knocking himself unconscious and giving the Hufflepuff Seeker a clear field to pursue the Snitch, which was caught less than a minute later. The win gave Hufflepuff the lead in Quidditch Cup points with 660, then Ravenclaw at 540, and Slytherin and Gryffindor in third and fourth place with 480 and 370 points, respectively. However, Slytherin and Gryffindor still had the final game to play, in mid-May.
And if there was any good that came of the heavy workload of N.E.W.T.-preparation homework, it was that all the seventh-years were far too busy to take time on the weekends to run off to Hogsmeade or elsewhere. In fact, Malfoy's accusation that Harry was the cause of seventh-year liberty being canceled began to backfire on him, as it began to sound as if Malfoy was making excuses for his own falling grades, which seemed to be slipping, even in Snape's Defense Against the Dark Arts class.
"What do you figure?" Ron asked, after they'd surreptitiously watched Malfoy grimace after seeing homework being passed back after grading.
"Like he failed another one," Harry said. "He's swearing at Zabini, I can see his lips moving. I reckon Zabini's about ready to hex him."
Watching Malfoy suffer was only mildly cathartic, however; Harry still had to figure out whether there were vaults inside Gringotts that held Voldemort's Horcruxes, and whether Snape, Julius and Narcissa Malfoy had been visiting them. He was alone on Friday night, staring morosely at his schoolbooks. Hermione had finally convinced Ron (by persuasion or threat, Harry wasn't quite sure) to give up his Vault studies for an afternoon and go for a walk with him. Jon was probably with Deirdre doing something similar.
Bored, needing distraction, Harry picked up his bookbag and pulled the few remaining books in it out, dropping them on the table in front of him. He reached in to clean out the remaining detritus on the bottom of the book bag: scraps of parchment, broken quills, empty candy wrappers and a few odd Every-Flavor Beans. And – a Galleon.
But this was not just any Galleon – this was the fake Galleon Mrs. Weasley had given him months ago, on the day he'd gone to the Ministry with Ron and Hermione for their meeting, as it turned out, with Dolores Umbridge. Staring at the fake coin in his hand, Harry suddenly wondered whether he could get in touch directly with Fred and George. They'd described how to make these for the Order, after all; it was elementary they would have made one for themselves.
Harry stared at the coin for several seconds, wondering if he could figure out how to make it work. For the coins Hermione had made, he just changed the serial number along the side to the day and time of the D.A. meetings and all the other coins changed as well. This time, however, he wanted to communicate only with Fred and George, with a fairly complex message.
Looking, with some annoyance, at the profile of the goblin's head on the obverse, Harry muttered, "How're you supposed to work, anyway?"
To his surprise the goblin turned to him and said, testily, "Just tap me and say the name of the person you want to send the message to, nitwit. If they have a coin it'll get the message you send."
"But – but how do I send the message, then?" Harry, nonplussed, sputtered.
"Write the words onto the face of the coin, you dolt," the goblin growled irritably. "When you're done, tap the coin and say 'Go,' and the message will show on the coin of the person you've sent it to. It's ridiculously simple, really." The goblin shook its head derisively and faced the edge of the coin again.
"Fine," Harry snorted. Tapping the coin, he said, "Fred Weasley, then scratched out a message on it, writing:
Fred - Harry here - Can you think of a way to get the vault numbers of Snape, Narcissa and Julius at Gringotts Bank? I need to know where they might be storing something important for V'mort.
He then tapped the coin and said, "Go," and the coin flashed bright gold briefly. How d'you know whether they've gotten the message? Harry wondered. He put the coin on the table next to his textbook and sat back again. But barely a minute later the coin glowed briefly, then letters began rolling across the face of the coin.
Harry, it's Fred - Tall order, mate — you don't ask for much, do you? Seriously, George and I will give it some thought and get back to you with what we can.
