Chapter 37
INHERITANCE
The next morning Harry and Ron didn't arrive in the Great Hall for breakfast until it was nearly over. Hermione and Ginny were both already there, talking with Bill. The Great Hall was nearly empty; classes were over for the year, and most of the student had already gone home.
Something, however, had kept Harry here, a feeling he couldn't quite identify. It could be simple sentimentality – Hogwarts had felt more like his home than anywhere he'd ever been, except the Burrow. For the past seven years Harry had spent nearly nine months of each year here, living and eating and learning about wizardry from some of the most diverse and interesting people he'd ever met. In a few days, he would leave that behind, forever.
"Hi, Harry, Ron," Bill said as they approached. They greeted him back, but both Ron and Harry's attention were elsewhere – Ron's on Hermione, whom he sat next to and put an arm around, squeezing her gently, while Harry had his eyes on Ginny as he sat down across from her.
"Hi," she said, beaming back at him. "Bill's been telling me about what happened yesterday."
"Mum's upset," Bill said matter-of-factly. "She's already making noises like Fleur and I should move back to the Burrow."
Ron leaned forward to stare at him, slightly alarmed. "You're not going to do that, are you?"
Bill laughed softly. "No. They get along much better if there's a bit of distance between them, I've found."
Harry saw Ginny's eyes flick toward Ron and a glance pass between them. Apparently more than just Bill had figured that out already, he realized.
"By the way," Bill said to Ron. "When you get a chance, I'd like to collect great-Uncle Archie's journal from you, to have a look at."
"I brought it down with me," Ron said, producing the journal and passing it to his older brother, who began flipping through it while scanning the pages.
The envelope Ron had found in the book slipped out, and Bill picked it up, looking at it curiously.
"Was this with the journal when you found it?" Bill asked, holding the envelope up for Ron to see.
"Yeah. Couldn't make any sense of it, though."
"No wonder," Bill said, examining the sheet of parchment inside. "This is Gobbledegook."
"Goblin writing?" Ron said, looking over at Hermione, who had looked over, interested, at the mention of the goblin language. "What would Uncle Archie be doing with a letter written in that?"
"I wonder the same thing," Bill said distractedly. He was studying the writing.
"Can you read it?" Hermione asked.
"Not really," Bill said. "I was just trying to see if anything looked familiar about it."
"Why would anything look familiar?" Ginny asked. "You just said you couldn't read it."
"I see goblin documents at work all the time," Bill explained. He laughed. "Well, I used to, anyway. I thought I might recognize what kind of form this was. But no joy."
He put the letter back in its envelope. "Fortunately, I know someone who will translate this for me. That means I've got to run." He stood up to leave. Ginny stood up as well, and gave him a hug. He turned to Hermione.
"Check out those books we talked about," he told her. "Goblins are sticklers for rules, but most of the problems we've had with them are because wizards misunderstand how goblins think about the things they make, including agreements with wizards."
He reached across the table and shook Ron and Harry's hands. "Take care, I'll see you all Thursday afternoon at the hearing, if not before." And he walked out of the Great Hall.
"So," Ginny said to Harry as she sat back down at the Gryffindor table. "What do you think?"
"About what?" Harry asked.
Ginny smiled. "About everything. Voldemort's dead. You've finished school. Ron's opened the Vault of Mystery. I guess we haven't talked in a bit, have we?"
"I guess not," Harry said, smiling back at her. It was true; he'd barely had time to say "hi" to Ginny since Saturday. "We have some catching up to do, don't we?"
"Hello." Deirdre had come up to their table and was standing behind Ron and Harry.
"Hi, Deirdre," Ginny said, smiling at her. "How are you doing?"
"I'm fine," she said. "It's been a very busy couple of days for all of you, hasn't it?"
"Yes," Harry said, looking around at her. "We haven't had a chance to ask how you and Jon are doing."
"I was going to ask you about Jon," Deirdre said. She looked down at the floor, one of her feet was tapping the floor unconsciously. "If you had seen him lately."
"Not since we got back to Hogwarts late Saturday night," Harry said. "I thought he and you would be…" he trailed off as she shook her head slowly.
"I haven't seen him, either," Deirdre said. "I'm about to leave the school and go back to my – my herd, permanently."
"What about Firenze?" Ron asked. "Will he be going back as well?"
"We don't know yet," Deirdre said. "Father and Magorian are talking, at least. I do not know what, if any, kind of agreement they will reach."
"When Firenze took the Divination position Professor Dumbledore offered him," Harry said, remembering. "The other centaurs were very upset; I remember seeing hoof marks on Firenze's chest." Deirdre nodded soberly. "I hope they can come to an understanding: Firenze must want to return home very much by now."
"Many of us would like him to return as well," Deirdre agreed.
There were several moments of silence.
"I am glad to have met you all," Deirdre finally said, looking at each of them. "Especially you, Ginny," she said with a smile. "And Luna. You were both very good friends to me." She and Ginny both walked into each others arms and hugged. She shook Ron and Hermione's hands as well.
"And I'm glad to have met you, Harry Potter," she said, turning to him with her hand held out. After a second of hesitation Harry took it and shook; Deirdre suddenly pulled him into a hug as well. "Good fortune," she said as she released him. "I hope if you're ever back at Hogwarts you can take a few minutes to visit us in the forest."
"I'll remember," Harry smiled. Deirdre waved and walked out of the Great Hall.
"Oh, damn," Ron said a moment later. "I just remembered what I was going to ask her! When we saw her on the Marauder's Map she only had the name 'Deirdre.' "
"So?" Ginny said.
