Chapter 36
RESURRECTION
"HERMIONE!! NOOOOO!!!"
Harry, Ron and Jon had all screamed as they saw the green light strike her. There was another loud CRACK and Harry's legs were able to move again.
"VOLDEMORT!!" he bellowed. He wanted nothing more at that moment than to kill Voldemort with his bare hands. Before he could do more than turn toward him, however, Voldemort had trained his wand next on Harry. "Avada –!"
But Jon had thrust his own wand straight into the air. "Erupto Patronum!" he shouted. There was a brilliant flash and an expanding globe of silver-white light that passed harmlessly through Harry and the other Hogwarts students.
Voldemort and the Death Eaters, however, were all thrown back a dozen feet, as if hit with a Blasting Curse. They sprawled about, confused and trying to right themselves, as Jon shouted, "Accio Wands!"
Each of their wands flew from the Death Eater holding it, landing unerringly in front of its owner. "Fight them!" Jon shouted. Harry immediately scooped up his own wand, as did Ginny, Luna and Deirdre. Ron, however, did not let go of Hermione's body; he held her tightly, sobbing.
Voldemort himself was staggered, nearly falling before he recovered and, snarling with rage, turned his attention back to Jon, who was already eager to face him.
"YOU WANTED A FIGHT, VOLDEMORT?!" Jon roared. "YOU'VE GOT ONE!!" A beam of pure white light shot from the tip of his wand to Voldemort's, linking them together.
Harry, who had just taken advantage of Bellatrix's momentary distraction to Stupefy her, gaped in wonder: he thought Jon had somehow invoked Priori Incantatem with Voldemort's wand, but the effect, however, was different – the beam that had joined his and Voldemort's wand three years before had been a deep gold. The beam now linking Jon and Voldemort's wands was a brilliant white, and growing brighter by the second.
Ginny was dueling Lucius Malfoy, while Luna fought Narcissa and Deirdre battled Wormtail. Harry wanted to help Ginny but Crabbe and Goyle, the last Death Eaters to recover, had trained their own wands on Jon. Harry shouted "Protego!" forming a shield to deflect their Stunning Spells.
Glancing back toward Ginny and Luna, Harry saw that Narcissa had the Body-Bind Curse put on her and that both of them were now dueling Lucius Malfoy. As he heard a cry of "Expelliarmus!" he turned to see Deirdre's wand flying from her hand. Wormtail ran toward her, drawing back his wand for a final curse. Instead of fleeing, however, Deirdre ran toward him. Startled, Wormtail froze and Deirdre spun as she reached him, transforming into centaur form as she did so. Her powerful back legs kicked out, catching Wormtail full in the chest and flinging him backward. He flew nearly twenty feet, hitting the ground and lying still.
At that moment the duel between Jon and Voldemort ended in a tremendous BOOM as Voldemort's wand literally exploded, throwing him backwards onto the steps of the school, and the beam of white light expanded into a brilliant sphere floating before Jon. It was so bright that everyone, Jon included, was forced to shield their eyes from the light. A wind began, whirling around and around the edge of the sphere until it sounded like they were standing next to a cyclone. At the same time Harry heard a sound, like a chorus of voices, singing in the distance; it seemed to come from within the sphere itself. Whatever the sphere was, it didn't seem to be of Voldemort's making; lying half-stunned on the steps of Hogwarts, he stared at it with as much surprise as Harry had.
Jon extended his wand toward the sphere, mouthing words Harry couldn't hear over the wind. He seemed oblivious to Crabbe and Goyle, who were trying to break Harry's Shield Charm; Harry Disarmed them and shouted "Levicorpus!" – both Death Eaters turned, suspended in the air by their ankles, their wands now out of reach.
A wave of giddiness suddenly overtook Harry; he thought he'd been Stunned for a moment. Looking about, he realized he'd spun back toward Voldemort, his wand pointing up toward the castle, above the glowing sphere floating between Jon and Voldemort. He glanced to his left; Crabbe and Goyle were still floundering with their ankles pointing skyward. He Summoned their wands and pocketed them.
That left only Lucius Malfoy among the Death Eaters; but he, seeing Crabbe and Goyle helpless, became enraged and, screaming "Crucio!" caught Luna for a moment before forced by Ginny's Shield Charm pressing against him to release it.
The sphere, which had been floating before Jon, had begun to slowly move toward him. As Harry watched, it touched the tip of his wand, which seemed to draw it in, becoming blindingly white itself.
Jon fell to his knees in front of Ron and Hermione's body, turning with the wand in his hand toward her. "No," Ron said weakly, "Don't touch her –" His arm went out to stop the wand, but Jon's hand slipped under his and the wand touched Hermione's chest.
A sound, like a great rushing of air into a vacuum, shook the air around them, and the light blazing from the end of Jon's wand diffused into Hermione's body, which shook violently. Ron held her tightly, frightened by the spasms of her body, but after barely a second they stopped. A moment later, her chest expanded as she took a breath, and her eyes fluttered open.
Hermione was alive again.
"Oh my God!" Ron gasped, hugging her tightly. "You're alive!"
"Of c-course," she answered feebly. "H-how'd I get on the ground?" But Ron was no longer listening. He looked up at Harry, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief, then at Jon.
"How can Hermione be alive?" Deirdre said in astonishment. "She was dead!" She turned to Jon, her eyes filled with questions.
Harry was stunned as well. It was impossible to bring someone back from the dead, but Jon had done it, somehow.
But they had no time to discuss it – there was still Voldemort and Malfoy to contend with.
Voldemort had pulled himself erect. Standing on the front steps of Hogwarts, he screamed at the last standing Death Eater. "Lucius! Destroy them!"
Jon turned and pointed his wand at Malfoy, as did Harry, Ginny, and Luna. Deirdre, still in centaur form, turned to look at him as well.
"I freed you from Azkaban!" Voldemort shouted. "Now, fight for your master! For victory!"
But Malfoy, under so many wands, drew away from them, his eyes wide. Harry could see fear in them, fear as deep as the day Voldemort returned, castigating his followers who had left him for dead in the forests of Albania for fourteen years. With not even a glance toward his wife, lying on the ground under the Body-Bind Curse, he turned and ran for the gates of Hogwarts.
Ginny shouted and sent a Stunner after him, but missed and Harry said, "Let him go." He turned back to Jon and saw him striding toward Voldemort, his wand extended.
Voldemort, now alone and wandless, turned and ran up the steps toward the doors of the school, but as he approached them, they swung shut. Voldemort pulled against the handles but they would not budge. He spun to face Jon, who had followed him up the steps and pushed him against the front doors, his wand against the Dark Lord's breast.