With nothing more he could do on that front for now, Harry threw himself into the two major endeavors for spring: beating Slytherin in his final Quidditch match and studying for N.E.W.T.s. As important as the latter was to his future, Harry knew, he also felt that a decisive win over Slytherin to win the Quidditch Cup would be a nice capper to his years at Hogwarts. Harry pressed the other Gryffindors into practice whenever he could, painting a glowing picture of the abject humiliation the Slytherins would suffer when Gryffindor beat them. It would not be a trivial victory, Harry knew – they had to score at least 300 points to take the Cup away from Hufflepuff – but if he could keep Malfoy (or whomever was playing Seeker for the Slytherins now – Malfoy might have been replaced or quit, for all Harry knew) at bay long enough, then snatch the Snitch, that final victory would be sweet indeed.
Their practice the Saturday of Round 12 of the Vault Tournament was nearly flawless. Ginny, Demelza and Natalie passed the Quaffle expertly to each other, dodging Bludgers hit by Jimmy and Ritchie; they even scored off Ron five times out of the dozen passes they made before Harry set them to practicing steals from each other. He and Ron then played a game of "Bludger Tag" with his Beaters: Jimmy and Ritchie chased them about the goals at one end of the pitch, hitting Bludgers at them, while they tried to keep from being hit. It was hard work all around, but Harry had never felt "soft" practices did anyone much good; he wanted everyone playing full out, even himself, especially for this last game.
After practice, dinner – then four or so hours of homework, and finally, a hot bath in the prefects' bathroom and to bed. Harry smiled to himself as he lay under the covers, mind and body exhausted from the day's exertions – Ron hadn't once, Harry had noticed, said one word about not going to the Vault Tournament.
The next morning, getting ready for breakfast, Harry noticed as he shrugged into his robe there was a faint light coming from one of the pockets. Reaching inside, he pulled out the Galleon and found it flashing a message:
Harry—here are the vault numbers you wanted—would love a fanfare to go with them, we'll have to put that in the next set of coins we make. Snape—789. Lucius & Narcissa Malfoy—814. Julius Malfoy—745. All are special access – requires a goblin to open each vault. –Cheers, Fred and George
"They really got them, then," Ron said in an awed tone when Harry told him and Hermione at breakfast. "How did they manage it?"
"Dunno," Harry said, "I'm glad they did, though."
"What's the plan, then?" Ron asked eagerly. "What're you going to do with them?"
"I –" Harry stopped, looking a bit confused. "You know," he said finally. "I'm not really sure."
"Not really sure?" Hermione looked concerned. "Don't you know why you wanted those numbers, Harry?"
"Um," Harry said, falteringly. "Well… it must've been a good reason…" It was really very strange; he'd been so anxious to get those numbers, yet now that he had them, he couldn't remember why!
"Did you write it down anywhere?" Hermione asked hopefully.
"Well, if I did, I don't remember now!" Harry said, irritated by the question.
"Sorry," Hermione fired back. "I just thought you might have a brainwave about what you're doing, for once!" Ron looked at both of them but wisely held his tongue; he wasn't quite sure what to make of the rare circumstance when Harry and Hermione were upset with each other.
The week before the final Quidditch game, between Gryffindor and Slytherin, was an absolute blur for Harry. There was loads of homework in every subject, as they were in the final weeks before N.E.W.T. examinations; there was Quidditch practice, as much as Harry could coax out of his already pent-up team; the Slytherins were practicing hard, too, if the sign-up sheet for the Quidditch pitch was any indication.
Finally, the Friday night before the game, he, Ron and Hermione, whom he'd finally reconciled with earlier that day, sat in the common room, each with a bottle of butterbeer, the last of a case that had been smuggled in from Madame Rosemerta's.
"Do you really think we can do it tomorrow?" Ron asked, for the third time since they'd opened the butterbeers to toast the next day's game.
"Ron, please stop asking that," Hermione said wearily. "You were brilliant in practice today – you're ready."
"Really think so?" Ron said, beaming, and took a final swig of his butterbeer, draining the bottle. "Yeah, I really felt like I was in the zone today."
"We were all there today," Harry said, draining his bottle as well. "We should have no problem tomorrow as long as we can keep Crabbe and Goyle from knocking anyone's brains out with those Bludgers – Colin said they've gotten quite good at being Beaters this year – 'murderous,' I think was the term he used."
