Chapter 7: After the Cup
By the end of his first week, Draco had very little free time. Friday afternoons were committed to tea at Hagrid's. Tuesdays and Thursday were agreed to be private lessons with Professor Snape. Draco was curious how they would be now that Hermione was going to be a regular visitor. And Sunday morning was the time he visited Walburga Black's portrait.
Draco already set aside time to practice his guitar. He decided he needed at least two hours, three times a week. More if he felt like it and time permitted. And he had a curious problem to solve.
It was Saturday. Hermione and Justin had found Draco at his private place overlooking the lake. The same place the Professor Snape had found him during his first year. They had less trouble as they could hear him practicing as they came close. Draco asked his question.
"'mione, what do you know about Gringotts?"
"Thinking of going back to a life of crime?"
"Naw. It's a logic problem. Sirius Black asked me how I'd do it. I thought I'd give him an answer."
"You only want to annoy him," Justin pointed out.
Draco admitted his mate was correct, but he also wanted to annoy Black with an answer that was thought out. He admitted what he did know. Apparently anyone could apparate into Gringotts but they could not apparate out. Hermione told him that was probably true but any wizard or witch would have to know where. She also told him what she had heard. Numerous traps, wards and possibly a dragon, although that might not be true.
Justin told them it was. Near end of term last year, Casper Lestrange (nee Black) was bragging how his family vault was deeper than the Potter vault. While both vaults were past the waterfall, the Lestrange vault was right next to the dragon.
Justin explained that the waterfall was a ward that removed any enchantments and eliminated any active spells. Casper had even told them that the goblins could control the dragon so that it did not harm legitimate customers. It was chained so it couldn't wander around. And when the goblins rang their clangers it knew to stay back or else. Casper also bragged about some of the heirlooms that his parents had stored in the vault.
Draco smiled. Justin had confirmed how James Potter and his friends knew about Helga Hufflepuff's cup. He also confirmed exactly how big a mouth Casper did have.
The conversation shifted to others Draco could talk to. Hagrid would know what kind of traps there were. They all agreed he would want to know just for the fun of it. The junior DADA professor was suggested. He was supposed to have been with the Goblin Liaison Office at one time. Then the conversation drifted to other things, ending with Justin asking if he could come with them to visit Professor Snape.
As the day waned, Draco played for them the new song he was trying to learn. He only made three mistakes but he was playing it about half the normal speed as he tried to remember the notes.
Justin agreed that practicing as far away from the school as possible was a very good idea.
Care of Magical Creatures was the same as the year before. Professor Lestrange sat off to one side and watched as Rubeus Hagrid taught the class. Professor Lestrange must have had some influence on the giant because the few classes they've had so far did not include anything exotic or dangerous. There were rumours that Hagrid had found some kind of dangerous pet but that Rodolphus Lestrange had put his foot down. The man may have a sadistic streak, and would probably have enjoyed it, but if too many students ended up in the infirmary everyone knew who would be held responsible.
Today's lesson was about the dangerous creatures in the lake. A large tank of water sitting on a tree trunk contained several small, ugly looking horned things with long fingers. Hagrid explained they were Grindylows, a species of water demon. Lavender Brown said the Unicorns were nicer.
Next, they were shown an old piece of driftwood. Hagrid warned them to be careful. He then showed everyone why. With quick hands, he grabbed it in the middle. Even Draco stepped back at what happened next. A mouth appeared at one end and snapped helplessly at the hand holding it. Paws with sharp claws also appeared but they could not reach the elusive hand, either. As soon as Hagrid set it down, the creature scurried off in the direction of the forest.
"It's a Dugbog. They're mostly harmless," Hagrid explained to the disbelieving students. "They live on plants. And they love mandrake. This one'll probably head back to the nearest marsh."
"Hagrid," Hermione asked, "won't you need that, um, animal for your next class."
"You were the last class. All I need to do now is throw them Grindylows back in the lake."
To Draco's sorrow, Hagrid did not actually throw the creatures. He dismissed the class then picked up the large tank and carried it away.
"Draco." Professor Lestrange waved him over. Hermione came along out of curiosity.
"A private conversation, please," Lestrange told her, his eternal smile still in place.
"I'll tell you all about it later," Draco promised. Hermione gave him a smile and promised to wait out of earshot.
"Meeting someone tonight?" was Draco's first question.