"I really, really, want to kill you," Jon breathed, his voice barely more than a whisper. Voldemort glared back at him, his red eyes full of deepest loathing and yes, fear as well, Harry knew. Harry wondered if the American would do it: Jon had never seemed more angry, more beyond reason or control, than at this moment.
Finally, however, Jon shook his head and moved away slightly, letting the wand fall to his side. "It's not my place to do that, though," he said, looking back at Harry. "It has to be your call."
Harry started toward, but stopped as Ginny reached a hand toward him. "Wait, Harry," she said. "Where did you send your Patronus?"
"I sent a Patronus?" Harry said, surprised. "When?"
"It was right after you stopped those two Death Eaters," Luna said, pointing toward Crabbe and Goyle. "It ran into Hogwarts."
To do what? To find whom? Harry wondered. Who could he want to send word to inside the castle –
Of course! He'd sent the word!
"Bind him," Harry said, pointing to Voldemort. Jon flicked his wand and heavy ropes shot out, pressing Voldemort's arms tightly against his body. "Do the same to the others."
Shortly Bellatrix, Narcissa, Crabbe and Goyle were revived, bound and seated on the ground in front of the staircase leading up to the school doors. Harry, Jon and Voldemort were standing at the top of the stairs, Voldemort bound between them. Ginny, Luna and Deirdre now held their wands on the Death Eaters, while Ron brought a weak and disoriented Hermione off to one side, holding her in his arms and murmuring soothing words to her.
"What are we waiting for, Harry?" Ginny finally asked anxiously, as a minute passed with nothing else happening.
"We're waiting for someone to pop up," Harry said.
"Who?" Deirdre asked.
Crack.
"Harry Potter has given Dobby the words!" Dobby said happily, bowing so low his long nose nearly touched the ground in front of him. "Now, Dobby has brought him the – eeek!"
Dobby was holding up a sack that appeared too small to hold all three of the boxes Harry remembered; the house-elf had caught sight of Voldemort, standing between Jon and Harry, and flinched violently, leaping behind Harry and peeking out around him. "It is – it is He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!"
"Yes, Dobby, it's him," Harry said, nodding wearily.
"Has Harry Potter bested him?" Dobby asked, looking at the ropes binding the Dark Lord.
"Almost," Harry said. Turning to Jon he said, "Bring him along, let's get this over with."
They led Voldemort down the front steps of the school and stopped in front of the bound Death Eaters. Harry took the sack from Dobby and looked inside. The inside was larger than it appeared; he could see the boxes and something else inside the sack. Harry pulled out the boxes, opening each one in turn and taking out the locket, the cup, and the helmet and setting them on the ground.
Bellatrix and Narcissa exchanged furtive glances. Harry, seeing them, said "I suspect Voldemort never told you there was more than one of these, even though he gave clues to the Death Eaters gathered about him when he returned." I, Voldemort had said, three years ago, who have gone further than anybody along the path that leads to immortality.
Bellatrix cursed him, but silently; there was still a Silencing Charm on her. Ignoring her, Harry turned back to the sack Dobby had brought the boxes in, reaching in to retrieve the final object it contained. His hand came out holding – the Sorting Hat.
"Why did you bring this with you?" Harry asked, looking at Dobby.
"Harry Potter told Dobby to fetch it along when he brought the boxes to you," Dobby said, looking anxious. "Does Harry Potter need something else?"
"No…" Harry said bemusedly, staring at the Hat. It looked – well, asleep, for lack of a better word; its jagged tear of a mouth and folds where the eyes would be were closed. He hadn't been this close to it, touching it, since … since …
"Since I fought Tom Riddle's diary," Harry finished, aloud, looking up at Voldemort, whose eyes locked onto his.
"Harry!" Ginny shouted. "Careful! Don't let him do anything to your mind –"
"Don't worry," Harry said, still staring at the Dark Lord. "He can't do anything. He's already tried that, tried to get inside my head. He won't try again."
"Don't be so sure of that, boy," Voldemort hissed.
"You shall not harm Harry Potter!" Dobby shouted. He looked fully prepared to fight Voldemort, if need be, even though it would mean certain death.
"Dobby," Harry said, thinking quickly. "There are still some students and teachers inside the school."
"Dobby knows, Harry Potter," the house-elf said, nodding vigorously. "Some of them, bad, bad boys, chased Dobby, to see what was in the bag Dobby carried, until he remembered to Apparate here."
"Do you know a spell," Harry asked, "that can put them to sleep until we come to wake them up?"
Dobby looked shocked. "Sir! Harry Potter mustn't think Dobby would harm any wizard, even by accident!"
"Well, that's the problem, Dobby," Harry said at once. "Some of the students want to harm other students –" Dobby looked stricken "— maybe some of the teachers as well, and I want you to put them to sleep before anyone else can be hurt. Can you please do that, Dobby?"
Dobby was wringing his hands, looking upset. "Dobby will have to punish himself very thoroughly afterwards, Harry Potter, but he will do it."
"No, Dobby! Don't punish –" But with a loud crack the house-elf had disappeared.
Sighing, Harry turned his attention back to the Sorting Hat. The last time he'd had it, back in the Chamber of Secrets, he had pulled the Sword of Gryffindor from it to kill the basilisk, which had nearly killed him in return as one of its fangs penetrated his arm. It was that fang, and its venom, that he'd used to destroy the diary, which had been Tom Riddle's first Horcrux. Fortunately, Gryffindor's sword, which had been drenched in basilisk blood and venom as well, had not been harmed –
Harry stopped, tasting an idea. If the Sword of Gryffindor had not been harmed by basilisk venom, which could destroy Horcruxes, perhaps he could use the Sword to destroy these Horcruxes!
Turning the Hat over, Harry looked into it, thinking intently, I need, I need the Sword. Please send the Sword… He closed his eyes, concentrating mightily on the Sword of Gryffindor. Please, it must come, I need it…
"Look!" Luna shouted, and at the same moment Harry felt the grip of a sword in his hand. He pulled it free and opened his eyes: the Sword of Gryffindor was in his hand, its silver blade and ruby-encrusted handle gleaming in the sunlight.
Glancing at the Dark Lord, Harry once again saw a flicker of fear in Voldemort's eyes. He held the blade up, noting that Voldemort unconsciously tried to shrink away, and said, "I think you have reason to fear this sword. If I'm right, it can destroy Horcruxes, like basilisk venom can. That was why you wanted this sword, when you came back to Hogwarts years ago. Not to make it a Horcrux, but to keep it from destroying the ones you'd created."