"Jimmy and Ritchie aren't slouches either," Ron pointed out. "They're not in Fred and George's league, but they pack a mean wallop."
"They sure do," Harry agreed. "And just think – next year almost everyone from the team will be back – only you and I graduate this year, Ron."
"Oh, yeah," Ron said, considering that idea. "You know, I wonder who McGonagall will pick to be Captain next year, Ginny or Demelza?"
"What about Natalie?" Hermione put in. "She could do well as Captain – she's got a lot of energy."
"Too young," Ron shook his head. "She'll only be fifth year this fall."
"Oliver Wood was a Captain in his fifth year," Hermione pointed out.
"Well, that was a completely different situation," Ron objected. "He was the oldest player on the team. Katie Bell had just started her second year, and Harry was a first year!"
They debated the merits of Ginny, Demelza or Natalie as Captain for next year for some time, until Harry, yawning, finally decided to head to bed to get some rest for the match the next day.
He was walking along a narrow alleyway that seemed to reach up and out of sight, composed of stacks of books, old cabinets and tables stacked upon each other, and other old, dusty items. One cabinet, a white one, stood out among the others, and a small voice in his head said, this one looks like it will do. Harry made for it, realizing as he did that he was carrying three leather-bound boxes in his arms. He opened the cabinet, placed the boxes inside and shut the door. He pulled out his wand and tapped the cabinet door, saying words that were unfamiliar to him. An ornate "H" appeared on the door. "H" for Harry, he supposed. Very good, the voice in the back of his head said. Harry turned and looked at a cabinet across the from the one he'd just marked; on top of it was a bust of a very ugly wizard wearing a wig and tiara. Harry turned and walked back the way he came, until he came upon the Vanishing Cabinet, on his right. So he was in the Room of Requirement…
Harry's eyes opened and he sat up in bed. Sunlight was streaming in the windows of his dormitory, and Harry shielded his eyes from the brightness. He still felt drained, exhausted, as if he'd barely gotten any sleep at all, even though he must've been out for hours. On top of all that he felt ravenously hungry. He glanced blearily at his watch. It was not good, the time looked like only a few minutes before nine a.m.; if he didn't get a move on he'd miss breakfast. Harry jumped out of bed, fighting off the tiredness, quickly threw on some clothes and raced downstairs to the Great Hall, hoping he could snag something before the food disappeared.
As he ran into the room, Harry saw that even though there were a good number of students gathered at every table, there was no food on any of them. He swore under his breath; now he would have to wait until noon to eat.
At the Gryffindor table, Ron, Hermione and Jon looked up, seeing him, then looked at each other as he trudged tiredly over to where they were sitting. "Are you alright, Harry?" Hermione said anxiously as he sat down.
"No," Harry said shortly. "I missed breakfast."
"Yes, but at least you're here in time for lunch," she said. Ron and Jon were both watching him carefully.
"Yeah, if I can wait that long," Harry groused, rubbing his rumbling stomach.
"What d'you mean?" Ron asked. "It'll be lunch in ten minutes!"
"What?" Harry said, surprised. He looked at his watch. Now that he was more awake, he could clearly see the hands on his watch. They did not indicate a few minutes before nine a.m., as he'd thought earlier, but about ten minutes before noon. "Oh," he said, looking back at them. "I misread my watch earlier."
"When did you wake up?" Jon asked.
"Just a few minutes ago," Harry said, looking around the other tables. "I ran down here to try to get to breakfast, and find out it's almost time for lunch." He didn't see Ginny or any of the other Gryffindor Quidditch team members at the table. "Today's the Quidditch match, isn't it?" he asked, trying to remember if it was this Saturday or the next.
"It's today," Ron said nervously. "Blimey, Harry, what happened to you last night?"
Harry rubbed his eyes under his glasses. "I had a strange dream last night…"
"We had a strange night, period," Jon said emphatically.
Harry looked up at him. "What do you mean – ? Oh, good."