"Well, where did the name 'Recaunt' come from?"
"Ron!" Hermione looked him incredulously. "How can you have figured out the puzzle on the Mystery Vault and not seen that 'Recaunt' is an anagram of 'Centaur!' "
"Oh, yeah."
After breakfast, Hermione went to the Library to look at the books Bill had pointed her towards; she cajoled Ron into joining her for some company, leaving Harry and Ginny the opportunity to catch up with each other. The morning was a bright, cloudless day, perfect for a walk, and they ambled aimlessly across the grounds, eventually finding themselves overlooking the lake near Dumbledore's white tomb.
It occurred to Harry that he had never come to this spot since he attended Dumbledore's funeral, almost exactly a year ago now. Whether it was because of Dumbledore, or because he had broken up with Ginny near this spot on that day, he couldn't say. Ginny, perhaps guessing his thoughts, said quietly, "Seems like a lifetime ago the last time we were here, doesn't it?"
"It does," Harry agreed. "If I had it to do over again…"
"Well I'm glad you don't," Ginny cut over him. "I wouldn't want to go through that again!" They both chuckled.
"Seriously," he said a moment later, turning to her. "I was wrong to ditch you like that."
"No you weren't," she retorted, surprising him. "You had something you needed to do and you did what you had to."
"I feel awful about it –" Harry started to say, but she cut over him.
"Harry, you don't need to beat yourself up for me," she pointed out. "Besides, I've beat you up enough about it – behind your back."
"Oh, well, that's good to know," Harry said, sounding both rueful and sardonic.
"I'm not proud of it either," Ginny admitted. "But what's done is done. The question is – what are we going to do about it now?"
"Well," Harry said, moving slowly closer to her. "We should try to think of something beneficial for both of us."
"I agree," Ginny said, moving closer as well.
"I just hope," Harry said, putting his hands gently on her shoulders. "That no one will give us any grief about being together again."
"If Ron says anything I'll break his thumbs, the filthy hypocrite."
Harry smiled and his lips found hers, and they embraced, a cool morning breeze from the lake gently stirring Ginny's hair, reminding Harry of flowers. It was a perfect moment, one they both wished could last forever.
Later that day a note came from Hagrid, asking Harry, Ron and Hermione to join him for tea that afternoon. Harry was happy for the opportunity to see Hagrid again before he left Hogwarts – they hadn't had much time together this year. Just before tea time they arrived at Hagrid's hut and knocked on the door. Moments later the Hogwarts groundkeeper welcomed them inside.
"Good to see yeh! Bin awhile, hadn't it?" Hagrid said, getting them seated and bustling around, getting tea ready while Fang, his enormous black boarhound, leapt up on them, slobbering excitedly.
"We have been rather busy this year," Hermione said, a little guiltily.
"I'll say!" Hagrid agreed genially. "Harry! Quite an achievement, lad, what you did with You-Know-Who last week! I wish I'd bin there, to see that!" He handed each of them a huge steaming mug of tea.
"Thanks, Hagrid," Harry said. He blew on his tea to cool it a bit. "How did you hear about it? None of us talked about what happened." At least, none of us I know of, he added to himself. "But the Daily Prophet seemed to know all the details."
"Well, yeh know how that goes, Harry," Hagrid sniffed. He passed around a plate of his usual rock cakes, and each of them politely took one. "If somethin's a big secret round here, everyone'll know about it, somehow."
"How'd you find out, then?" Ron asked. Hermione gave him an exasperated look but Hagrid didn't seem the least bit abashed.
"Madam Rosemerta down at Three Broomsticks gave me most o' the details," he said, settling down himself into a chair with a bucket-sized mug of tea and a couple of rock cakes on a smaller plate in his lap. "An' Professor Sprout filled in the rest.
"But now I got you three right here," he added happily. "An' I thought to myself, I could get things straight from the hippogriff's mouth, as it were. So what happened?"
Harry hadn't quite anticipated talking about things again so quickly. "Well, it happened pretty much the way you heard, I guess."
"Well, yeah. That's good, then, that's it not a bunch of rumors flyin' around. But I thought you might add some flavor to the tellin'," Hagrid said, sounding disappointed.
Harry felt a rush of guilt. It had been Hagrid, nearly seven years ago, who had come to tell Harry on his eleventh birthday that he was a wizard and that he was going to Hogwarts. Hagrid had been his friend all these years, along with Ron and Hermione; he didn't want his last visit with him here to be a disappointment to either of them.
Slowly, Harry reached up and removed the chain and golden sphere that was hanging around his neck. "This," he said, holding out for the other three to see, "is what's left of Lord Voldemort."
They all stared at the small golden object at the end of the chain. Finally Hagrid said, "Maybe I'm a bit slow, Harry, but what is it that you're showing us here? Did you turn Voldemort into a little gold ball or somethin?' "
"No," Harry shook his head. "I know this will sound strange, but Jon made this crystal ball and when I touched it to Voldemort's skin, it sucked him inside."
"Inside?" Hermione said, peering at the small sphere curiously. "You mean all of him? Why?"
"He never told me!" Harry said, frustrated. "I asked but he said it would take too long. He said he would tell me later."
"We haven't seen him since we came back from Diagon Alley," Ron said.
"Do you think he left?" Hermione suggested.
"He could have," Harry said with a shrug. "He might have taken his Corvette."
"Corvette?" Hagrid said, looking at them. "D'you mean to say that Jon was the one drivin' that vehicle around London?"