Voldemort said nothing. Harry walked over to where the three Horcruxes lay and selected the locket, the smallest one, placing it about ten feet in front of the Dark Lord. Holding the sword in both hands over it, he thrust the tip downward against the locket's heavy golden case.
But the sword tip would not penetrate the locket, no matter how he tried. After half a dozen attempts, he stopped, frustrated and angry at his foolishness. He'd been wrong about the Sword, after all.
Jon, however, had watched him carefully, and suggested, "Harry, why don't you open the locket and stab it from the inside?"
"No one knows the secret of Slytherin's locket but myself," Voldemort said, contemptuously. "And you will never prise that from me."
The secret of Slytherin. Harry turned to Voldemort with a calculating look. What did Voldemort tend to rely on as Slytherin's Heir –? His ability to speak Parseltongue!
Harry knelt down next to the locket, looking intently at the serpentine S, encrusted with small green stones, very much resembling a snake, and said, "Open."
There were several gasps, from the Death Eaters watching as well as Luna and Deirdre. With a small click the locket popped open. As it did, within the glass lining the inside of the locket a pair of human eyes appeared: Tom Riddle's eyes, Harry realized, before they had become red and slitted.
Harry raised the sword again, but as he stared down at the locket the voice of Tom Riddle spoke to him, soft and serpent-like.
"Foolish boy, you have never understood the power you now wish to throw away! I am the key to limitless power, to immortality!
"Harry!" Ginny screamed. "Destroy it! It's trying to stop you!"
Harry looked up, then raised the sword higher, but the eyes within the locket spoke again. "I can show you magic beyond your dreams, Harry Potter! Magic beyond your wildest imaginings!"Both Ginny and Luna were shouting at him now to destroy the locket. Harry closed his eyes, but the sound of Riddle's voice only intensified.
"Think of what you could do with such power, Potter! With my knowledge, you could do things you only dream of now!"
"And what of your body?" Harry asked grimly. "What shall become of it? Should I kill it, only to have it return again and again?"
"It is no concern of mine," Riddle's eyes narrowed. "I have already been cast off – should I give allegiance to he who threw me away?" The eyes held Harry's gaze…hypnotic, mesmerizing…
"You lie," Harry said, and thrust the Sword of Gryffindor downward. There was a clang of metal against metal. Both the locket and the real Voldemort screamed. A surge of pain exploded in his scar – Voldemort's scream was in his head as well as his ears. Trying to shut his mind to it, Harry drove the sword harder into the locket. The scream slowly died away. When Harry withdrew the sword from the locket, the eyes were gone from behind the broken pieces of glass.
Bellatrix was straining madly, silently against her bonds; the Silencing Charm still kept her from speaking aloud. Narcissa shook uncontrollably, as if she were freezing even in the middle of June. Only Crabbe and Goyle sat quietly, apparently content to believe that Voldemort would soon reassert his power, destroy Harry and his friends, and release them. Wormtail, who had not moved since Deirdre kicked him, lay quietly.
Wordlessly, Harry attacked the other two Horcruxes, jabbing the sword into Hufflepuff's cup and Gryffindor's Helm, piercing them both, while Voldemort and the Death Eaters looked on. Each Horcrux screamed as its fragment of soul departed to whatever fate awaited it. Bellatrix was shrieking silently at Harry while Narcissa looked away, unable to even bear watching the destruction of the Dark Lord's soul and her failure. After the first Horcrux, Voldemort had remained silent, although the searing pain in Harry's scar remained.
Finally stepping back from the broken pieces of the Founders' artifacts, Harry put his hand to his scar. It was even more painful than when he had begun – Voldemort was enraged, furious with him – but Harry had to keep on until the final Horcrux had been destroyed.
"Now," he said slowly, "there is only one Horcrux left. Where is the snake, Nagini?"
"No one has seen it, Harry," Ginny said, looking around, as were Jon, Luna and Deirdre, and Ron and Hermione as well, off to one side. "Maybe it's somewhere in the castle."
"I don't think so," Harry said, still holding his forehead. "Voldemort knew, or at least suspected, that I'd found out about his Horcruxes. If anything, he has it hidden or well-protected, probably both. It may be here, Disillusioned like the Death Eaters were."
"We can find out." Hermione had spoken; she was slowly getting to her feet despite Ron's protests. She raised her wand and said, "Sauromenum revelio!" A moment later she pointed toward the west, behind them. "It's out there somewhere. I didn't get much from the spell – the snake is probably Disillusioned, like you thought, Harry."
His scar still throbbing, Harry turned to face west. "Let's try this the easy way first," he said. "Ginny, Luna, stand ready to cast Freezing Charms." They both nodded and readied themselves.
Harry pointed his wand ahead of him and shouted "Accio Nagini!" There was a rustling of grass and a muffled hiss. If Nagini was being pulled toward him, it was well Disillusioned – invisible or nearly so. "When you see it, Freeze it!" he shouted, then pointed his wand again and said, "Aguamenti!"
A spray of water shot from the tip of his wand, like a nozzle set on wide. As the water sprayed out, a snake-like outline could be seen rushing toward Harry, hissing as it came. Ginny and Luna both shouted "Frigio!"
The water froze instantly around Nagini, its hissing cut off abruptly. It fell, amid a shower of ice crystals, at Harry's feet. Harry hefted the Sword of Gryffindor in his left hand, wincing from the pain still throbbing through his scar, and raised it above him to strike.
Yes! Kill the snake!
His arm was about to move of its own accord when Harry realized that the thought had not been his own. It had been Voldemort's. Why would Voldemort wish the snake, his final Horcrux, dead?
Only if it were not a Horcrux!
"Pretty clever," Harry said, turning round to face Voldemort again. "Pretending that your pet snake was the last Horcrux. If you hadn't given it away just now –" Harry pointed to his still-painful scar "— I never would've rumbled to it."
"Shall I tell you what my first choice would have been, Harry Potter?" Voldemort said in his high, clear voice. "You will find it most ironic, I'm sure. She was a very special woman, your mother."
Harry's entire body went cold. "No," he whispered, so softly no one else heard him.
"She, of anyone I've ever met save for Dumbledore, and of course, myself, impressed me with her intelligence and her will. She was admired and liked among her peers at Hogwarts – even the Slytherins respected her power – especially your dearest enemy, Harry – Severus Snape."
"No," Harry said, more loudly this time, as if saying the word could deny reality or the truth he felt in the Dark Lord's words.
"I intended to use your death to make her my seventh and final Horcrux. She would never even have known. But she chose to sacrifice herself for you, and in so doing almost brought me to ruin.