Lunch had just appeared on the table, plates full of roast beef, chicken and fish, bowls of corn and peas, potatoes prepared various ways, and baskets full of bread and rolls. Harry, unable to resist, immediately began filling his plate. He had just begun to eat when he noticed Hermione, Ron and Jon all watching him intently. "What?" he said finally, through a mouthful of roast beef and potatoes.
Hermione looked at Ron and Jon, who both shrugged. She turned back to Harry. "Do you want to tell us about last night?" she asked, staring at him intently.
"What about it?" Harry was hungrily stuffing more roast beef and mashed potatoes in his mouth, washing it down with great gulps of pumpkin juice. "We talked for a while then went to sleep."
"After that," Ron prompted.
"After that," Harry said impatiently, "I woke up this morning dreaming I was wandering around in the Room of Requirement stuffing boxes into cabinets."
Hermione gasped, to Harry's surprised. She, Ron and Jon exchanged glances again, now looking positively alarmed. "Don't you remember what you did last night, Harry?"
"I just told you!" Harry argued, now getting annoyed. "Unless –" his annoyance evaporated as he grasped what they must mean. "You're saying that something else happened last night, after I went to sleep?"
"Yes," said Jon.
"Quite a bit, actually," Ron added.
"So now will you tell me, now that Harry's here," Hermione said impatiently. "Especially since it has to do with –" she stopped, looking around before saying, in a lowered voice, "Well, with you-know-whats."
That startled Harry so much he stopped eating. "D'you mean –?"
"Yes," Hermione said, "Those you-know-whats."
Harry was rapidly losing his appetite. He looked at Jon. "You'll have to excuse us," he said, getting up from the table. Hermione and Ron followed suit. "We have something private to discuss."
"About those 'you-know-whats?' " Jon said, looking at them.
"Yes, sorry," Harry said. "But we can't discuss that with you –"
"You mean," Jon said even more quietly. "The cup, the locket, and the helmet?"
Ron's jaw dropped while Hermione stifled a gasp of surprise. Harry simply stared at Jon for some time before saying, "Come on," and beckoning them all to follow him.
The four of them followed Harry out of the Great Hall, up the main staircase, along several other corridors and up another staircase, to the right and then to the left, until they came to a locked classroom door that opened as Harry pointed his wand. The four of them ducked inside it.
Once inside, Harry relocked the door and Imperturbed it. He moved close to Jon, his wand still out, looking very tense. "I need to know what you know about those objects."
"They're Horcruxes," Jon said flatly.
"How did you find out?" Harry demanded.
"I've always known what a Horcrux is," Jon said, his gaze steady on Harry. "It's about the only explanation for how Voldemort could have survived a Killing Curse rebounding off you and striking him."
"How did you find out about Horcruxes?" Hermione asked, her eyes wide.
"At school," Jon said, turning to her.
"School?" Ron sputtered. "They teach you about that in school in America?"
"It wasn't explicitly taught," Jon explained. "In fact, talking about them is even more discouraged there than here. But we don't try to censure the information – there are books that discuss the consequences of creating a Horcrux, both legally and morally."
"So you know about Horcruxes," Harry concluded. "Then what about last night?"
"What I didn't know, until last night, was that Voldemort had made more than one of them," Jon replied. "I've always assumed, up until last night, that you were probably looking for a single Horcrux."
"You knew we were looking for Horcruxes?" Ron blurted.
"I guessed you were sometime late last year, before the Christmas break. But I didn't know for certain until last night."
"What happened last night?" Harry asked.
"I'd gone up to my room about midnight," Jon said. "I remember you, Hermione and Ron were sitting at a table in the common room, talking. The second-years in my room were giggling and telling each other stories about what had happened that day, but I tuned it out and fell asleep. The next thing I knew, you and Ron were standing over my bed, asking me to come with you."
Ron took up the story. "After we'd gone up to bed, I'd no sooner fallen asleep," he said to Harry, "than you woke me up again. You had a real strange look in your eye – I'd never seen you like that before. You even called me 'Ronald' – 'Ronald, would you get up, please?,' you'd said. 'There's something we must do tonight.'