The smile grew slightly larger. "Why, yes I am. How clever of you to figure that one out. I would like you to join us. We're meeting at Seven. I want you to arrive ten minutes later."
Draco frowned. "In the forest?"
Rodolphus barked a laugh. "I fear there will be no more meetings in the woods this year. Something else is going on. One of HIS men is in the castle now. I don't need to sneak out anymore." He waved his hand in a dismissive manner. "Meet me later at my office." As Draco turned, he was called back. "And one more thing. Make up a good excuse for why you dropped by without an invitation."
"Yeah," Draco drawled, his confusion obvious. "This ain't because of whot I tol' you about Travers?"
Rodolphus smiled again. "Your accent is slipping."
"Bloody hell," Draco muttered as he turned away and walked toward Hermione.
As they walked back to the castle, she asked a telling question. "Is there another meeting tonight?"
Draco looked at her and smiled. He knew what lie to tell. More correctly, he knew what part of the truth to only tell. "Naw. Ain't no more meetin's. Him an' 'is brother don't get along anymore." As they continued walking, he asked how she found out. Hermione smiled. She didn't find out. She thought they might be getting together the same as with Professor Snape. She was trying to invite herself along. What was unsaid was that Draco would now have to explain why Professor Lestrange was secretly meeting with his brother, an escaped Prisoner from Azkaban. Draco would also have to explain how and why he knew about it.
"I'll need to let Dumbledore know I told you. And, Hermione," his voice became deadly serious, "you can't mention this to anyone, including me."
Draco smiled. He had bought himself some time, and given himself an excuse for sneaking off by himself after dinner.
Draco checked his pickle watch. When it showed ten minutes after Seven, he knocked on the door to Professor Lestrange's office. He waited until a hesitant "come in" was heard. Then he opened the door.
"Excuse me, Professor, I was wondering . . . Oh, sorry , din't know you had company."
Draco tried not to frown. He knew the man his godfather was talking to. Ludovic Bagman, the Head of Games and Sports. The last time they had met, the man had suggested giving Kreacher veritaserum. Either that or seizing him outright. And now he was being told with a gesture to enter the room and close the door.
"Ludo," Rodolphus Lestrange said cheerfully, "do you know my godson, Draco Malfoy?"
"We've met," Bagman said, sounding as cheerful as Draco felt.
"I do believe he is the solution to our mutual problem."
"Him? He has the most, um, unsavory reputation in the school."
"Exactly. And no one would suspect he had any help."
"And how do you suggest we get him to agree."
"Bribery? Draco would love to come into a large sum of money. And you were going to offer half to me."
Bagman paused. It was evident he was trying to think something through. Finally, a thin smile crossed his lips. "The question is: Can we trust him?"
"Considering the amount of money we're talking about, I would trust a jarvey to give me a compliment."
"Professor," Draco interrupted. He was trying to think of the right question to ask. "How much money are we talking about?"
Rodolphus gave Bagman a victorious smile. "One Thousand Galleons, plus half of the wager, which is a considerable sum in itself. Your share would be 2000."
"Expenses first," Bagman added, hastily. "I have a few debts to take care of."
Draco's forced smile was becoming real. " One Thousand, and . . ." he was looking at Bagman, "how much more?"
"At least another Thousand," Bagman said, hopefully.
Draco held out his hand. "I think we jus' became frien's."
As Bagman shook his hand, the man turned to Professor Lestrange. "And he doesn't even know what we want him to do."
Draco was given a seat and a cup of tea. Once he was settled in, his godfather proceeded to explain. Ludovic Bagman had a small problem. He was accepting wagers on the World Quidditch Cup Match and ended up with the worst possible results. He now owed three or four thousand Galleons to various people. The result was that he needed a "sure thing" that he could bet on.
As for Professor Lestrange, he was looking for a way to publicly embarrass the Minister for Magic without making it obvious that he was the one doing it. A casual conversation with an old acquaintance led to a business meeting of sorts. They had agreed that they both would benefit if they manipulated a very public contest. The Tri-Wizard Tournament. The major requirement was that the student they chose should not be eligible under the rules.
Their initial thoughts were to pick someone but not let them know. Potter was the first choice but they both agreed he was too much of a hothead. Longbottom was also considered, but he was, in the Professor's opinion, too decent. He might deliberately lose because he was not a legitimate contender.
"You planned this," Bagman said suddenly. He turned to Draco. "I dare you to tell me your appearance wasn't planned."