"…Yeah," Harry said, after a moment. "And…we sort of were with him."
If they'd expected a lecture from Hagrid, however, they were mistaken. The Keeper of the Keys merely smiled. "Never could keep you out of things, could we, Harry?"
"It seems not," Harry said, returning the smile. "You know me – if there's ancient magic or an evil wizard about, I'm there."
They talked for the rest of the afternoon about the other things that had gone on that year: N.E.W.T.s, the Vault Tournament, including Ron's opening of it, and the hearing coming up in the next few days, and about Hagrid as well – how his classes had been going, what had been going on in the Forbidden Forest (the acromantula population had been growing, causing some problems for the other animals there) and even how things had been going with Madame Maxime, whom they learned had visited him for a short time during the Christmas break.
"Why didn't you tell us!" Hermione exclaimed, beaming at him, and Hagrid seemed to actually blush. "That was very nice of her!"
"Well, we did have a right nice time," Hagrid said, fidgeting with a rock cake; it shattered to powder in his fingers. "Anyway," he said, flustered, "I may take a trip this summer to see her, in France."
Harry and Ron exchanged glances. Not that long ago, they would have rolled their eyes at Hagrid's words, but a lot had happened since those days; Harry liked to think that he understand more about Hagrid's feelings for Madame Maxime now than he had a few years ago.
Finally, when it was time to go, Hagrid stood next to his doorway, Fang at his side, to see them off. "Don' fergit," he said, "to lemme know what happens at yer hearing, Ron," he said, a massive hand on his shoulder. Ron nodded and put his hand on Hagrid's.
"Hermione," he said next, leaning down to her as she looked upward with bright eyes, into his. "Mind you take care of these lads – don' let 'em get too wild now that they're goin' out into the wide world."
"I won't," she said, and suddenly reached up and hugged Hagrid about his neck. He patted her gently on the back, then stood up again after a few moments and turned to Harry.
"Well, Harry – I promised myself I wouldn't cry," Hagrid said, his voice breaking. He took out a tablecloth-sized handkerchief and blew his nose noisily into it. "I just know yer parents'd be so proud, Harry." Hagrid sniffed loudly, trying to look happy.
Harry put his hand on Hagrid's arm. "I know they would, Hagrid," he said gently. "Thanks for everything you've done for all of us, these past seven years." He moved forward and hugged Hagrid, who put an arm around his shoulder, still sniffling.
"Alright, then, off you go," Hagrid said, waving them on their way. "I'll look for yeh at the Hogwarts Express on Friday."
They waved back at him as they made their way toward the castle. If Voldemort had been the worst thing that had happened to him at Hogwarts, Harry thought, Hagrid was surely one of the best.
By Thursday morning, the day of the hearing at Gringotts, Harry and the others had heard nothing more from either Bill or Jon. In Jon's case, it was no big deal, even though Harry wondered if his things were still up in the Room of Requirement; but they needed Bill for the hearing. Hermione had gleaned some information about wizard-goblin agreements from several history books and collections of Ministry bulletins and agreements with them, but nothing she felt could help them in the meeting.
There had been duplicity and treaty violations on both sides. With the recent problems caused by Voldemort relations were even further strained. An article in the Prophet that morning suggested that many goblins were unconvinced about the news of his demise. Ron scowled at the paper while reading this. "What do they want, bleedin' pictures?" he snorted, but Harry said nothing – the descriptions of his "final battle" with Voldemort weren't altogether accurate, he knew.
After breakfast, Harry, Ron and Hermione decided to see if they could find Jon anywhere in the castle. Their first stop, in the entrance hall, was to see if his name was still on the Naming Scroll. It was, as was theirs and a few dozen other students. The school was practically deserted.
"Let's check his dormitory," Ron suggested, and they walked up to Gryffindor Tower and up the boys' staircase to the second room from the top, where Jon had stayed with the second-years. His bed was freshly-made, as were the others, but his trunk still sat at the foot of his bed; none of the other beds had trunks in front of them as all of the other boys in this dormitory had gone home for the summer.
Ron pulled out his wand and pointed it at Jon's trunk. "What are you doing?" Hermione demanded in a half-whisper.
"Having a look," Ron said, waving his wand at the lock. It popped open without protest. "Whoa. That was almost too easy," he said, looking at the trunk warily.
"You shouldn't be snooping around in his things!" Hermione said severely.
"Yes, Mum," Ron said sarcastically. "With five older brothers, 'snooping' makes good sense. You never know what little pearls of information you might come up with."
"Doesn't make it right," Hermione sniffed.
"It's not like he cared, Hermione," Ron said reasonably. "There wasn't even any magical protection on the lock." He pushed open the trunk and stared inside. "What the hell –?"
The trunk was empty. All three of them leaned over the top of the trunk to peer inside.
After several seconds Harry suggested, "Maybe a hidden compartment –"
"Probably," Hermione said. She started to take out her wand and Ron, leaning back, gave Harry a knowing look. Seeing him, Hermione snapped, "Oh, shut up!"
"I didn't say anything!" Ron protested, though his tone was light. Hermione made several passes with her wand over the open trunk, frowning more with every pass.
"Nothing," she said finally. "Nothing at all. This trunk is just a trunk."
"Maybe everything's in the Room of Requirement," Harry suggested.
"I suppose," Hermione said, thinking hard. "But the Hogwarts Express leaves tomorrow at 11 a.m. – why wouldn't he at least have gotten his clothing and books packed. And why keep them in the Room of Requirement in the first place? It doesn't make sense!"
