CH9: They Who Dared

July 30th

5:23pm

Black Chateau, Isle of Man

Harry

The eve of his birthday Harry was granted a boon, the sky was clear and the sun was out. After a long morning planning the raid to the most minute detail, he felt a break from the uncharacteristically claustrophobic chateau was due. And so, the moment Daphne called the meeting to an end Harry made a break for the outside world. Soon enough he found himself in the forest on the eastern border of the grounds surrounded by spruces and pines.

'I'm sure Hermione said something about the types of trees, something about these ones here…' he thought idly looking at humongous spruce trees, 'how does she have space in her head to identify tree families? Surely there's more important things to memorise.'

Thinking of Hermione made him smile, it seemed like his leave of absence had proven her resilience. Not only had she carried on, but she had also taken charge and he was certain he'd seen her with Blaise one too many times to call it a coincidence.

'Good,' he concluded, 'she more than deserves it.'

"Harry."

Harry did a one-eighty and came face to face with Daphne, her eyes showing the barest hint of concern. To anyone else, she'd look like the word composure personified but he noticed the little things; dirt under her nails which he knew she hated, the laces on her boots loosely tied and the hem of her shirt was untucked out of her black jeans in some places. Still, she looked every part the leader he knew she was and every part as beautiful.

"I'm okay," he assured her, "just wanted some fresh air."

"We live in a country estate," she remarked disbelievingly, one eyebrow raised in suspicion.

"I'm not so sure," Harry countered, chuckling to himself. "May as well pitch one of the tents in that blasted room."

Daphne's suspicions were traded out for a mix of relief and exasperation. "You're not wrong," she agreed, walking past him and continuing onward. Harry caught up as she spoke, "I appreciate more the stress you felt leading up to the ambush. When you were gone, I didn't stop to consider the consequences… my mind is quieter now."

"And after the ambush we came out in a better position than we could have ever hoped, we'll be okay." He knew she heard him but he didn't get a reply of any kind and so they continued walking through the forest. One of the Black ancestors had seen fit to carve out a loosely defined path through the forest that looped back to the house, it was a good twenty minute walk though. Harry looked over again and caught her fidgeting with the string band of a necklace he recognised. "Anything come of it?"

Daphne let go of the string hastily as though she'd been caught in the act of a crime. Her surprise swiftly turned to frustration as she answered the question. "Nothing. No magical traces, inscriptions or even a symbol, for all intents and purposes, it's a regular key."

"That's… odd." The dying words of a man like Scrimgeour were not to be taken lightly, to Harry, it was very unlikely the key was inert.

"Odd is a word, so is redundant." She tucked the key back into her shirt and marched on, with a noticeable amount of frustration in her step. "What good is a key when we have no information on its accompanying lock?"

"Perhaps it's a good time to tell the rest then?" he asked as he quickened his ace to keep up with her, "Moody and Kingsley were fairly high up in the ministry."

"I know, after the raid, I want them focused."

Although Harry personally disagreed with the decision, he knew to let it slide. When he told everyone he was letting Daphne take the lead, he meant it. Part of that was respecting her choices even if he thought she was wrong. A couple days won't hurt them either so instead he turned the conversation fully to the raid.

"It's risky, we could be starting something entirely different."

"Word won't get out, the contracts ensure it."

She was, of course, talking about the magical non-disclosure agreements that they had who knew of the raid sign. They were sourced from the set that they had made the students sign just last year, however, instead of mild disfigurement as a punishment, the betrayer would be unlikely to spill any other secrets after the contract took effect.

"Fair enough."

They walked side by side in silence for a while, the evening air providing a calming sensation. Ever since Harry felt Daphne's core, he always thought of her when the sea breeze licked at his skin.

"We just crossed the ward line, I suppose now is as good a time as any."

"Sorry?"

"To teach me the spell? I don't foresee another opportunity arising before we leave."