"Now, seventeen years later, we come to this. You will never find the final Horcrux, Harry Potter! Even if you kill me –" Voldemort's serpentine face was a mask of rage, fear and pain "— I will return."
"Monster!" Harry shouted. He turned and in a few steps he stood almost toe-to-toe with the Dark Lord, pressing his wand against Voldemort's throat. His breath was rasping in and out of his lungs. His and Voldemort's rage and loathing mingled as he felt the words of the Killing Curse in his throat.
"Do it," Voldemort said softly. "Do it."
"Nooo, Harry, NOOO!" Hermione screamed, and both Ginny and Ron were shouting at him as well to stop.
At that moment, however, Harry no longer cared about his life, or anyone else's for that matter. It would be so simple, so easy, to shout the Killing Curse and be done with Voldemort forever. It was no one's concern, really, but his. Harry's mouth opened, but before the words could reach his tongue, another voice rang out.
"Potter, stop!"
Harry turned, jolted. That oily, disdainful sneer could only belong to one person. Standing beside the other Death Eaters was the greasy-haired, sallow-skinned figure of Severus Snape. Unexpectedly, Wormtail was standing as well, his expression a mask of fear.
"SNAPE!!" Harry bellowed. His wand snapped forward to point at Snape's chest, as did Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Luna's wands.
"Greetings, Severus," Voldemort said, almost conversationally. "I began to wonder if you had left us, as Lucius did."
"Hardly," Snape said coldly. "I believe the time has come to reckon up all accounts."
"I agree," Voldemort said, equally cold. "We shall soon see where your true loyalties lie."
As if in response, Snape pushed Pettigrew forward. "Here is your final Horcrux, Potter."
There was several seconds of breathless silence. Finally Ron said, incredulously, "Him? Wormtail? You're JOKING!"
But Harry saw it immediately. "Brilliant," he breathed. "I would never have suspected Peter Pettigrew of being a Horcrux."
"Of course you wouldn't," Snape said, sneering. "Pettigrew has always been underestimated. Sirius Black considered him almost beneath notice, as did you father, Potter, and Remus Lupin. None of them recognized that Wormtail's talent lay in his ability to attach himself to wizards he could be of use to, wizards who would protect him in return for his obedience and loyalty.
"First, in school, with the motley crew that called themselves the Marauders; then, with your father and mother, on whom he had a rather myopic crush; then on to the Dark Lord, when he saw how the winds of change were blowing.
"After the Dark Lord's fall, when he went into hiding, Wormtail followed suit, attaching himself to the ragtag Weasley brood until his return, fourteen years later."
Wormtail was looking at Snape with something like anger, as if these secrets were not to be revealed; or at least, at his discretion and not Snape's. But Snape, ignoring Wormtail's affronted glare, pressed inexorably on with a malicious lilt in his voice.
"The Dark Lord, seeing an advantage in making such a wretched, self-effacing creature his final Horcrux, murdered Bertha Jorkins and placed the seventh part of his soul into him, shortly before he rose again.
"Quite a clever gambit, wouldn't you say, Potter?" Snape finished mockingly. "To destroy the final Horcrux, you will also have to commit murder, at the very least – tearing your own soul apart and making yourself even more like the Dark Lord."
"No," Harry said in disbelief, shaking his head.
"No!" Wormtail echoed piteously. "Have mercy!"
"You need have no fear of Potter, Wormtail," Snape said, contempt in every syllable he spat at Pettigrew. "He will not kill you – but I will, if need be!" Pettigrew shrank away from him, cowering.
"Severus," Voldemort said, and again Harry heard the taint of fear in his voice. "Reconsider. We can do great things together. With Hogwarts under our control, we can teach those who will do our bidding and control those who will not. With that power we can rule Britain. Once the Sorcerer's Stone is remade you and I will have all the time we need to make the world ours."
"And why," Snape said coldly, "should I wish to share the world with you, my Lord? Apart from your skill at Leglimency and your drive to acquire as much magic and immortality as possible, you are hardly worthy of such an ambition.
"You have consistently underestimated both Dumbledore and this boy." Snape waved a disdainful hand in Harry's direction. "Your goals have changed, time and again, with your situation at any given moment. They could just as easily change once more, to place me out of your favor. Me, the one person who has done more for you than anyone – Wormtail included!"
Voldemort scowled. "So, your intentions are revealed at last," he said, his high, clear voice barely above a whisper. "You have thrown your lot in with weaklings and Mudbloods, and betrayed your own kind."
There was a glint in Snape's black eyes. "Hardly," he said, and raised his wand.
Harry felt himself go rigid and immobile, a sensation he'd felt all too often in the past – the Body-Bind Curse! Snape had cast it on the Hogwarts students and, apparently, Voldemort: even though he was out of Harry's eyesight Harry had not heard him move away.
Harry raged at himself as he watched, helplessly, as Snape walked almost casually toward him and Voldemort, collecting wands from Ginny, Luna, Ron and Hermione as he did so. Dropping the confiscated wands into a robe pocket, Snape stood between Harry and Jon, addressing Voldemort's frozen figure.
"Your death," Snape said, his tone casual but still carrying considerable threat, "will bring the acclaim that has for so long eluded me, standing in the shadow of those less worthy – men like Black, Potter and Dumbledore, not to mention those cretins at the Ministry of Magic, who believe they run the Wizarding World here in Britain.
"These students," and Harry saw Snape's arm pointing back to the students behind him, "will attest to the events as they remember them – Longbottom's death, at your hands, as well as your attempt to kill them; my timely arrival to rescue them from your Death Eaters, as well as Wormtail, held under an Imperius Curse for all these years, forced to fake his own death and live as a rat in the Weasley household until your return three years ago."
Snape turned toward Harry, and he felt hot breath on his neck as Snape hissed into his ear. "Yes, Potter. I want you to know, however temporarily, my real intentions." His voice became less harsh, but sounding no more sincere to Harry's ears, as he added, "You should know, as well, that I never wished for Professor Dumbledore's death, however necessary he may have felt it was."
"Now, let it be done," Snape whispered, then commanded, "Accio!"
The Sword of Gryffindor was wrenched from Harry's grasp; it flew upward, over his head, where Snape caught it in his left hand, pressed it against Voldemort's neck, and slashed sideways. Harry felt warm blood spatter against his exposed flesh. There was a horrible gurgling sound as Voldemort's breath and blood bubbled out of the wound. A normal man might have been decapitated by the razor-sharp edge of Gryffindor's blade, but Voldemort's snake-like skin had given him a measure of protection.