"Well what do you expect?" Ron shrugged. "He's an American."
"Americans put their pants on one leg at a time, just like we do," Hermione pointed out.
"Oh?" Ron said, now giving her a stern look. "And you know this how, exactly?"
"You're pathetic," she said wearily, shaking her head. "It's an expression, Ron!"
"Why don't we go check out the Room of Requirement," Harry suggested quickly, trying to avoid another argument. They were all nervous about the hearing that afternoon, and tempers were short. "We can see if we can get into Jon's room."
"Fine," Hermione said, a bit shrilly, and Ron tipped the top of the trunk closed. They walked in silence to the corridor where Barnabas the Barmy and his ballet-dancing trolls hung silently on the wall. Harry took out his wand and approached the wall opposite the tapestry. It had been a long time since he'd heard the words Jon used to gain quick access to the Room of Requirement, but he had repeated them over and over again in order to remember them. Thinking, I need to get into Jon's room, I need to get into Jon's room, Harry tapped the wall three times, saying "Desidero…cello…indigus!" each time, his voice becoming stronger with each repetition. An oaken door appeared before them.
"You did it!" Ron crowed. He pulled the door open and he, Harry and Hermione hurried into the room, where they found Jon's Corvette and workshop exactly the same as the last time Harry and Ron had been here.
"Well, not quite exactly the same," Hermione said after checking several cabinets. "These are all empty."
"Here too," Ron said, looking along another wall. "It looks like the only thing he left was the car."
But Harry had spied two objects sitting on a counter top in a far corner of the room. "Over here," he said. They hurried over to join him, where a copy of Advanced Potion-Making and a golden ring sat, each with a slip of parchment near them, with writing on each of them.
Harry picked up the parchment next to the book and read,
Oftentimes the words in books, you'll find
Are products of a greater mind,
But not all words in books are true
Or even a good thing for you to do.
"It's Snape's copy," Harry said. He'd recognized the book at once.
"We shouldn't leave that in here," Hermione said. She had never liked the book Harry had accidentally been given in Professor Slughorn's class last year, even before she knew who it had belonged to.
"No," Harry said, when she reached for it. "Leave it here. It was my choice not to use it again. If anyone else finds it, it'll be their choice how they use it as well."
"Look at this!" Ron said, picking up the other piece of parchment next to the ring.
Tap the Ring with your wand and say, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." Then say "Help!" to learn what the Ring can do.
"Blimey," Ron said, awed, "He made another Marauder's Map ring!"
Harry looked at his own ring. In another couple of days it would soon become useless; once he left Hogwarts he would have no further use for it. He considered leaving his own ring with the one already here, but decided against it – it would be a remembrance of his friendship with Jon, whom he expected they would never see again.
"Let's go," Harry said. "We should ask Professor McGonagall if she's heard from Bill." Leaving everything as they found it, the three exited the Room of Requirement, heading for the Head's office.
However, as they entered the corridor leading to the stone gargoyle that stood before the entrance to McGonagall's office, Professor McGonagall herself appeared. "I've been trying to locate you, Weasley," she said to Ron, looking tense. "There's still no word from your brother, is there?"
"No ma'am," Ron said.
"We were coming to ask you, Professor," Hermione said.
McGonagall looked around, then stepped up to the gargoyle and said, "Blancmange." The gargoyle leapt aside and they hurried up the steps to her office.
Once there, McGonagall walked behind her desk and sat down heavily. Harry and the other followed her to her desk, looking at one another apprehensively.
"I received a Patronus from Bill last night," McGonagall finally blurted out, very unlike her usually reserved demeanor. "It said only, 'Will receive translation Thursday morning, laying low until then, have everyone in entrance hall ready to go.' It concerns me," she said, "that Bill feels he has to 'lay low' until almost before the hearing."
"Who's he laying low from?" Harry asked.
"I don't know," McGonagall admitted. "That's why I'm concerned. If he's hiding from the goblins at Gringotts, we're in a sticky wicket for certain."
Ron was becoming increasingly upset by this talk. "What are we going to do, then?" he demanded, forgetting who he was addressing.
McGonagall seemed not to notice. "It's nearly time for dinner. After that I want you in the entrance hall and ready to go at a moment's notice."
"But what if he doesn't show –"
"Mister Weasley, that is quite enough from you," McGonagall finally cut him off, sternly. "Your brother Bill is quite capable of taking care of himself! Now all of you get ready for the hearing, and I'll want to see you in the Great Hall not one second after noon!"
"But –"
"Now, Mr. Weasley!"
Five minutes later, Ron and Harry had finished changing into their best shirts, ties and robes for the hearing at Gringotts. "I don't see what the old bat is getting so rummy for. He's my brother!"
"She's just worried," Harry said. "We all are."
"Right," Ron said, sighing.
They bolted their dinners and went immediately to the entrance hall, followed by most of the students still at school. Many of the seventh-years were still there, perhaps because it was the last few days most of them would ever spend there. A number of other students were still there, some of them not ready, for whatever reason, to leave until the very last day.
Terry Boot came up to Ron and shook his hand. "Good luck, Weasley," he said. "I read the account in the Prophet – you did an excellent job figuring out that puzzle."
"Thanks, Boot," Ron accepted the praise with a fair amount of surprise – Ravenclaw students didn't offer it to students in other Houses often. He glanced at Hermione, who was beaming at him, obviously mindful of the same thing.
It was coming onto two p.m. when Michael Corner, standing at the front door, yelled, "Someone's running up from the front gate!"