"We went down and got Jon, then we got under your Invisibility Cloak and went out through the portrait and down several corridors to the –"
"—To the Room of Requirement," Harry finished.
"You remember, then?" Ron asked hopefully.
"No, just a wild guess," Harry said, with a touch of irony. "We seem to be coming back to that room all the time."
"Well, we did go there," Jon confirmed. "You walked up and down in front of it three times, and that big oaken door appeared, just like it has for me. But we didn't go inside right away. After the door appeared you said, 'We'll wait outside until the final two members of our party have joined us.'"
"And who were they?" Harry asked, wondering.
"Dobby and Kreacher," Ron said. "They popped in out of thin air right beside us. Dobby was all excited – said he was proud to help Harry Potter in his special mission. Kreacher, of course, was a different matter."
Harry could imagine. Kreacher, compelled to obey him, although he much would have preferred to have Bellatrix Lestrange as his mistress, hated Harry and all other "blood traitors" – pure-blood wizards who didn't believe in blood purity and associated with half-bloods or Muggles.
"I imagine he wasn't too happy to be there," Harry guessed.
"He wasn't," Ron agreed. "He bowed real low – I thought his nose scraped the floor – and said 'Master calls Kreacher and Kreacher is here, though Kreacher would rather that Master cut off Kreacher's head – or his own – than ask anything of him.'
"Well, you said, 'Be that as it may, Kreacher, you are here and we do have things to do.' You were very polite, Harry – almost more polite than even Hermione is – but when you got done speaking, Kreacher followed us into the Room of Requirement with nary a word more."
"Inside there," Ron continued, "was the biggest room I'd ever seen. It looked bigger than the Great Hall, and it was filled with row after row of –"
"—Junk," Harry finished. "Broken furniture, books, jewelry, toys, piles of potion bottles, hats, old rusty swords and helmets. Right?"
"Are you sure you don't remember what happened last night, Harry?" Jon asked.
"I'm on a roll, I suppose," Harry replied with a dry smile. Although he felt certain he could guess, he asked, "What did we do next?"
"We walked down one of the alleyways until we came to that Vanishing Cabinet," Ron continued. "The one Fred and George tossed Montague in when he tried to take points from 'em while he was in the Inquisitorial Squad."
"And the one the Death Eaters came through last year," Harry added quietly.
"Er, right," Ron said, falteringly. That was when his brother, Bill, had been attacked by the werewolf Fenrir Greyback, who'd come through the Cabinet with the Death Eaters. "Well, you told us we were going to find out where it would take us. But I thought we already knew where it would take us – to the other Vanishing Cabinet in Borgin & Burkes."
"There were three silver bands around the Cabinet," Jon continued. "To keep anyone who used it from getting out, I suppose. But you just tapped each one with your wand, Harry, and they fell apart and slipped to the floor."
Harry frowned, wondering what kind of magic he could have performed on those bands to make them fall away like that.
"We got inside the Cabinet," Jon continued, "and when we shut the doors the Cabinet seemed to spin around, faster and faster, until it finally thumped to a halt. Harry, you lit your wand and pushed open the door, saying 'Let us see just where it is we have arrived.' It was pitch black outside the Cabinet, but as we stepped out of it we could see more and more things around us."
"We were inside some kind of vault, Harry!" Ron said excitedly. "We could see mounds of Galleons, Sickles and Knuts on the floor. There were piles of gemstones, gold and silver jewelry, even ingots of gold and bars of white metal Jon said was platinum.
"But the only thing you went for, Harry, was a leather-bound box you found near the vault door. You seemed really happy to see it too." But then –" Ron threw up his hands indignantly "— I just knew something would go wrong – because it always does! – and it did."
"You asked Dobby to bring the box over to the Vanishing Chest," Jon said next, "but he couldn't even budge it off the floor. Then you asked him to levitate it, but that was hopeless too."
"Then you asked me to levitate it," Ron said. "Well, I didn't think I stood a chance, but –" Ron puffed out his chest a bit "– it lifted off the floor just as pretty as you please!"
"Finally," Jon went on, "you asked Dobby to step under the box and see if he could Apparate with it. We didn't think that would work, if levitation wouldn't, but he had no problem Apparating the box over to the Vanishing Cabinet – as long as it wasn't touching the floor of the vault."
"Strange," Harry said, trying to make sense of these facts. He had already recognized the leather box – it sounded very similar to the ones old Hepzibah Smith had kept Helga Hufflepuff's cup and Salazar Slytherin's locket in, even though it wasn't the right size for either of those artifacts. For now, however, before he divulged anything about that, he wanted to hear the rest of the story. "There were no other boxes inside the vault?"
"Interesting that you ask that," Jon said, "because that was the very next thing you brought up. You said, 'There are two more boxes similar to this one, in two other vaults. Jon, I want you and Dobby to find the vault numbered 745. Dobby, you'll Apparate inside, bringing Jon with you – there are Anti-Apparition spells that will prevent any wizard from getting in by himself – but you'll be able to do it.
"'Once inside, locate the box. Jon will levitate it and you will then Apparate it and him outside the vault. Jon, be careful not to touch the vault door – if you do, it will suck you inside – and I'm given to understand that the sensation is not pleasant. I will locate the other box, with Kreacher's help.'"
"Ron, what did you do while Harry and Jon went to get the other boxes?" Hermione wanted to know.
"Guarded the first box, I suppose," Ron said, with an unnerved expression on his face. "I don't mind telling you it was rather creepy, all alone in there. Both of them were gone for several mintues."
"It took Dobby and me most of that time just to find vault 745," Jon said. It was up one level and there so many vaults – and we could hear dragons roaring somewhere, we just couldn't tell how far away they were. Finally we found it and Dobby Apparated us in. From there it went pretty easy: We found the leather box, much smaller than the first one – although Dobby couldn't lift or levitate that one either – and I floated it up so he could get under it and Apparate us out of there and back in front of the vault where you were, Ron.
"We were back before Harry and Kreacher. Dobby was rather afraid for you, Harry – he kept saying, 'Dobby should go find Harry Potter. Kreacher is a wicked, mean elf – he doesn't want to obey Harry Potter's orders.' I told him to give you a few more minutes, and you and Kreacher appeared within a short time later."
Harry listened to this story with a growing anxiety. He could remember none of this, even though it obviously took place over the span of long minutes. "Then what – did we return with the boxes?"
"No, actually – things got really interesting at this point," Jon said, and Ron nodded agreement. "Dobby and Kreacher Apparated us inside and we had the three boxes lined up in front of the Vanishing Cabinet. Harry, you then said, 'We are nearly finished with our midnight adventure, gentlemen.'"
"I actually said that?" Harry sounded incredulous.
"Told you, you weren't acting yourself last night," Ron said matter-of-factly.
"Anyway," Jon continued. "You took three Galleons from a nearby stack of coins and placed on in front of each of the boxes. One by one you waved your wand at each Galleon, and it Transfigured into an exact duplicate of each box it was in front of.
"You took three more Galleons and, opening each of the original boxes one by one, you Transfigured the Galleon into a replica of the object inside – a two-handled cup, a locket, and a gold helmet. You levitated each of the original objects from their original boxes into the duplicate boxes, then replaced the duplicated objects into the original boxes. In other words, the old switcheroo."
"With all that done," Ron said next. "You turned to Dobby and said, 'I must ask one final favor of you, Dobby. Will you return two of these boxes to the vaults from which they were obtained? The middle sized box, the one Kreacher and I returned with, goes in vault number 789; the other one, of course, in number 745.' And Dobby, of course, was very happy to accommodate you. He grabbed the two boxes and Apparated away. That didn't make Kreacher very happy, I can tell you.
"It was almost scary." Ron paused a moment, a look of awe on his face. "I never saw a house-elf look so angry – and Kreacher doesn't look any too pleasant, even on his best behavior. I dunno what surprised me more – what Kreacher did next, or what Harry did."
