The Unbreakable Vow

by

Ash Darklighter

It all belongs to JK Rowling and I thank her for her inspiration – There are no galleons to be made from me. This little story is my first Harry Potter fic. It is AU and of course comments are welcome. My thanks to Tad and Mona for their help.

Part 10

Harry hated Grimmauld Place but it was the one place in London that he could go where he was relatively safe behind its gloomy façade. It belonged to him now that Sirius was gone but he still continued to let the Order use it for meetings. Voldemort's disappearance was only temporary and once they realised this, there were always his disgruntled supporters to think about. He still needed somewhere they couldn't touch him. They would be throwing all their expertise and resources into resurrecting the Dark Lord. "Dobby!" he called dumping his rucksack on the kitchen table. "Dobby!"

"Harry Potter, Sir."

Harry grinned. He knew that the faithful little house elf would have followed him to Grimmauld Place. "I need you to take a message to Miss Weasley - she's at The Burrow. But you mustn't be seen." He pulled out a piece of parchment and scribbled a quick message. Hedwig, in her snowy magnificence, was too distinctive to use.

"Dobby can do that, Sir," squeaked the elf, accepted the folded piece of parchment and with a loud crack, vanished. He was back moments later.

"Thank you, Dobby. Did she get the note?"

"Dobby is happy to help Harry Potter, sir. Miss Wheezy was very pleased to see Dobby."

Harry glanced at the clock. He still had time to get to Gringotts. They wouldn't act without him appearing personally. "There's an Order of the Phoenix meeting here tonight, Dobby," Harry said. "Do you think you could make supper?"

"Dobby would be delighted."

Harry smiled warmly at the little elf. "I'm going to nip out for a while. I need to get some things in Diagon Alley."

"Dobby will have everything ready."

Harry smiled, grabbed his invisibility cloak with one hand and some floo powder with the other, pulled the cloak over his head and stepped into the fire. "The Leaky Cauldron!" he enunciated clearly. He didn't fancy a trip to Knockturn Alley this time. In his defence, it had been the first time that he'd used floo powder. He'd never made that mistake again.

If anyone thought it strange that the floo in the Leaky Cauldron activated and no one appeared there was nothing said or done about it. The pub was fairly empty but that didn't surprise Harry. Since Voldemort had returned, people were frightened and didn't linger long away from the safety of their homes. He followed a nervous looking witch to the back courtyard, waiting as she tapped the bricks revealing the entrance into Diagon Alley.

The return of Voldemort had been hard on the wizarding community and for the shopkeepers in Diagon Alley in particular. Witches and wizards were wary of congregating in large numbers in any public places, especially when random Death Eater raids occurred on a frequent basis. Several of the shops were boarded up and the whole scene was worlds away from Harry's first joyous glimpse of this strange new magical world seven years ago. Fear was a powerful emotion and the Dark Lord played upon that very cleverly.

Following the witch along the street, he had to smile when she dashed into Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Fred and George were right, Harry decided as he quickly made his way towards the skewed magnificence of Gringotts. People need to laugh more than ever during darker times.

Reaching the entrance to the bank without incident, he moved behind a pillar and pulled off the invisibility cloak, stuffing it into his rucksack. The goblin-run bank had been the first truly grand building he'd entered as a wizard and its splendour had always impressed him but today it meant nothing. Keeping his head down, he entered the building, ignoring the beautiful marble flooring, gilt decoration and stunning chandeliers, and kept walking until he arrived at the information goblin at the desk.

"I need to see Griphook," he hissed quietly. "It's about the other matter – the private matter. I contacted him by owl a couple of days ago."

"Of course, Harry Potter," the goblin said in a low voice. "Your owl brought a request detailing your wishes with regards to part of your bequest from the will of the late Sirius Black."

"Yes." Harry looked up quickly and then glanced to his left. A goblin had appeared next to him with the swiftness of apparition. "Griphook?"

The goblin inclined his head. "This way, Mr. Potter." Harry followed the goblin into a small office where Griphook motioned the young wizard to a chair. "Please sit. We will not be overheard here."