McGonagall flew to the front door. "It's him!" she cried, motioning quickly for Harry, Ron and Hermione to come forward. Just as they ran up Bill burst through the front door, completely winded. "Come – on!" he gasped, holding out an empty butterbeer bottle.
"Bill!" Ron shouted. "Where the hell have you been?!"
"No – time!" Bill gasped, shaking the bottle in front of them. "Portkey – going – any second – now!" At that moment the bottle flashed blue and Ron, Harry and Hermione – and Ginny, who was standing next to her – put their fingers on the bottle, and it pulled them inward and away.
"Miss Weasley!" Harry heard McGonagall shout, but whatever else she said was cut off as they were whisked away, spinning wildly amidst swirling colors, to land moments later on the platform outside Gringotts, next to the Vault.
"Come on!" Bill shouted even as they landed. Ginny staggered and Harry caught her as they turned and ran toward the front doors of the Bank. Harry glimpsed a bright golden band encircling the Vault as they passed it at speed.
"Follow me!" Bill dashed past the long counter of goblins who looked up, startled, as the five humans dashed past them. They each leaned forward and stared after them, then looked at each other. Bill turned down a corridor, zig-zagging through the back offices of the bank. "We have to get there by 2:01 p.m.," he yelled, "or by goblin law the judgment goes to the party present!"
"Who the hell set up the time for the Portkey?" Ron bawled.
"It had to go through the Ministry!" Bill yelled back as they ran down a flight of stone steps and down a long, torch lit corridor. "Dolores Umbridge blackmailed the wizard who cast the spell! Just as well, though," he added as they skidded to a halt in front of a heavy wooden door. "I couldn't have made it back to the school one minute earlier," he panted, out of breath, and flung open the door.
It looked like a courtroom, Harry saw, similar to Courtroom Ten in the Ministry of Magic, but with two tables before the judges' benches instead of a single chain-decked chair. The two goblins, Gornuk and Artag, sitting at the right-hand table, watched them enter with frowning expressions. Gornuk stood and addressed the bench. "The petitioner is late. I move for judgment by the governors."
Beyond them, three old goblins, who Harry guessed were the governors Gornuk referred to, consulted with each other briefly. After a moment, the one in the middle, an ancient, gnarled, entirely hairless goblin, spoke in a rasping whisper, "The time limit has only just expired, Truth-Speaker Gornuk. In the interest of goblin-wizard relations, we will hear the petition."
Bill turned to Ron, and Harry heard him say softly, "They think they've got us anyway, on the rules of the tournament."
Harry moved closer to Ginny, who was looking around at the room while catching her breath. "Why'd you come?" he whispered to her.
"Just an impulse," she whispered back. "It was too good an opportunity to pass up."
"I'm glad you're here," Harry told her, squeezing her arm lightly. She smiled and patted his hand. At the other table, Artag and Gornuk were whispering among themselves.
The ancient goblin was rapping on an old leather-bound book for silence. When everyone fell silent he looked toward their table. "Let the petitioner proceed."
Bill thrust a piece of parchment into Ron's hands. "Read this," he whispered.
"Me?" Ron whispered, sounding horrified, but at an urgent nod from Bill he stood, cleared his throat and began,
"Honored Governors and Officers of Gringotts Wizarding Bank, thank you for hearing the petition that I, Ronald Bilius Weasley, bring before you.
"To wit –"
Ron blinked and looked around at Bill, mouthing the words "to wit" with an incredulous expression. Bill merely gestured for him to continue reading. Sighing, Ron went on.
"— to wit: First, that as a duly registered and confirmed Contestant, I was given the right to attempt to open the Gringotts Bank Mystery Vault. Second, that within the prescribed time allocated I was able to unlock said Vault with no outside assistance or consultation. Third, that before said time expired the tournament was suspended by the Gringotts Vault Tournament Judges Committee over the objections of the Tournament Referee, William Arthur Weasley.
"I therefore make petition to be deemed Winner of the Vault Competition and Owner of the Gringotts Bank Mystery Vault, with all rights and responsibilities apportioning thereto. I humbly thank the Governors and Officers of Gringotts for hearing me today. Thank you."
Bill nodded at him, smiling, and Ron dropped the parchment on the table before him. The ancient goblin turned to Gornuk. "The respondent may speak." Gornuk stood to address the room.
"Thank you, Governor Gurdolp, and honored Governors. The Vault Tournament Judges Committees's position is simple: The contest has been deemed not only suspended, but closed. It therefore cannot be re-opened, even with the agreement of the Board of Governors, without appointing a third committee member to replace Referee Weasley, who terminated his employment with Gringotts before completing his assigned duties." There were some mutters from the governors at this. Ron leaned over to Bill and Harry leaned in to listen as well.
"Is that a problem, you not completing your duties?" Ron whispered tensely.
"It's a factor," Bill said. "It was well-played by Gornuk – he knows the governors will take that into consideration as well as my resignation under protest."
"But what good is this doing, anyway?" Hermione whispered. "They don't need a third member do they, Bill? From what I've read, as long as any two-member judges committee is in agreement, any decisions they make are binding."
"True," Bill agreed quietly. "But we're just going through the petition to give them a chance to get out of this gracefully."
"What do you mean?" Ron asked, but at that moment the ancient goblin spoke again, this time to Bill.
"Is this true, Cursebreaker? Did you forsake your responsibilities in tendering your resignation?"
Bill stood. "I tendered my resignation in response to actions by other committee members that I considered inappropriate," he replied, his voice clear and steady. The three governors again muttered among each other.
"Irrelevant," the goblin on the left finally said. "We must find in favor of the Committee." The other two goblins nodded in agreement. "The resignation of William Arthur Weasley is hereby accepted," said the goblin on the right.
"Didn't think that would go over," Bill muttered to Ron and Harry.
"Do you have any other evidence to present?" Gurdolp asked Ron, who looked helplessly at Bill. Bill, in turn, handed him an envelope which, Harry saw, was the envelope that had been in Archie Weasley's journal. Bill leaned over and whispered in Ron's ear. Ron looked at him sharply, but turned to Gurdolp.
"If it please the Governors of Gringotts Wizarding Bank," Ron said, his voice slightly aquiver. "I offer this document, held by my great-uncle Archimedes Weasley." He started to walk forward but one of the goblins put up his hand and Ron stopped. The envelope floated out of his hand and into the goblin's, who then opened and began to read it. After a few moments, however, he stopped, looked sharply at Artag and Gornuk, then continued reading, becoming more and more agitated as he did so. He handed the parchment to Gurdolp, who read it, becoming visibly angry as he did so. The third goblin leaned over, reading as well, looking at Gurdolp after he'd finished and pointing to something in the document. Gurdolp nodded curtly.
Finally, he handed to parchment back to the first goblin, who floated it to the opposing table where Gornuk caught it from the air. "Read the document," Gurdolp said, his rasping voice thick with repressed anger, "and tell us the meaning of it."
Gornuk scanned the parchment, his eyes growing wider with each line he read. Wordlessly, he passed it to Artag. The elder goblin took it, scowling imperiously at Gornuk, and began to read. By the time he'd finished, however, his demeanor had changed quite a bit.
"This c-cannot be," he whispered. "I don't…"
"Don't remember?" Gurdolp finished for him. "Odd, that is. I certainly would remember an agreement like that, had I made it. Even one made nearly 30 years ago."
"What's going on?" Ron whispered to Bill. In reply his eldest brother produced another sheet of parchment from his robe's vest pocket and handed it to Ron.
"The envelope you found was an agreement between great-Uncle Archie and the newly-appointed Chief Goblin of Gringotts Wizarding Bank. Here's the translation." Ron held it so Harry and the others could read it as well:
This Agreement, made 1 January 1970, by and between Archimedes Lucius Weasley of Ottery St. Catchpole, Devon ("the Client"), and Artag, Chief Goblin of Gringotts Wizarding Bank ("the Bank"), makes the following binding provisions.
(1) The Client will lease storage space from the Bank for the following property: one vault, wizard-built, measuring 10 feet and 2 inches in width, by 10 feet and 2 inches in height, by 10 feet and 4 inches in height, with silver and gold engraved inlays at all corners, locked by a mechanical lock enhanced with magical safeguards.
(2) The Bank agrees to lease storage space for the item described above for the Client for a period not to exceed fifty years, and to ensure its safe return to the Client at any time before the allotted period has expired.
(3) The Client agrees to remit to the Bank the sum of one thousand Galleons per year, for a total of fifty thousand Galleons, in advance, in return for safe storage.
(4) The Bank agrees, if said Property identified in (1) cannot be returned in original condition, to remit to the Client, his assigns or heirs, the sum of one hundred thousand Galleons.
(5) The Bank shall provide all necessary safeguards and protections for the Property it deems proper and fitting.
(signed) Artag, Chief Goblin of Gringotts Bank
(signed) Archimedes Lucius Weasley
"It's a contract!" Harry shouted gleefully.
"Order!" Gurdolp rapped his book on the bench. "Quiet, you!"
"Yes," Bill said with a smile. "It's a contract. And it's binding."
"Quiet!" Gurdolp rasped again. "Be quiet!"
"Brilliant!" Hermione said to Ron. "They have to turn over the Vault or pay you one hundred thousand Galleons!"
"Wait!" Gornuk shouted. "We must determine who Archimedes Weasley's heirs are before we can turn anything over to them!"
"I thought you might say that," Bill said, bringing out another envelope. "So I took procured a copy of his will from the Ministry of Magic, for your perusal. It stipulated that if no one had heard from him for a period of twenty years or more, that his will should be executed.
"It was so executed in 1990," Bill continued, "and in it he left all his possessions to his nephew Arthur Weasley, his wife Molly, and all of their children, jointly and severally.
"So now, governors, unless you are prepared to renege on your duly executed agreement, you must hand over either the Vault, or one hundred thousand Galleons," Bill concluded.
The three goblins stared at one another; all of them looked extremely vexed. When Artag ventured to speak, "Governors, I –" Gurdolp silenced him with a glance.
The ancient goblin stared shrewdly at them, rubbing his wrinkled chin thoughtfully. "Very well, Cursebreaker," he finally said. "It seems we have little choice. We will be magnanimous in defeat, however, and allow you to choose what your remittance shall be – the Vault, or the one hundred thousand Galleons."
The two governors on either side of Gurdolp both leapt to their feet. "No! Fool!" they shouted. The ancient goblin, however, shouted a phrase in Gobbledegook. The two governors stared, furious, at him but both took their seats again and remained silent.
In reply, Bill turned to Ron. "Your choice, little brother," he said. "You opened the Vault." Ron's eyes widened. He turned to look at Harry and Hermione.
"A little help?" he said. But Hermione was shaking her head.
"You have to go with your heart this time, Ron," Hermione said, giving him a look of pure trust and hope. "I know you'll make the right decision."