"Sure," he replied after a brief pause. Pulling the elder wand, his wand, from the holster manually, he took aim at the sky. 'Barty Crouch Jr proves once again that he was a better teacher than most,' Harry thought. The canopy of thousand-year-old oaks and spruces seemed to give way, providing a clear view of the darkening sky. Feeling deeply revolted, he shivered as he whispered, "morsmordre."

A pale blue light expelled from the tip of his wand, barreling into the sky above. Then, in a flash of incandescent light, burst a skull of bright sinister green. From its mouth slithered a snake, its jaws open and fangs ready to strike. His frown deepened at the sight, immediately he thought 'lumos' and watched as a light fought back the symbol of his enemy until there was nothing but clouds left in the sky.

He was so focused on scrubbing the mark from the sky he hadn't noticed Daphne close the distance so that now she was standing in front of him, slightly off to the side. She brought a hand to his shoulder and looked him in the eyes. "I can practice alone."

"It's not so easy to get rid of me, besides, you'll be the one doing the casting, I'm content coaching from the side." Harry caught her hand as she moved to step away, "but thank you," he tacked on gratefully.

"Your welcome," Daphne replied matter of fact. She drew her own wand and turned it toward the sky. "What was the wand movement again?"

For the next hour they smeared the sky with Voldemort's mark until Daphne had perfected it with Harry taking great pleasure in erasing the evidence, over and over again.

July 30th

7:21pm

Black Chateau, Isle of Man

Harry

Sat at the dining table with a belly full of premium house elf cooking, Harry flipped the page in Dumbledore's journal onto a new chapter. The one previous detailed how Voldemort had derailed the ministry and had fashioned discord amongst the defenders of Britain. It had made him grateful that he hadn't had to deal with infighting like Dumbledore described, brother turning against brother, families torn apart by mistrust… he'd take a duel over that any day.

"The International Confederation of Wizards

The ICW are in large part your ally, but only in name. In policy they denounce Tom's kind, but, will they send aid to Britain? Unlikely. In Gellert's war, the ICW was incredibly hard pressed to maintain the statute of secrecy as Gellert frequently used muggles for attacks. Had Gellert contained his attacks to a country at a time, and purely magical, it is not hyperbole to say he could have ruled the world. But no, he was too hungry, too greedy and in his effort to have everything all at once, the ICW stepped in.

In the first war with Tom, they sat idle, declaring it a matter of the British Ministry. Even as giants, dragons and mercenaries flooded across the channel and the North Sea, they imposed no punishments on the countries that failed to reign in their own criminal element.

"Good read?"

Harry looked up from the journal to see Hermione standing at the end of the dining table, a mug nestled in her hands.

"As good as to be expected," Harry replied evasively. As much as he trusted his best friend, the journal had felt like it was for him and him alone. He also had no idea what Hermione thought of the previous headmaster and figured what was buried should stay that way. "Turning in soon?"

"Maybe."

Hermione joined him at the table, taking the seat opposite to him. Once she had her tea down on the table, she tucked her arms into her chest and held herself tight. It wasn't cold enough for the temperature to be the root of such an action. He flipped the book closed and focused on her, only now seeing light bags under her eyes and the slight frown set firmly on her face.

"You alright?" He didn't bother hiding his concern, giving Hermione a pointed look as if to say 'don't bother saying yes.'

"I've been having trouble sleeping," she confessed.

His first traitorous thought was a sarcastic 'who isn't these days?' but he locked that away to focus on trying to help Hermione. "I'll talk to Daphne and have someone take over for you so you can rest.

"It's not that, not entirely at least." Hermione smiled fondly before saying, "when we were at Hogwarts, even with all the rules we were breaking, I knew we were the good guys."

Seeing where Hermione was going, he couldn't help but recall the taunting of Ron in his cell. Ron…? Or a part of myself locked away by my own shame? Either way, making up for being a shite friend starts now. "And you don't know anymore?"

"We're not them but we're not us either," she argued.

'If only you knew,' he mused as he thought about the horcrux exercising its control. "Change isn't inherently a bad thing, Hermione, that's why Damien's work is so important."

"I guess." She took a tense sip from her mug. "I know you have crossed lines that the old Harry never would have. I sometimes wonder what our lives would look like if Mr Greengrass decided against allying with you."

"I'd be a lesser version of myself." Hermione frowned at his comment so he pivoted. "But that doesn't matter, there's no reason to dwell on alternate realities when we've got so much to consider in this one."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you never would've befriended Blaise, I certainly wouldn't have met Daphne. All the good we've done for the families here at the chateau would've never happened." Harry could see he was breaking through to her and that gave him relief. Hermione knew very little of the despicable things he'd done in an effort to secure victory and the fact she was still in doubt only ignited his own uncertainty.

"I understand," she "The fact that we still care about the person beside us is the reason we're still us, just a bit rougher around the edges is all."

"I know I certainly am," he joked, tapping the jagged purple scar on his face. He could see Hermione had a hard time finding that amusing so he switched tactics again. "You've got nothing to worry about Hermione, truly bad people don't worry themselves about whether what they're doing is wrong. When it comes to being just, you're the best of us."

Hermione smiled properly, got up from her chair and walked around the table. Harry knew what was next and considered if he knew any spells to magically reinforce his bones. It wouldn't have mattered, Hermione had already launched herself at him, embracing him in a fierce hug. "Thank you," she said simply and so he simply held her for as long as she needed.

July 31st

8:12am

Diagon Alley, London

Harry

The world spinning around him ground to an immediate halt and his vision was filled with the rickety, uneven buildings of Diagon Alley. Appearing at the top of the alley, Harry got a good overview of the street. Boarded up doors, shattered windows, rubble strewn over the ground, not a single thing pointed to anyone having come to the alley in some time. There certainly wasn't a single soul in sight, not a living one anyway.

"Merlin's beard!"

Tonks, who was part of his entourage along with Moody and Damien, spotted the first man. Half a dozen shops down, a man was strung up by his neck, hanged, with a sign dangling from his feet. Harry advanced and assumed his team followed. As they got closer he could make out what the sign said;

"'Tainted pure blood with dirty seed' what is going on here?" he commented, outraged. 'How was I in the dark about this? Surely we knew something…'

He saw the flash of a spell reflect off of the broken windows around him as the man's noose came undone and the body was carefully lowered to the floor. Tonks stepped past Harry and crouched down next to the body, holstering her wand to rummage through the man's pockets.

Moody's staff clacked on the cobbles as he limped forward to address Tonks, "what are you doin lass?"

"Looking for something to identify him, a photo, a letter, anything."

"Tonks," he muttered quietly, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder.

"We can't leave him here," she said her harsh and angry, "I can take him back quickly or–"

"Tonks… just stop."

Hearing the defeat in Harry's voice, Tonks stopped frantically frisking the dead man to look up at Harry. But Harry wasn't looking at her, or even the corpse at her feet, his gaze was focused solely on the street ahead. Lining the street, hanging from second floor shops, lamp posts and any elevated structure were more of the same. Men and women strung up for a perceived slight on the elitist purebloods

"Lets go, we can't… its too late for them now."

The walk down Diagon Alley was marked not only by the bodies of the people they had failed to protect, but also by the distinct look of shame on their faces for that very fact. Eyes downcast and frowns deeply set, the quartet soon found themselves in front of the towering white columns of Gringotts bank. The bank itself seemed almost out of place, the pristine white columns just didn't belong in the shuttered up alley. Nor did the newly crafted statues of Goblin warriors at the front, the expert craftsmanship of the goblin people was on display for all to see, or rather all who dared to.

"Stop there Wizard!"

Harry almost kicked himself when the 'statue' stepped forward, a long pike held in a ready-to-strike position mere inches from his neck. Even now, if Harry hadn't heard the goblin guard speak, he would say that it was a statue before him. The goblin's form was impeccable, and his ability to hold himself so still was even more incredible. "You will announce yourself before approaching."

"My name is Harry Potter," he said with his hands raised in surrender, "I'm here to talk about inheritance."

The one holding him at spear point looked back at the goblin still at the door. With an upward nod, the goblin at the door disappeared behind the large wooden doors of the bank.

"Harry?" Tonks asked hesitantly

"I'm fine, holster your wands." He needn't have eyes on the back of his head to know at the very least Tonks and Moody were ready to cast, plan be damned. 'We accounted for this, no need to panic now.'

The rustle of wands being placed back in their holsters was followed by the second guard emerging from the bank and giving the spearman a nod in return.

"Come wizard," the goblin snarled as he recalled his spear from Harry's neck. Harry and his troupe started forward but the goblin blocked his path before he could reach the door. "No, your companions must wait."

"Surely, given the current climate, they could take refuge inside whilst I conduct my dealings?" Harry asked, but he knew what the answer would be.

"No," the goblin growled, "they stay, or you walk."

"I understand," he fake-capitulated with a smile. The goblins both turned to escort him into the bank but as they did he silently turned back to his entourage and moved his palms from his chest to an outstretched 'T' meaning to spread out and find cover.

He heard more than saw them follow his command as he followed the goblins through the doors. The first instance of the "Thief's Downfall" ward washed over him. What they learned from Rookwood's intelligence, or rather the ministry's, was that the Goblin's employed the use of the ward at every major checkpoint. The front door, the door down to the vaults and then on the railway down to the ancient vaults, just to be sure.

'It is no wonder it was considered impossible to steal from Gringotts, but if Voldemort managed it, I'm sure we can too.'

The bank inside hadn't changed a bit, goblins still sat at their tall desks counting high stacks of golden galleons. The goblins leading him to the front desk didn't react as their colleagues muttered and murmured as Harry passed them by. He didn't understand any of the gobbledygook but he knew his own name when he heard it, and he knew the inflection of surprise.

'They probably think I'm stupid,' and as he thought about it some more, voluntarily going into a stronghold held by a populace of unknown allegiance wasn't exactly what he'd call intelligent. 'Calculated risk I think Daphne called it… wait isn't all risk calculable?'

"Mr Potter, heir to the Black estate, of which you are here to discuss I presume?"

The banker at the concession desk seemed annoyed to see him, just as the one he met on his first trip to Gringotts did.

'Perhaps it's part of the job,' he figured before replying, "correct."

"I was not aware of Lord Sirius Orion Black's death," the goblin remarked in a tone Harry recognised as patronisation.

"He's alive, however, you know as well as I do that my coming of age entitles me to certain privileges."'

The goblin at the desk looked to his left towards the guards that had escorted him in earlier. From behind the counter too, an ornate wooden door swung open and two guards burst into the commerce hall. Their shiny armour clanked loudly as they advanced from the door to Harry's left.

"Mr Potter, these goblins will take you to your vault," the goblin asserted in a faux polite tone, "please follow them."

Harry looked at the four guards surrounding him before giving the banker a serious look. "Are you sure you want to play this game?"

"We're all playing the game, Mr Potter, the trick, is not to lose."

Spears pointed at the ceiling were now pointed at him, each of the guards inching further around him on both sides. Encircled, Harry knew drawing his wand would be suicide, he'd be run through faster than he could think. He took a step backwards and raised his hands once again in surrender. Once more the wand in his wrist holster was raging at him, personally insulted he would choose to surrender. Of course, that wasn't his plan at all, drowning out the pure rage of the wand he focused inwards and sought the power that coursed through his veins. 'Well,' he thought regrettably, 'maybe next time.'

A muffled shout outside broke his concentration, instinctively he turned side on and watched the front door. Nothing happened for a moment, not even a sound. Then, suddenly, the doorway for the premiere bank in the Wizarding World exploded inward. The explosion rocked the commerce hall, so much so that two of the guards fell to the floor when they failed to keep their balance. Their clumsiness was a non-issue in his eyes because following the explosion was a surge of men and women in black cloaks.

Dust and debris settled in the air as the sound of coins clinked off of the ornate tiles of the hall floor. The group of people who entered the hall fanned out with their wands raised, each of them had their faces covered by intricate white masks, all tied together by the primary theme of a skull. They were death eaters to everyone but a few dozen in the know and sure enough there were acting like it.

"It's Potter! Get him!" a male voice shouted, followed by a jeering cheer from his comrades.

The first spell cast was a blood orange hue racing at him from a female death eater who had taken point. 'Blood boiling? What are you up to?' Harry could see the curse wasn't going to him, instead it would pass over his right shoulder, but it would hit any unlucky goblin behind him. 'Dammit.'

He stepped in front of the curse and raised a wandless shield, praying that it would hold.

The curse splashed against his shield, dissolving without a fuss. 'Underpowered, all part of the act, I should've known.' Harry looked behind him and saw the guards that had been threatening him had abandoned that course of action, instead they were helping the accountants escape the fighting. 'Right then,' he regarded the group of cloaked fighters in front of him and drew his wand, 'let's make this believable.'

Author's Note

Okay, story time:

I began this chapter several months ago and those months have been some of the most hectic I can remember ever living. First off, I moved house about an hour away from where I was staying before which meant many long drives. Not only that, but my partner and I were constantly driving all over the state to get new furniture (gumtree and FB marketplace are great if you're on a budget). But that took a lot of my energy, me and a couple of my mates did all of the furniture moving which also laid me out physically.

On top of that, normal life stuff (normal if you're a maniac like myself and do full time work and university simultaneously) was uncharacteristically busy. Exams, huge work projects, flights out of state for conferences or simply heaps of meetings.

After all that, my desire to sit down and write for a few hours was at an all time low. I didn't dread finishing it, in fact I was more disappointed in myself for not being able to just push through it but whenever I tried the quality was so poor.

So, I waited, until I had the energy and passion back, to finish this chapter and move on to the next. That being said, I do apologise for not being active, the story is still alive and will remain so… unless I die which at that point I've got bigger concerns than a few disappointed readers to be fair.

Reflection:

The first POV is about keeping the key in y'all's mind and also providing a reason as to why no one knows about it up until now. Also, I wanted to show that there was no bad blood between Harry and Daphne in terms of the leadership switch and how Harry embraces the support role.

Second POV is all about self reflection and establishing Hermione as the moral anchor of the loyalists. Harry has been a bad friend to Hermione, straight up. He wasn't really there for her in book two as she struggled with Ron's death and 'Ron' called him out on that. Bringing that shame to life through Ron was also another coping mechanism that Harry's subconscious used until he was finally able to recognise that he was the one accountable. The line "we're not them, but we're not us" was the basis for this part.

Third POV is kicking off the heist. Like I've stated before, with Harry's threat level increased, Voldemort's campaign has to be more violent. In canon, he's proven to be paranoid and extremely violent to those he believes have betrayed him/are unworthy. With Harry's escape, he's scared, so he lashes out in a way he knows would affect Harry.

The goblins themselves I'm excited to write about, the underuse of the other sentient races in JKR's verse was criminal. Vampires, Goblins, Elves, Centaurs…. the list goes on and they all have a stake in the war. Won't say much because I've got plans but they're not just going to be massacred in some vision that's for sure.

Alright, now the shameless plug. Website will be updated this coming week in line with the raid, go check it out if you haven't already.

Link: revanchistvii .myportfolio .com (no spaces)

Hope y'all enjoyed!