"Din't know anythin' about this," Draco said honestly. "I was coming by to ask Uncle Rodolphus about . . . something personal."
Bagman smirked. He didn't really care. All he wanted to do was win a large bet any way possible.
"You see, Ludo," Rodolphus was still smiling, "Draco has a reputation that won't die. Most of the students would expect him to do something like this. No one, that is no student, will be surprised when his name appears out of the Goblet of Fire. And the Minister, hopefully, will be furious. So furious that he will never think that Draco had any help."
Draco's look resulted in more explanations. The Goblet of Fire was a charmed cup. All potential contestants would put their names and their school on pieces of parchment and place them in the goblet. When the time came, the goblet would release one name for each school entered. Three schools. Three contestants. If a fourth school is written, that changed things. Four Schools. Four contestants. "Only if you agree, Draco."
"What school do I represent? If I'm doing this on my own, they'll expect me to know."
"Amazing boy," Bagman said with appreciation. "I would never have thought to share that bit of information. I like the way you think, Mister Malfoy."
Draco returned the smile. "And I like money, Mister Bagman. So, what school do I represent?"
"The Salem Witches Institute."
"A girl's school?"
"What's the matter, Draco," Rodolphus said with mock sympathy. "Don't you like girls?" He then laughed as Draco blushed.
"It's a flaw in the spell," Bagman bragged. "The cup knows when a fake school is listed. It also knows not to acknowledge any other schools. The marvelous thing about this is that the list of schools was last updated some 350 years ago. The Salem Witches Institute, which is a qualified school, was founded shortly after that. It was, somehow, missed when I drew up the new list of new schools to ignore."
Draco shook his head. "Don't sound right. Should have charmed it just for those three schools."
"The flaw," Bagman reminded him. "The charm was complicated enough. If they did it your way, they would have to cancel the spell on the old cup and start from scratch. This way, had they ever decided to add a school to the tournament, they only had to remove a name from the list."
"Or not put it on the list in the first place," Professor Lestrange added.
"Yeah." To Draco, the whole thing sounded wrong, but he wouldn't argue the point. He could get his name in by claiming he went to a different school. "And I just walk up and put my name in?"
"Probably not," Bagman said. "We'll have to see what Dumbledore does to keep unqualified students from entering."
Draco nodded. "I'm in. Already told people I was going to enter. Thanks for helping me."
The surprise on Bagman's face was sheer delight for Draco.
After a few more words, mostly about keeping things secret, Bagman excused himself so that Godfather and Godson could have their personal chat.
"And what is your 'personal' reason for coming here?"
"I let slip to Hermione about you and your brother meeting in the woods last year. I told her I'd have to let Dumbledore know I screwed up."
Rodolphus's smile wavered at the end of the first sentence but was back in full force by the end of the next sentence. "I can speak for Dumbledore. You should never have told her and the best thing she can do is help make sure you don't make the same mistake again. The problem is solved." A pause. "I take it there is something else?"
"Yeah," Draco said carefully. He was about to convince his godfather his was completely barmy. "I . . ." Now he couldn't think of how to ask his question. "Can I rob something from your vault in Gringott's."
Rodolphus Lestrange stared in surprise. "Anything in particular?"
It was Draco's turn. He was willing to bet that Uncle Rodolphus knew exactly what he was talking about. "Um."
After a hesitant start, Draco explained how he came to meet Sirius Black's friend, about how Casper had a big mouth, and how they wanted Draco to think of ways to steal the cup of Helga Hufflepuff. His godfather never lost his smile, even when he agreed about Casper.
"And you want to test your plan to see if it will work?"
"Yes. No. I don't want to make a plan in case it does work, because . . ."
While the smile never wavered, a strange look came on his godfather's face. "You actually have some feelings for a sadistic old bastard like me?"
What neither mentioned was the bond between them. Rodolphus Lestrange would do anything to protect his godson. Anything.
"You're my mentor," Draco drawled.
"Then you have my permission. But you must be sure of your plan. Anyone can tell you that getting inside Gringotts is easy. It is getting out that is the problem."
"I learned that when I was still in knickers. Never go in unless you know how to get out. Truth is, I don't even know how I'm going to get in."
Sunday morning. Standing before a portrait with a flower box in front of it.
"Honestly, Draco. Sometimes you are too much like Regulus. Whatever are you thinking of."