A hand pushed hard against Harry and a shock like electricity ran through him. He hit the ground and rolled, surprised to find that he could roll. Opposite Snape, the same thing had happened to Jon. They both looked at each other a moment, then simultaneously rolled off the edge of the landing, on opposite sides.
Still spraying blood, Voldemort slammed both of his fists into Snape's chest, sending him sprawling backwards, falling down the stone staircase. Snape's head hit the edge of a step as he fell, and he landed in a heap at the bottom of the staircase, the Sword of Gryffindor clattering uselessly beside him as a pool of blood began to form under his head.
"WORMTAIL!! WAND!!" Voldemort screamed at Pettigrew, who bolted toward the grass where he'd been knocked unconscious earlier; apparently no one had thought to get his wand.
Harry, who'd rolled off the landing near where Wormtail had landed, picked himself painfully off the ground and sprinted forward, trying to grab Wormtail's wand before he did. Wormtail immediately changed tactics, grappling with Harry. Though smaller and over twice his age, the silver hand Voldemort had replaced the one Wormtail had sacrificed to bring Voldemort back was much more powerful than his real one. Pettigrew flung Harry away from him, snatched up his wand, and threw it toward the Dark Lord as he shouted, "HERE, MASTER!"
The wand spun through the air and landed unerringly in Voldemort's outstretched left hand. He immediately drew it across his own neck, staunching the flow of blood. In continuous motion, his left arm extended toward Harry, who'd rolled to his feet, but who was now wandless and too far from any cover.
"Now, Potter, now is the moment of your death!" Voldemort shouted. He pointed the wand precisely at Harry's heart. "Avada Ke—"
The Sword of Gryffindor slammed into Voldemort's chest, flinging him back against the entrance as it continued through his body, embedding itself in the thick wooden doors. Wormtail's wand flew from his hand, falling onto the landing next to where he'd stood. Harry looked to the bottom of the stairs, from where Jon had just thrown the sword after picking it up from beside Snape's unconscious form.
Voldemort shrieked in agony and gripped the handle with both hands, attempting to pull it free from the door, but it was embedded too deeply. After several seconds he stopped trying and cried out, "Wormtail! Help me!"
Wormtail, however, turned and bolted for the gates of Hogwarts, but Jon had recovered his wand from Snape's pocket and immobilized him with a Body-Bind Curse; Wormtail fell and skidded several yards before coming to a halt.
Harry walked to the base of the steps and looked down at the unconscious figure of Snape. Jon handed Harry his wand. Wordlessly, Harry walked over to where Wormtail had fallen and removed the Body-Bind Curse. "Stand up," he told Wormtail, not bothering to conceal his anger.
"H-Harry," Wormtail pleaded as he stood, cringing and cowering before him, "p-please d-don't kill me!"
"I'm not going to kill you," Harry snapped angrily. "But it's not like you don't deserve it!"
"I h-had no choice, Harry!" Wormtail protested. "I h-had to do as Voldemort ordered me to!"
"Don't give me that!" Harry exploded. "All of this comes down to the choice YOU made sixteen years ago to tell Voldemort where my parents were! If anyone DESERVES to die, it's YOU!!
"But now I can't kill either of you," Harry said bitterly. "Even if Voldemort doesn't die from his wound. It would be murder." He pointed back toward the stairs, where Jon was slowly ascending to examine Voldemort. Glancing back at him fearfully in spite of Harry's words, they approached the Dark Lord, now transfixed to the doors of Hogwarts Castle with the Sword of Gryffindor.
There was now an angry red wound across Voldemort's neck, looking half-healed, as well as the sword that had passed through his chest. A normal man would be dead, with major arteries severed, but the magical enchantments Voldemort had laid upon this body were keeping him unnaturally alive, even with a mortal wound.
Wormtail, shaking almost uncontrollably by the time he reached the top of the stairs, avoided Voldemort's gaze. The Dark Lord's breathing was shallow and rapid. "What – what will happen to m-me?" Wormtail asked fearfully.
"Azkaban, I suppose," Harry said, looking at Voldemort. In spite of the expression of pain on his pale, lipless face, Voldemort gave the impression that the idea of putting him in prison was amusing.
Pettigrew shook his head violently. "No! I can't go in Azkaban, Harry!" he said, clutching at Harry's robe. "The other Death Eaters will kill me! It will be murder if you put me in there!"
Jon, bemused, said, "So, it's murder if we kill you, and murder if we put you in prison. That doesn't leave many options, does it?"
"What are you suggesting, then?" Harry asked sardonically. "That we let you go?"
Wormtail nodded eagerly. "Yes, yes!" As Harry and Jon both scowled he added quickly, "At least that way, I have a chance of living! I will have no one to help me now, you've seen to that!"
Harry had no sympathy for Wormtail – the man had caused his parents' death, after all! – but neither did he want his death, either through his hand or another's. However, before he could think of something to say to the cowering Wormtail, Jon spoke up. "Harry, I think I have a way to solve this dilemma, and without anyone else having to die."
"How?" Harry asked. Wormtail looked at Jon skeptically.
"First things first," Jon said, taking out his wand. Wormtail backed away upon seeing it, but Jon gestured in the direction of the others behind them. Everyone – Bellatrix, Narcissa, Crabbe and Goyle, and Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Luna, and Deirdre – promptly fell over.
Startled, Harry instinctively pointed his wand at Jon. "What happened to them?" he demanded.
"Don't worry," Jon said mildly, ignoring Harry's wand. "They're just asleep. This is for your eyes only… and yours as well," he said, turning to Voldemort. "Let's get you fixed up."
He reached out with his left hand and effortlessly pulled the sword free from the door and Voldemort's body. Voldemort hissed in pain as the sword slid free, staggered and nearly fell; but with a wave of his wand Jon kept him upright, pressing him back against the doors.
As Harry watched in wonderment, with another wave of Jon's wand, Voldemort's neck wound vanished completely. A third wave and the open, bloody wound in Voldemort's chest sealed itself.
It wasn't the healing itself that so surprised Harry – he'd seen worse wounds healed by Madam Pomfrey – but the ease with which Jon had accomplished it: nonverbally and in mere seconds, especially for a mortal wound. "How could you do that?" he asked.
Jon spared him only a glance and a quick smile. "You saw me put Hermione's soul back into her body, Harry – mortal wounds should be a snap, compared to that."
"Speaking of Hermione –"
"We can talk about it later," Jon cut over him. "We should finish things with Voldemort first."
With a scream of rage, Voldemort suddenly lashed out. His right hand grabbed Harry's, the one holding his wand, and his thin but surprisingly strong fingers began to crush his hand. Harry cried out and tried to jerk free, but Voldemort's grip was too strong. At the same time his scar burned agonizingly, nearly forcing him to drop his wand from the pain alone. Voldemort's other hand grabbed Jon's face, tearing at it as Jon clutched at the Dark Lord's wrist with his own wand hand.
The bones were snapping in Harry's hand. He was trying to use his other hand to prise off Voldemort's fingers, but they were too strong. Voldemort's eyes flashed red as he squeezed even harder, trying to make Harry relinquish the grip on his wand.
Jon's free hand came up to Voldemort's chest. There was a loud BANG and Voldemort was thrown back against the front doors of the school, releasing Harry and Jon. Voldemort's hands flew over his head; metal cords snaked out from the iron bindings of the oaken doors and fastened around his wrists.
"Nice try," Jon snapped, with cold fury, at Voldemort, who made no reply. Jon's face was torn by several gashes, and one eye was bloody and closed; it looked like Voldemort had gouged it out. Harry was holding his hand gingerly: it was bloody and several fingers looked like their bones were crushed to powder. "I'm sorry, Harry," Jon said apologetically. "I didn't think Voldemort had anything left to fight with." His finger touched Harry's hand; a sudden warmth flooded into it and the fingers straightened of their own accord. Harry wiggled his fingers: the pain was completely gone.
Jon covered his ravaged face with his own hands, drawing them down from forehead to chin. As they passed over his features the gashes disappeared. He blinked and both eyes looked back at Harry again. Harry had never seen Healing techniques like these before. Or, in fact, like anything Jon had done in the past few minutes. He stared at Jon, nonplussed, as the latter reached into his robe, fished out a dragonskin glove and handed it to Harry, indicating he should put it on. "Hold out that hand," Jon said, and when Harry did he pointed his wand into the palm.
As Harry watched, a small, clear sphere appeared in the center of the dragonskin glove's palm. "This," Jon said. "is something like a Horcrux, but rather than holding a fragment of a person's soul it can contain their entire essence, body and soul, together." Harry's other hand came up automatically, but Jon said quickly, "Don't touch it, Harry! If this touches anyone's bare skin, it will draw them inside it forever."
"What is inside there?" Harry wanted to know.
"Paradise," Jon replied. "Whatever a person placed inside this sphere wants, it will happen for them."
Harry looked at the sphere. "So… if they wanted to rule the world, kill anyone they wanted, even bring people back from the dead…"
"It will make that a reality for them," Jon nodded. "Absolutely anything they want. All you need to do," he said, pointing at Voldemort, "is touch it anywhere against his flesh."
Harry looked at Voldemort, and there again was fear, even terror, on his face. "No, Potter!" he shouted, trying to shrink away, pushing himself against the oaken doors of Hogwarts in a vain attempt to avoid the sphere. "Kill me if you dare, but do NOT try to deceive me about it!"
"It's not a deception," Jon said. "It's real enough –"
"LIAR!" Voldemort screamed. "DO NOT –"
Harry pressed the sphere against Voldemort's neck, and in a flash of light and a soft crack, the Dark Lord disappeared.
Harry slumped back, feeling drained. Voldemort was gone.
He was startled, a moment later, when Wormtail spoke. "He d-didn't want to go there, did he?"
"No, Harry said, looking at the sphere. "He didn't." Harry hadn't quite worked out why, just yet. Did he think Jon lied about the sphere?
"Can I go to a place like that?" Wormtail asked, hopefully.
"You would want to go that place, even though Voldemort didn't?" Jon asked, curious.
"To be given everything I want, whenever I wanted it?" Wormtail asked unbelievingly, as if the answer were obvious. "Of course I would! Who wouldn't?"
"Voldemort, obviously," Jon said with a shrug. But you can use this one as well, if you want – there's more than enough room in that universe for the both of you."
"We can never come back?" Wormtail asked, to be certain. "Neither of us, never?"
"Right," Jon said. "Neither of you, never."
"I'll go, then," Wormtail said. "It sounds like – I'll be taken care of, there." He looked into Harry's eyes, and Harry could see the profound regret written there. "I'm – I'm sorry, H-Harry, for what I done to James, and Lily. I n-never wanted her… to be hurt." Peter looked away from Harry, pulling down on his collar to bare some of his skin. Harry touched his bare flesh and Peter Pettigrew disappeared in a flash of white light.
Harry sighed and looked at the sphere. The afternoon sun was glinting off its crystal surface, and Harry thought he perceived random movements coming from inside the sphere. "Are they really in there?" he asked.
"Yes," Jon said. He pointed his wand at the sphere and a gold sheathing appeared around it, and a small ring with a gold chain. "And now, it is sealed forever. Here," he said, handing it to Harry. "Put it around your neck." Harry took it, looking wary, but slipped the chain around his neck and under his shirt.
"And now," he said, unable to contain himself, "how in the hell are you able to do these things?"
Jon opened his mouth as if to speak; but he stopped and glanced around at the students and Death Eaters who lay sleeping on the front lawn of Hogwarts. "It may be a bit long in the telling, Harry. Before I tell you, we should get our friends awakened and hand the Death Eaters over to the Ministry of Magic."
Harry looked round as well. "Alright," he said finally. "Later, then. But it had better be a good story."
"Oh, it is," Jon said. "It is. You can trust me on that one."
***
It was quite some time later before they were able to return to the subject of Jon's magical abilities, however. After awakening Ron and Hermione (and forestalling their questions as well) they had to decide what to do about the Death Eaters lying about on the front lawn of the school as well as any other students who might be working with them inside.
There were other questions as well: What to do with Professor Snape – was he a Death Eater or a hero? ("I say Death Eater," Ron decided with a shrug. "We can chuck him in with them and let the Ministry sort him out later.") What had become of the students and teachers who'd remained behind – had Dobby put everyone to sleep, friend and foe alike? By the time they had awakened Ginny, Luna, and Deirdre, secured Snape and the other Death Eaters, and had gone looking in the castle, the only person left awake was Professor McGonagall, who'd managed to convince him that, as Dumbledore's successor as Head of Hogwarts, she was his employer and neither a student nor a teacher, but an administrator.
"The next time, Potter," McGonagall said, giving him an alarmingly stern stare, "you set a house-elf loose to run amok through the school please tell him that teachers are off-limits, won't you?" But the corner of her mouth had a slight turn in it.
"Yes ma'am," Harry said, quite humbly.
There were some sad moments as well. Neville Longbottom and Horace Slughorn were both mourned as fallen heroes who died opposing Voldemort, as had many others in the past three years. Most of the Hogwarts students elected to return to the school for a memorial service, held the following Monday in the Great Hall. Luna Lovegood gave Neville's eulogy, and she spoke with tearful and heartfelt compassion of the gentle young man who loved her, loved all his friends at Hogwarts, but most of all loved the life he'd been given, in spite of all its twists and turns, setbacks and failures. "For how else can we learn," she asked them all, in closing, "if we do not try?"
Professor McGonagall spoke on behalf of Professor Slughorn, describing his deep joy of teaching and life, his comforts of rich food and fine wine and spirits, and the many friendships he'd cultivated over his many years of teaching at Hogwarts, including the last two years he spent there. "He will be missed," she told those gathered in the Hall. "But more importantly, he will be remembered."
After the service, Harry, Ron and Hermione were talking quietly about Neville when Luna approached them on the arm of a slightly cross-eyed, white-haired gentlemen she presented as her father, Xenophilius Lovegood, editor of The Quibbler.
"Quite pleased to meet you at last," Mr. Lovegood murmured, shaking each of their hands in turn. Luna's told me so much about each of you. Ah, poor Neville! And I was so looking forward to having him in the family. He could identify a plant faster than anyone I've ever met."
"Daddy," Luna leaned toward her father's ear. "I want to have a word with Harry and then we can leave, will that be alright?"
"Of course, love, of course," Mr. Lovegood said, and Luna put her arm in Harry's and walked off a ways where they could talk privately.
"I'm going back home with Daddy," she said. "He's quite torn up about Neville, actually; I thought it would be best not to leave him alone."
"And how are you – er – getting on with things?" Harry asked, concerned.
"Oh, I'm fine," she said. "I've only cried myself to sleep the last two nights, actually."
"Right, but… he's only been dead three days, Luna."
"Hmm, I'll probably need some more time, then," she said thoughtfully. "Harry, there is something I wanted to ask you," she added seriously.
"What's that?"
"Your friend, the boy from America – will you ask him a question for me, the next time you see him?"
"Yes, of course," Harry said. "What is it?"
"Will you ask him if he's ever seen any Grey-Tufted Horsplorts where he comes from."
"Any – what did you say?"
"Grey-Tufted Horsplorts," Luna repeated. "They look rather like great gray owls except they have large ear tufts and can breathe fire. There are supposed to be a lot of them over in America. Daddy's looking for some tail feathers and I'd like to surprise him. I thought perhaps if Jon could find some over there I could have him send me some."
"I'll remember to ask him," Harry nodded, keeping his face straight.
"Thank you!" She gave him a quick hug and they walked back to where Ron and Hermione were listening to Mr. Lovegood expound on his quest to locate a Crumple-Horned Snorkack. Both of them appeared profoundly glad to see Harry and Luna again.
"Daddy, " Luna said, putting her arm in his as she started toward the exit. "What do you think about stopping in East Riding on the way home and picking up some Freshwater Plimpys?"
"My dear!" Mr. Lovegood looked at her reproachfully. "What of our own pond Plimpies?"
"Oh, they're fine, too," Luna replied. "I just thought you might enjoy some East Riding Plimpies for a bit of change…" Father and daughter disappeared through the doors of the Great Hall.
"Blimey," Ron said, looking after her. "I'm going to miss hearing some of the things she gets on about."
Things had stayed so busy around Hogwarts that none of them had even considered what had occurred after they'd left Diagon Alley Saturday afternoon until Monday evening, when Ron received a note to report to McGonagall's office.
"Huh," Ron snorted after finishing the note. "Took their ruddy time about it, didn't they?"
"Is that all it said, then?" Hermione took the note and scanned it again quickly.
Dear Mr. Weasley,
Please report to my office promptly at 6 p.m. Monday evening. This concerns your participation in the Vault Tournament this Saturday last. It may be advisable to bring Mr. Potter and Miss Granger along as well.
Sincerely,
Professor Minerva McGonagall
P.S. The password is "honeyed mead."
"Why would she want us along?" Harry wondered, reading the note after Hermione had finished.
"I dunno – as witnesses, maybe?" Ron speculated.
"There were more than enough witnesses," Hermione said absently, "without needing to have your two best friends do that, Ron."
At the appointed time, they presented themselves to the stone gargoyle and Ron spoke the password. Immediately the gargoyle leapt aside and they proceeded up the spiral staircase to the top, where Ron, after getting a reassuring nod from Harry and Hermione, knocked on the door to the Head's office.
"Come in," Professor McGonagall's voice answered, and the three of them entered. The headmistress was behind her desk, a cup of hot tea by her right elbow. In front of her were six chairs, positioned in a half-circle; in three of them sat a wizard and two goblins. The wizard was Bill Weasley; he looked solemnly at Ron and did not smile.
The two goblins Harry had never seen before, as far as he knew, but they both looked rather impressive. The goblin sitting next to McGonagall's desk stared at them with beady, narrowed eyes as he fingered an elaborately curled mustache. Between him and Bill was probably the oldest goblin Harry had ever seen; he was bald except for a fringe of white hair around each ear and a while, double-pointed beard. His long, gnarled fingers wrapped around a silver cane with a grip that looked like a muzzle of a dragon; Harry would have guessed, if pressed, that it was of a Swedish Short-Snout.
"Please be seated, all of you," McGonagall indicated the three empty chairs opposite Bill and the two goblins. Harry took the seat nearest McGonagall's desk, letting Ron have the middle empty chair; this was primarily his affair, so he should have the center. "These three gentlemen," McGonagall said to Ron, indicating Bill and the goblins. "Have traveled from Gringotts Wizarding Bank to deliver their ruling on your opening of the Vault in the Gringotts Vault Tournament." Harry looked for any indication in her face what the ruling would be, but McGonagall's face was etched in stone. "Gentlemen," she said, turning to them. "The floor is yours."
The ancient-looking goblin in the middle spoke immediately. "I'll get right to the point," he said, his voice sounding like gravel being shaken in a box. "You did not open the Vault within the specified time limit of 15 minutes, and therefore your attempt was ruled Unopened."
"WHAT?!" Ron shouted, jumping to his feet. Both goblins jumped as well, and Bill put up both hands, motioning Ron to sit back down. Ron did, but leaned forward and hissed, "I know damned well I opened it, Bill! I pulled down on the lever and the door made a loud noise and I heard air rushing through it!"
"I heard it, too," Bill said. "I remember thinking, It's open! when I heard that. However –" he glanced at the two goblins next to him, looking unhappy. "There's a difference of opinion on the ruling."
"How do you mean?" Hermione was looking at all three Gringotts men with an appraising air. "Whose opinion do you mean?"