Ron gave her a look of perfect chagrin. "The one time I actually ask for your opinion, love, and you won't give it to me," he said wryly.
"What did you say?" Hermione asked at once.
"I said, the one time –"
"After that!"
"Er – 'and you won't give it to me?' "
"Ron," Harry said with a grin. "You called her 'love.' "
"I did?" Ron said, grinning back at him. "It must've slipped out."
"Oh Ron!" Hermione leapt into his arms and kissed him passionately.
It went on so long that Gurdolp turned to one of the other governors and asked, "It is a wizard ritual?"
"It's a human ritual," Harry said, to no one in particular.
Finally Ron and Hermione surfaced and stepped back, both red-faced and breathing more heavily than necessary. He looked to Bill, who said gently, "You still have to decide which payment we should take, Ron."
"Go for it, Ron," Ginny said, giving him a confident smile.
Still holding onto Hermione, Ron looked at the three governors. "My great-Uncle Archie left us this vault all those years ago," he said, looking into her eyes as she smiled radiantly at him. "Whatever's in there, he wanted us to have it. I reckon if my great-Uncle went to all that trouble, we ought to trust he knew what he was doing. I choose the Vault."
Gurdolp smiled, a hideous, nasty rictus. "I thought you might," he said, and pulled an envelop from his dark robe. "Here is something else Artag has forgotten about – although I haven't. Read it," he said, and the envelope floated into Ron's hands. "It's written in both Gobbledegook and your language." Ron looked at the note and read:
Honored Governor Gurdolp,
My evaluation of the human, Archimedes Weasley, and his proposed arrangement for the vault he wishes Gringotts to store for fifty years for an annual amount of one thousand Galleons, payable in advance, is as follows:
First, Weasley has been losing money at a steady pace. His vault holds only a few hundred Galleons and his mother's vault contains approximately fifty-four thousand Galleons.
Second, he is an excellent craftsman but seems to lack the business acumen to put his skills to good financial use.
Third, his brothers Lucius and Hieronymus, while possessing admirable business talents, have been engaging in questionable ventures. Their younger brother, Septimus, has refused their guidance and has instead entrusted their mother's assets to Archimedes. However, these assets have been removed steadily from her vault during the past two years, during which time Archimedes has stated he was building his own vault.
Fourth, while the Weasley family still has adequate resources to live comfortably if they are careful, the payment of the lease amount will put them into serious financial straits. It therefore makes no business sense whatsoever for Weasley to store his vault in Gringotts for legitimate business or fiduciary reasons. I estimate it will contain, at most three to four thousand Galleons if Weasley places it in our safekeeping.
Finally, the property, insured for double the total lease amount, could be used in an attempt to turn around his initial investment for a one hundred percent profit within a few years, if something were to happen to it while in our keeping. I propose a set of level five spells to protect the vault from external and internal tampering. If Weasley intends to retrieve collect the vault within a few years and collect the indemnity upon our default, he will be very surprised to find it completely intact.
Submitted for your approval,
Your servant,
Artag, Chief Goblin of Gringotts Wizarding Bank
"Clever," Bill said mildly, turning to look at Artag. All the goblins were now all grinning at them. "So you figured you would take advantage of him, thinking he was trying to scam you."
"You'll pardon me for not feeling guilty about that," Artag said nastily. Your ancestor attempted to cheat us – whatever setbacks he suffered because of that are entirely his own fault."
"Then I suggest we make it official and see which way the wind is blowing," Bill said coolly. Declare Ron the winner of the Vault Tournament, give him the Vault, and we'll ask that it be opened and an official register of its contents made."
"Done," Gurdolp said, signing a parchment already before him. It looked to Harry like they had this already thought-out, however it had played. But – Artag was mopping beads of sweat from his wrinkled forehead, even in the coolness of the room. "We will now make the announcement to the public."
Everyone made their way back to the lobby of the Bank and from there to the platform where the Vault sat waiting for them. Gornuk read the decision of the Judges Committee and everyone in the street in front of Gringotts – which looked like the entire population of Diagon Alley, including, Harry saw, Fred and George Weasley, cheered loudly.
"We will now break the seal on the Vault and have a Gringotts Official Counter register for the contents of the Vault," Gornuk announced. He and Bill, the casters of the joint spell, stepped up to the Vault, and Bill waved his wand while Gornuk ran a thin finger along the silvery band around the Vault's middle, which promptly disappeared.
Bill motioned for Ron to come up and open the door. Ron did so, looking a little self-conscious, but he smiled and waved as he walked up. He took hold of the handle, by now thoroughly cleared of Portkey remnants or any other type of illegal travel device, and pulled. The door opened ponderously, just enough to allow the Counter, a goblin carrying a small hand abacus, to enter, after placing a small block on the door of the Vault to keep it from fully closing and locking. The door pulled shut on the block and Ron walked back nervously to Bill.
"How long d'you think it'll take?" he asked Bill.
"Depends on how much treasure's in there, of course." Bill looked at him with admiration in his eyes. "Ron, it took real courage not to choose the sure thing, the one hundred thousand Galleons. I know that was a hard decision."
"You know it," Ron said feelingly. They chuckled, as did Ginny, Harry and Hermione.
Five minutes stretched into ten, and ten into fifteen. Fred and George had joined Ginny and their brothers on the platform. Ron had taken to biting his nails in frustration.
"Didn't Dad say great-Uncle Archie was an avid bottle cap collector," Fred mused.
"I heard he had a 'thing' about Muggle light bulbs," George mused.