"Sorry, Walburga. It's just . . . I was thinking about my vault in Gringotts. I was wondering how I could get there without, you know, walking through the front door."
The portrait of Walburga Black smiled at him. "Sometimes I forget what a deprived childhood you had, Draco. Being forced to associate with muggles on a daily basis. (I know it has affected your choice of friends but I forgive you for that.) If you need to put something in your vault for storage, simply have Kreacher take it there for you. I never visited my vault in person unless I specifically wanted to take something out of it."
Draco couldn't help but be surprised. "Kreacher can get to my vault and out again?"
"It's called apparating, dear."
"But I was told you can't apparate out of Gringotts."
"And you can't apparate at all in Hogwarts." Walburga was smiling as Draco understood. "House elves are not limited by certain forms of magic."
"Brilliant," Draco answered. His complicated plan to rob a bank became a simple scheme. He took a deep breath and relaxed, nodding his head when Walburga asked to try playing her song again. Concentrating on his music, and not hitting the wrong notes too much, he made his third attempt to play the Anthem of the Appleby Archers.
"Fly straight, fly straight, fly sure and true/ Make all Appleby proud of you . . ."
Draco knew his plan would work. It was very simple. Kreacher knew where the Lestrange vault was. He had been sent there on several occasions at Bellatrix's orders. The house elf also warned Draco of the curse on the vault. Unless the correct charm was used, anything touched would multiply tenfold. And each piece, original and duplicates, would become flaming hot. Kreacher could cast the charm but only if he had permission.
Draco smiled. He assured Kreacher that he did have permission. There was still time before the evening meal. He suggested they go now. A smug Draco shoved a cup into the pocket of his robes and took Kreacher's hand. In ten minutes or less, he would be back at Hogwarts with the real cup in his hand. Kreacher took a curious step and both disappeared from the now empty dorm room.
"Master must stand still," Kreacher warned as they arrived in darkness. The elf then said something too softly for Draco to hear, but it must have worked. A soft glow filled the vault, enough to see by. And Draco noticed his hand almost touching a stack of coins. Had he even moved a muscle, there would have been dozens of Galleons, all hot enough to burn, filling up the chamber they were in.
"Is it safe to touch?"
"Only that which Master has permission to touch."
With a nod of his head, he looked up at the shelves. One of them had several cups and goblets on them. Including the cup he was looking for. Careful not to touch anything else, he walked over and gingerly picked up the cup. He paused only long enough to make sure nothing was going to happen. Satisfied it was safe, the cup switched places in his pocket with its duplicate. The duplicate was then sat on the shelf. Draco gave a satisfied smirk.
"Kreacher, take me back to Hogwarts now."
Silence. Then a soft turn. "Kreacher cannot take Master back to Hogwarts. Kreacher can only take Master out of the vault."
And Draco remembered. He had asked about getting into the vault and getting out of it. He did not ask about getting out of the bank. He would have to sneak out. And he would need a good story if he was caught.
His decision was made. Get out of the vault, first. Think of a good alibi on the way out of the bank.
"Then take me out of the vault."
"The dragon, Master," Kreacher said with concern. "It is outside the vault."
"That is not a problem. I already know what to do with the dragon. I did plan." Draco smiled and Kreacher relaxed. The last thing he wanted was for the elf to realize that Draco had no plan. Kreacher would panic and ruin everything. Worse than that, he would probably blame himself. That was one thing Draco did not want to deal with.
"And don't forget. Once I'm out of the vault, go back to Hogwarts. And DON'T tell anyone. I may not be back right away. Got friends in London."
"Master knows how to get out of Gringotts?"
"Getting out is not the problem," Draco lied "Only getting out of the vault. That's why I needed you."
Kreacher nodded, impressed by his master's calmness. He took Draco's hand, took that curious step, then said goodbye. Draco was alone. At least he was outside the vault.
A soft rumble behind him caused Draco to turn. In the dim light that seemed to fill the cavern lined with vaults, the dragon came into view. It was a huge black dragon. At least a dozen times bigger than Draco was.
And Draco was prepared. He waved his wand and said, as softly as possible, "Expecto Patronum."
A glowing white dragonette appeared and, as Draco had practiced, settled over him like a ghostly apparition. As though in a fog, he watched as the dragon focused on him. As he watched, the dragon watched him in return. It only watched. Which made Draco nervous. Which made Draco lose control over the spell. The patronus vanished as his concentration faltered. The dragon could now see him clearly. As a human being. There was no disguise, anymore.