"Good." Harry clasped his hands tightly together. "Sirius spoke to you about this?"

"Your probable need to leave the wizarding world for a short period of time and the secrecy needed? Yes. Your godfather and I did discuss this before his most unexpected and unfortunate death." The goblin inclined his head. "But this is sooner than was proposed."

"It is." Harry shrugged. "But there's nothing I can do about that. Unfortunately, things have moved well out of my control."

"Two properties were purchased early last year on your behalf, Mr. Potter."

"Two!" Harry echoed. "Why would I need two?"

"Mr. Black indicated that whatever may happen to him, we were to go ahead with this. You retain control of Grimmauld Place and the various Potter inheritances but as I mentioned, two properties were purchased by Muggle methods."

"And no one apart from you and Sirius knew?" Harry asked anxiously. "Dumbledore wasn't informed or anything?"

"He was not. Sirius Black was most insistent that this be kept from everyone. Only Mr. Black and you, Mr. Potter were to be notified."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. I would like it kept that way."

Griphook slid a dark blue folder bearing the Gringotts seal across the desk to Harry. "The details," he intoned solemnly.

Carefully Harry broke the seal and opened the folder and two glossy property schedules slipped out. "It's a flat," he said stupidly.

"In Muggle London as requested," Griphook said.

Harry read the particulars and scanned the still Muggle photographs with interest. "It's furnished?"

"Two bedrooms, fully furnished with something called gas central heating. Security entrance…"

Harry glanced at the address. "It's only minutes from the Leaky Cauldron," he interrupted the goblin anxiously. "Wouldn't that be too close?"

"Mr. Black felt that a close location to the magical world might provide a good cover. It's on the cusp, so to speak. Close enough to mask any magical signatures but outside the magical barrier into Muggle London itself. Wizards, like Muggles, do not always see what is directly under their noses."

"What about the second property?" Harry asked anxiously, hands already opening the schedule. He gave a soft gasp, his eyes drinking in the image of a dilapidated house surrounded by trees. "This one's in Scotland?" he queried softly, lifting his head to glance at the goblin.

"About three or four hours flying from Hogwarts, I believe. It may take longer if Muggle transport is involved."

Harry tried to do the calculations in his head. "Where exactly is it?" he asked.

"Upper Speyside…distillery country," commented Griphook. "The area is known for the brewing of a superior brand of single malt firewhisky." The goblin smiled. "The second property is more of a renovation project. That, I believe is another Muggle term."

"It looks perfect," Harry said staring at the picture of the house. It was a two-storey cottage and what must have been a couple of barns attached forming three sides of a square around a central courtyard. "Twenty minutes from the nearest town, set in five acres of land," he read softly. "Yes," he repeated. "Perfect."

His Aunt Petunia had enjoyed watching television programmes where people did up old neglected houses. Ginny would love it and, more importantly, she would be safe. They would move to the flat for the first few months while they both adjusted to hiding in the Muggle world and then perhaps move to the house in Scotland once it was ready for habitation.

He scanned the photographs carefully. He'd spent so much time at the Dursleys acting as a sort of unofficial handyman he thought he could do something with it. "I could do some of the work myself but…" He paused as he read more information. "There's a lot there that I wouldn't be confident or comfortable attempting - electrics and plumbing mainly." He glanced at Griphook. "Could you find me an architect and the necessary tradesmen to make the building habitable?"

"Already done, Mr. Potter." Griphook snapped his fingers and another blue folder appeared on the desk. "There are several designs from several renowned Scottish architects. None of them are from the wizarding world. Our agents are very discreet. If you want wizarding features…"

Harry blinked. Goblin efficiency was impressive. He hadn't even known there was such a thing as a wizarding architect. "I don't require wizarding features at the moment, thank you." He didn't want to draw unwelcome attention to himself and Ginny. They had to live as Muggles as best they could. "Maybe one day…"

"You'll be the secret keeper yourself, Mr. Potter? I would suggest the Fidelius Charm."