Bill glanced toward the two goblins. "Let me make introductions. The first gentleman –" he indicated the goblin furthest from him "— is Gornuk, the Bank's Truth-Speaker – we would call him a solicitor. Or rather, that would be his equivalent title in a Muggle bank."
Bowing slightly in his chair, Bill introduced the elderly goblin sitting next to him. "This is Artag, Chief Goblin and President of Gringotts Wizarding Bank. It is their ruling –"
"— it is the ruling of the Vault Tournament Judges Committee," Artag corrected testily, thumping his cane on the floor, "that the referee must rule that the door of the Vault was unlocked and that any and all beings had clear and unrestricted access to its contents, as stated in Rule 4 of the Tournament rules. Thinking the door is open is not ruling that it is open."
"I did not call any other competitors to the podium that day," Bill pointed out, "after the last contestant left the stage."
"There were no other competitors that day to attempt to open the Vault!" Gornuk snorted.
"There was," Bill corrected the goblin. "But he waived his turn by Disapparating after he saw Ron pull the lever down and heard the clank of the locking pins.
"That is a conjecture as to the intentions of another," Gornuk sneered. "Inadmissible."
"It is just as much your conjecture to say that I did not rule the Vault was Opened," Bill said. His voice had remained calm but there was an edge to it that Harry had rarely heard before.
"Wait a minute," Ron said, holding up his hands. "Before we go any further, just what is in the Vault?"
"We don't know," Bill said at once. "After you and the others disappeared, just before your 15 minutes were up, I declared that the Tournament was over. I was about to add –" Bill looked significantly at the two goblins, both of whom stared stonily back at him "– that you had opened the Vault when Gornuk appeared and overrode me, declaring all further rulings to be a matter of the Vault Tournament Judges Committee."
"Which it has been," Gornuk snapped.
"It is also," Artag said with a tone of finality, "the majority ruling of this Judges Committee, and you will respect that ruling."
"In that I have no choice," Bill said stonily. "But I will not remain a part of an institution that chooses to disregard its own precepts."
Artag looked affronted. "Do not take that tone with me, wizard."
Bill turned to the elderly goblin. "'That tone?' Do you not recall the words engraved on the front doors of your own building?" And he recited,
"So if you seek beneath our floors
A treasure that was never yours,
Thief, you have been warned, beware
Of finding more than treasure there."
Gornuk slammed his gnarled fist down upon the chair he sat in. "You dare accuse us of thievery, with our own words?!"
"They seem especially appropriate," Bill said curtly. "You admit the Vault is not goblin-made."
"The Vault is not," Artag replied immediately. "We do not say yet whether the contents are, or are not, the property of goblins."
"Will you try to determine whether everything within the Vault is goblin-made?" Bill asked sardonically.
"Enough!" Artag stood unsteadily in the chair; Gornuk took his arm to steady him. "We return to Gringotts on the nonce. Weasley, you will report there by 9 a.m. tomorrow morning to submit your opinion to the committee or face disciplinary action for insubordination."
Bill stood as well. "I'm afraid," he said quietly, taking an envelope from an inside pocket of his robe, "it's gone well beyond the point of submitting to your authority. I hereby tender my resignation." He handed the envelope to Artag, who looked surprised, but barely glanced at the envelope before shoving it roughly into Gornuk's hands.
"Very well," Artag growled; even with his dark skin it was clear he was flushed with anger. "Report to Personnel for your personal effects at your earliest convenience." He turned to Gornuk. "Let's go."
Gornuk nodded and took the elder goblin's arm. Both of them disappeared with a loud crack.
"Well, that's that," Bill said with a bitter smile, looking at McGonagall.
"Are you sure you wanted to do that, Bill?" McGonagall said. It was strange, Harry thought, hearing her refer to him by his first name.
"Nothing ventured, nothing gained, Professor," Bill said, with a shrug. He turned to Ron, who was looking at him in amazement. "Don't look so surprised, little brother."
"But you've been working at Gringotts for ten years or more!" Ron protested. "I didn't think you'd just chuck it all like that!"
"It's a bit calculating on my part," Bill admitted. "Goblins take their jobs very seriously. I know – as you say, I've been working with them for a decade now, so I've had plenty of time to learn their motivations.
"That's why Artag was so disgruntled by my resignation – from his perspective, I would only do that if I was quite sure that what I believed, was true."
"Well, you do believe it, don't you?" Ron asked, wondering.
"Of course I do, little brother," Bill smiled. "You did a great job of researching the origin of the Vault." He patted Ron reassuringly on the shoulder. "In fact, I'd like to have a look through Uncle Archie's journal, if you have it – I'd like to see if I can duplicate your reasoning."
"Sure," Ron said, turning red. "It's in my trunk." He glanced at Hermione, who beamed at him.
"I'll pick it up tomorrow," Bill said. "I'll get a room at the Hog's Head tonight and come back to use the Hogwarts library." Bill turned to McGonagall. "If that's alright with you, Professor."
"Don't be silly," McGonagall said "I can arrange for a room for you in the staff quarters."
"That would be very nice, thank you," Bill inclined his head in gratitude. He turned toward the door, and Harry and Ron turned with him –
But Hermione stood still, looking unhappy. "I don't want to seem ungrateful," she said timidly. "But – we've lost, haven't we? I mean Ron has. The Vault is opened but Ron's not getting anything because the goblins have overruled your decision. That's not right!"
"A very wise man once said, 'It's not over 'til it's over,'" Bill said with a shrug. "I'm going to file an appeal tomorrow with the governors of Gringotts for a hearing on the matter.
"It may all come to naught – the governors are not likely to side against Artag without very good reason. With any luck, I can come up with something in the next day or so using precedents from wizard and goblin dealings in the past century or so."
"I'd like to help, if I can," Hermione volunteered at once. "I've been through a lot of that history while I was studying wizard relations with other races."
"I welcome your help, Hermione," Bill said, smiling. Nodding to McGonagall, the four of them left her office to find Bill's room. Later, in the Gryffindor common room, they discussed their meeting with the Gringotts goblins. The tower was nearly empty; most of the students had taken the Hogwarts Express back to London on its special run Monday after the memorial service for Neville and Professor Slughorn.
"So what do you think?" Ron finally asked Harry, who knew he meant, what were his chances of getting the contents of the Vault of Mystery.
"I don't think there's much chance the goblins'll give up what's in that Vault," Harry said, shaking his head. It galled him to have to say it; Ron had poured so much of himself into figuring out the secret of getting in the Vault.
Ron shrugged unconvincingly. "Yeah…well… I guess I should've known better than get my hopes up," he said. Hermione's hand was on his, squeezing it reassuringly. "We'll probably never even find out what's inside that thing."