Frozen in fear, Draco stood there as the dragon leaned forward to get a better look. It stopped only meters away and stared for a bit, then turned away with a low moan.
"Whot the?" he muttered. He remembered Norbert. The dark eyes that seemed to have fire in them. The eyes that were briefly in front of him had none of that. They appeared worn and tired. There was grungy stuff around the eyes, like someone sick would have.
A sound of metal. The dragon had moved a leg. The sound was the rattle of the chain that bound the leg to the floor of the pit it was in. It was an easy task to look at the other limbs. Chains were attached to them. And there was a metal collar. The dragon could move. Just not very far.
It was almost funny. The mighty dragon wasn't mighty at all. If anything, it acted like a dog that had been beaten for too long. It wouldn't stop Draco from leaving. And that meant that all he had to do was walk out. It would be a long walk but, if he was lucky in his guess, the traps wouldn't do anything if he left well enough alone.
He turned from the dragon and looked at the waterfall. He might get wet but that should be the worst part of it. All he had to do now was walk away.
All he had to do was walk away.
That was all he had to do.
"LET ME OUT."
The cry came from the vault next to him.
"LET ME OUT"
It was followed by someone banging on a wooden door.
"LET ME OUT."
Draco reached for the handle on the door and opened it. It was a cupboard. From the slant of the ceiling, it looked like it was under a staircase. There, kneeling on the floor with his back to Draco, was a small boy, perhaps four or five. Unkempt blond hair. Filthy clothes that did not fit. He was banging on a door.
"PLEASE. PLEASE. I'LL BE GOOD. I PROMISE."
The boy was leaning his head against the door, crying.
Draco didn't know why he did it, but he leaned into the cupboard. He put his hand on the door on the other side. He gently pushed the door open.
The boy straightened up. He cautiously called out, "Thank you."
The boy turned around. Draco recognized him. He couldn't help but recognize him. The boy was himself. The boy smiled.
"I let myself out. I never knew I could do that."
The boy changed. He grew a few years older and his hair turned black. He curled into a ball as flames grew around him. The door flew completely open and Miss Carmichael was there. She grabbed Ritchie and began dragging him out. As smoke filled the room, she looked at Draco.
"He also knows what it's like to live in a cage."
A wall of fire shot up between them. Then it went dark. Draco was staring at the Lestrange vault as though something else was there. He remembered something he never knew he had forgotten. He remembered how it felt to live under the stairs.
He reached into his robes for the cup. This was the reason he came but the cup was worthless to him. It no longer had meaning. In anger, he threw it as hard as he could in the direction of the waterfall. It clanged a few times as it bounced to a halt. Draco didn't care. He had his wand out.
"ALOHAMORA."
With all the strength he could muster, he cast the charm to unlock the chain around the nearest leg. The dragon suddenly roared as it was able to move its limb freely. And alarms went off. There would be no quiet escape. Draco didn't care. He continued to cast the spell, releasing chain after chain. The dragon would be freed if he had to drag it out of Gringotts all by himself.
As the last chain dropped off, a dozen goblins came through the waterfall. One of them was shaking a metal contraption that gave a cacophony of noise. Others were shouting and pointing at Draco. One of them saw the cup that had been thrown away and picked it up. He took it to the man next to the one with the noisemaker.
And the dragon. The dragon roared. The goblin with the contraption made even more noise with it. It may have worked before but now it only filled the beast with anger. It let out a roar followed by flame. Half the goblins caught fire, including the one with the noisemaker.
A thump. Something hit Draco's mental shield. It may have been coincidence but he instantly looked at the goblin who had picked up the cup. His sleeve was on fire and he was rolling the cup over it to help smother the flame.
Apparently the dragon felt it, too. It flamed again. Directly at the cup holder. Its flame was hotter this time, and lasted longer. When it finally stopped, there was nothing left but scorched earth and ashes.
Draco was in shock. He had just seen twelve goblins die. Burned alive. Fresh memories made that sight too painful. It was the unexpected that brought him back to the rear world.
The dragon, free at last and rid of its tormentors, grabbed Draco with its taloned claw and pulled him to its chest. It then launched itself upward. For what seemed forever, all Draco could hear was the sound of walls being smashed as the dragon literally broke its way out. There was a triumphant cry after the last wall or ceiling or whatever. Then they were free and flying through the London skies.