"Shut it," Ron said irritably. "S'not funny!"
"Let's just hope he wasn't using that thing as a humidor for his Jamaican tobacco collection," Fred said to George.
Finally, thirty-seven minutes after entering the Vault, the door opened slightly and the goblin Counter slipped out. He walked directly past Bill and handed the register to Gornuk. The Truth-Speaker took a look at it, stood, handed it to Gurdolp and walked into the bank without a word.
Gurdolp looked at the total, blanched, then stood stiffly and walked over to Bill. "Congratulations," he said, handing him the register. Then he and the other governors stood and Disapparated.
Bill looked at the tally board, swallowed, then walked up to the podium. "Ladies and gentlemen, the final tally and total winnings for the Vault Tournament are: 178,243 Galleons, 7 Sickles and 3 Knuts."
There was a collective gasp, followed by thunderous applause. Harry leaped, his hands in the air, shouting "WOOOOOO! WEASLEY! WEASLEY! WEASLEY!" Soon the entire crowd was chanting with him.
Ron gaped; he looked like someone could knock him over with a feather. When Ginny grabbed him and began jumping up and down, screaming his name, he barely seemed to know what was happening.
"YOU DID IT, RON!!" Harry screamed at him, clapping him on the back, as were Ginny, Bill, Fred and George. "YOU WON!!"
"Wow," Ron said, looking around in a daze. "I won!" Then he fainted, but Harry and Hermione caught him before he hit the ground.
By the end of the day a special edition of the Daily Prophet had come out, describing the events of the day, at least as the paper understood it. The headline across the top of the Prophet read
Weasley Family Wins Vault Tournament Jackpot
Accompanying the headline was a rather slapdash account of what had occurred in front of the crowd, along with the Prophet's usual speculations about what had gone on behind closed doors. As usual, it was mostly guesswork, but with a few uncomfortably close ideas about what had happened. Harry started to wonder if he should keep an eye out for any beetles that might be flitting about – especially a beetle with markings around its antennas that were exactly like the glasses a certain female journalist wore.
None of that was important now, however – the students still at school were celebrating Ron's win in the Great Hall with an impromptu feast of cakes, pastries, pies and pumpkin juice. Ron and Hermione were sitting together at the middle of the Gryffindor table, everyone else gathering around them laughing and celebrating as Ron described the hearing with details never revealed in the Prophet's article.
Harry, laughing as Ron described the look on Gurdolp's face as the amount in the Vault was revealed, felt a tap on his shoulder. It was Professor McGonagall, who motioned for him to accompany her. He followed her into the room off to the right of the High Table.
"I wanted a word before you left tomorrow," McGonagall said, and Harry felt an uncharacteristic hesitancy from her. "To let you know, in case you were wondering about your N.E.W.T. scores."
"I thought we would get them sometime next month," Harry said.
"Yes, but in certain cases some students are given…advance notification," McGonagall said. "Have you considered lately your desire to become an Auror?"
The question took Harry aback. It was true that, a few years ago when Dolores Umbridge was Headmistress and High Inquisitor at Hogwarts, she declared that Harry would never be selected for an Auror, and Professor McGonagall had pledged to do everything in her power to help him succeed in that ambition. Now, with his N.E.W.T. s behind him, the time to decide was nearly upon him.
"I – well, it hasn't been uppermost in my mind, Professor," Harry said honestly. He wasn't sure what else to say.
"I understand, Harry," McGonagall said kindly. "It's a big decision, of course. I –" she hesitated a fraction before saying "– took the liberty of reviewing your N.E.W.T. examinations before sending them on to the Wizarding Examination Authority at the Ministry."
"You did?" But Harry was not as surprised as he sounded.
"Yes. You did – well – on all of your theoreticals. Exceeds or better in all subjects. Although –" she gave him a stern look "— your Potion result was not far from an Acceptable. Something for you to consider for some summer reading, Mr. Potter." She handed him an envelope. "I've put a few forms in here for you, in case you decide to apply at the Ministry."
Harry took the envelope, but didn't say anything. There were still a few things that bothered him about the Ministry, not the least of which was Dolores Umbridge, who was still working there. As if in response the back of his right hand tingled where the words "I must not tell lies," had been cut into his flesh by Umbridge's special quill.
"I have to think about it," he told her.
"Of course," she said, a small smile on her lips. Then, suddenly brisk again, "Well, you should get back to your friends, and enjoy your last evening here." She turned and walked through the opposite door.
At that moment Ginny leaned in the door he and McGonagall had originally come through. "Oi, Harry, where – there you are," she said, looking around the room. "What are you doing in here?"
"Professor McGonagall and I were talking," Harry replied, walking over to her. He was very glad to see her alone like this. "She wondered whether I was going to go on become an Auror."
"You are, aren't you?" Ginny said, seriously.
Harry looked at her.
"You've done some pretty amazing things in the last few years, Harry," Ginny went on, walking up to stand in front of him. "Not the least of which is, getting rid of Voldemort. I think the Ministry of Magic could do a whole lot worse than have you as an Auror."
Harry leaned forward and kissed her on the mouth. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. A long, wonderful moment later they moved apart and smiled at each other. "Do you want to go for a walk –"
"— down to the lake?" Ginny finished his question. "I'd love to." Harry turned toward the door.
"But not that way," she said, grabbing his arm. "Let's go this way," she said indicating the way McGonagall had left. "No one needs to know where we're going. At least, not for a while."
They left arm in arm, looking at each other with new emotions coursing through them. It would be a wonderful last night here, Harry knew.