"What did he do?" Hermione blurted out, and –
"What did I do?" Harry said, at the same moment. Ron, looking a bit intimidated, gulped and said nothing.
But Jon took up the story again. "Kreacher started walking toward the vault door. Harry said, 'Don't follow him, Kreacher,' but Kreacher didn't stop. Harry then said, 'I forbid it, Kreacher!' and Kreacher turned around and hissed at him, like a snake."
"No," Hermione gasped, covering her mouth.
Jon nodded. "Yes. He then raised a gnarled old hand and started to snap his fingers, presumably to Disapparate, but Harry pointed his wand – a bolt of blue lighting erupted from it – and Kreacher was frozen."
"Frozen? Harry!" Hermione whirled round to stare at him, incensed. "How could you do that to a house-elf you're keeping in slavery?!"
"I don't even remember doing it!" Harry yelled, quite forgetting they were hiding in an empty classroom.
"How can you not remember stuff like this?!" Hermione shouted back. "You remember all your dreams! Why can't you remember this?"
"I don't know!" Harry bellowed. "It sounds like I was –" He stopped short, realizing what he was about to say:
Possessed.
Could that be what was going on here? The facts fit – when Ginny had been possessed by Voldemort during her first year at Hogwarts, she could remember almost nothing of the experience. Harry could remember nothing about what had happened last night.
And the story Ron and Jon were telling seemed incredible – how could Voldemort have blundered so badly in collecting all of his Horcruxes (if indeed the leather-bound boxes they described contained what Harry assumed they did) in one spot, so easily accessible?
Hermione, whose eyes had been blazing with anger at whatever injustice she imagined had been perpetrated upon Kreacher, softened as she saw the horror in Harry's eyes. "Harry, what – what is it?" she asked haltingly, afraid that something horrible was about to happen to him.
"Could – could Voldemort have possessed me?" Harry said, looking at Ron and Jon. "You said I was acting differently – was I – was I acting like – him?"
But both Ron and Jon were staring at him as if the very suggestion were ludicrous. Ron was shaking his head emphatically.
"No," Jon said. "Voldemort didn't possess you, Harry. Listen. After you froze Kreacher, you walked over to him, bent over and looked him in the eye. 'I hope you'll forgive me for that one day,' you said to him. 'But I rather imagined you needed some time to cool off.' " Ron reacted with a snort of laughter, while Jon chuckled. Even Hermione smiled while shaking her head reproachfully.
"And you picked him up and put him into the Vanishing Cabinet," Jon finished, "just as Dobby reappeared and told you that the copies of the boxes were in the vaults they had come from. If Voldemort was possessing you, he was acting very unlike himself."
"But it's not out of the question," Harry persisted. "If he was pretending to be me, that is probably just how I would act, isn't it?"
Hermione and Ron both nodded, reluctantly, and Jon shrugged. "It was a flawless performance, then," Jon said simply, "from a creature who seems notorious for having no empathy or conscience."
"Perhaps so," Harry said. "What else happened?"
"Not much left to tell from there," Ron said simply. "We got into the Vanishing Cabinet again, it spun round a bit, and we stepped out into the Room of Requirement with a frozen Kreacher, Dobby, and the three boxes."
"And then what?" Harry asked. "Where are the boxes now?"
"Still in there, we think," Jon said. "You unfroze Kreacher; he slumped to the floor in a deep sleep, and you asked Dobby to take him down to the kitchen and fix a place for him to sleep undisturbed, after he'd finished helping you. And –" He gave Harry a significant look "— you went and got that great big bloody axe that was in the room, came back, and broke the Vanishing Cabinet into pieces."
"Then you picked up those boxes, said, 'We'll return shortly and we can go back to bed,' then you and Dobby walked off into one of those alleyways of broken furniture," Ron said. "You were gone for quite a while; we thought for a bit you might have gotten lost, or something."
Harry stood up. "Come on," he said, striding to the door. "We need to find out what was in those boxes –"
"Oh my God!" Hermione jumped to her feet as well, looking at her watch. "Harry, it's almost time for the Quidditch match!"