The Fidelius charm. Harry blinked again, as the words conjured up the past and the parents who had been betrayed. "Yes." He didn't want to place the heavy burden of such secrecy on anyone. It wasn't that he didn't trust them; he didn't want them to have to deal with the responsibility. However, there was a problem with the Fidelius charm. Harry didn't think he would be able to perform it.

"Is there anything else, Mr. Potter?" Griphook pushed several sets of keys across the desk along with various pieces of parchment to sign.

Harry took a moment to check the documents and then dipped the eagle owl quill into the ink ready to sign his name at the bottom of each. "Yes. I need to make sure that I have a steady monthly income available to me through the muggle banks. It may not be possible for me to access my Gringotts vaults for some time. I am planning to find employment but it might not be so easy to start with."

The goblin bared uneven, yellowing teeth in what Harry supposed was a smile and pushed several more pieces of parchment across the desk. "All taken care of."

Harry's mouth dropped open. "Goodness," he managed to utter softly.

"You are not the first wizard we have helped into hiding and you will not be the last - not during these troubled times. You are a valuable customer, Mr. Potter. We want to keep it that way." Griphook reached behind him and passed Harry a small box. "We took the liberty of altering your name."

"Of course," said Harry, feeling a little stupid. But he guessed that he couldn't exactly go into hiding as Harry Potter. Death Eaters weren't that dim.

"This contains all your personal identification documents. Passport, driving license, bank cards…"

Harry turned the tiny key and opened the box. "Mr. Gary Peters," he said aloud with a faint frown. Picking up the passport, he flicked though the empty pages until he came to the one with his new name and photograph. "Gary Peters," he repeated. It felt strange. Strange and yet similar. It was only a couple of letters away from his own name, which would make it easier to adjust to and yet, it felt worlds away.

"If you decide to change your appearance, which I would suggest, the pictures on the identity cards will change to match the way you look."

Harry took a careful breath. "It's likely that I won't be travelling alone. Would it be possible to have similar things issued to someone else?"

Griphook stared at Harry, a knowing look in his beady little eyes, and the young man squirmed. "Would this be the Weasley daughter?" the goblin enquired cautiously. "The betrothed of the Malfoy heir?"

Harry hesitated. "What makes you think that?" he asked. How had the goblin known? He would have to deny it.

Griphook sat back in his chair, steepling long spindly fingers in front of him, and assessed the young wizard sitting on the opposite side of the desk. "Anything said between us is confidential, Mr. Potter. I cannot repeat it to any of my colleagues outside of this room owing to the wards. We goblins prefer to remain neutral but we are not unaware of things happening outside Gringotts. The Weasley daughter had no choice in the betrothal."

"None at all."

"She is unwilling?" Griphook enquired delicately, his uneven pointed teeth bared in a smile.

"Very…but…"

"The Malfoys have much gold and goblin-made treasures in their vaults but we goblins do not approve of their treatment of non-humans. The Weasley daughter is noted to be powerful in her magics and would aid you in the task ahead?"

"Yes…but…"

"Then we may possibly be persuaded to help." Griphook sat back and waited for Harry to react.

"Help…how?" Harry was stunned. He hadn't expected this level of help from the goblins. They preferred to focus only on finance and guard their neutrality but they obviously knew far more than they were letting on. "I just want her to be safe," he mumbled. "That's all."

"Has she accepted the marriage?" the goblin asked.

"Of course she hasn't," Harry snapped. "I told you…"

"You misunderstand my meaning," Griphook returned. "Is there a written magical contract?"

Harry felt foolish but he was getting used to that. "Yes there is, and no she hasn't accepted anything. I wouldn't let her touch the parchment."

The goblin beamed his approval. "Well done, Mr. Potter. Some contracts do function that way."

"How do you know?" asked Harry.

"By looking at it." Griphook pushed another box across the desk. "This is for the Weasley daughter."

Stunned and not a little confused by the goblin's words, Harry opened the box and inside was a set of matching documents to the ones that Harry had. "Jennifer Weston," he murmured. "Jenny… it's close enough." He glanced across the table at Griphook. "No one else knows about this?"

"It's a logical guess that you may try to hide in the Muggle world and if we make it…others will, too."

"Then our time really is short." Harry was dismayed that they had so little time to play with. "I don't want to leave but I have to."

Griphook leaned forward. "What about He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named?" he said.

"You really cannot repeat anything I've said to anyone else outside this room?" Harry asked.

"Yes," returned Griphook politely. "The wards forbid it."

"Not even to another goblin?" Harry caught Griphook's gaze and held it.

"Not even to the leader of the Goblin Council."

"Voldemort won't be a problem," Harry declared. "Not for a while. He's been temporarily removed from his own body again."

"I see." Griphook's shoulders relaxed.

Harry shrugged. "It's not been made public yet and I'm certain that state of affairs is only temporary. It should buy us some much needed time. It could be months or with any luck a couple of years."

"And you still want to go into hiding?"

"More than ever."

"The Weasley daughter."

"Is part of my reason why." Harry grabbed the blue folders and the two small boxes and placed it into his backpack. "I'll be in touch within the next couple of days."

"Don't leave it too long, Mr. Potter, or should I call you Mr. Peters?"

Harry managed a polite smile even though his stomach felt as if it was tying itself in knots. "Mr. Potter will do for now." He left the office and made his way through the bank until he reached a marble pillar. Slipping behind it, he grabbed his invisibility cloak and threw it over his head. If any of the Order caught him without an escort he was in big trouble.

He made his way through an almost empty Diagon Alley and headed out of the Leaky Cauldron into the streets beyond. A quick glance at his watch told him he still had a little time. The flat was close enough to visit.

"Rood Lane," Harry muttered, getting out his London A-Z and leafing through it until he found the right page. The location of the flat wasn't just close to the Leaky Cauldron; it was almost on top of it. He moved past a couple of fruit and vegetable stalls, someone selling papers and magazines, a small café and what appeared to be a chemist. Risking another headache, Harry cast a subtle glamour charm on himself. His eyes changed colour, his glasses changed shape and his hair flattened itself into a completely different style.

The street was narrow but the building housing his new home was on the corner near a junction. He opened the outer door and entered into a pleasant, modern lobby with a desk for a part-time concierge. He noted a set of stairs to his left and a lift to his right.

The flat, he discovered was on the top floor. It was small but perfectly adequate for his needs and as Griphook had stated, completely furnished. He decided that Ginny should have the larger of the two bedrooms. She deserved that much and more. Thankfully, Ginny wouldn't be too disappointed at not moving to the Malfoy's Manor. He just had to ensure that there was no danger of it ever happening. It had occurred to him, that if the Malfoys found out about Voldemort's temporary removal from power, Ginny would be dragged off and immediately married to Draco. If Harry divulged what had happened during the battle in Hogsmeade three weeks ago, he would be placing her in more danger, not less.

He had a quick look in the kitchen. It had all the usual Muggle appliances. Hopefully the goblins could have it fully stocked and ready for occupation by the end of the week.

Moving into the lounge area, he seated himself and placed his backpack on the low table in front of him. Opening the blue folder with the architect's drawings, he leafed through the designs on offer. The house in Scotland could one day be a family home. Harry forced his mind away from visions of a happy family life. Voldemort had now killed most of Harry's family and his Death Eater followers were interfering with the others.

He closed his eyes and tried to visualise the designs on the page as belonging to the three-sided ramshackle building represented in the photographs. Nothing was coming. He squeezed his eyelids tightly together and reached harder for a vision.

And then he saw it. The house nestled within the trees, framed by gently sloping heather clad hills was built of greyish stone with chestnut wood surrounding the lighted windows. Somewhere, he could hear water running and a woman's voice singing. It felt like home.

He opened his eyes again and picked up of the sheets of paper. "This one," he whispered. He placed it inside the blue folder and with a pop it suddenly vanished. Goblin magic was powerful indeed.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx