"NO!" Fleur snapped.
Bill stared at her, frozen to the spot in the kitchen where he'd been charming plates to set the dinner table. Across the room, Luna and Dean, who'd also been helping get things ready for dinner, also stopped what they were doing and looked on rather alarmed.
It was hard not to be when Fleur was holding a very large, very sharp, knife in her hand.
"Everything alright?" asked Ron, who with Harry in tow, had materialized at the entrance to the kitchen after hearing the commotion.
Fleur's mouth was set in a hard line, her eyes now on Bill. She did eventually look away, seemingly realizing that her outburst had garnered attention. It caused her to lower her knife back to the cutting board she'd been previously using it on.
Bill knew she was trying to collect herself, so it was him who turned to his brother and said, "It's…don't worry about it."
He then moved across the room toward Fleur, slowly and cautiously. All around the room, everyone was awkwardly returning to their tasks—if not without sharing a few quick glances with each other—but Bill focused his energy on his wife.
His very stressed wife.
It had been a few weeks since the arrival of all of their guests; since they'd properly gone into hiding. They'd all been sharing a crowded cottage and close quarters, and he'd been the only one to even venture out of the house since that night. Not that he'd left in ages at this point, but Fleur hadn't left since the night everyone arrived. She'd been running this house, taking care of injuries and meals, and making sure things functioned properly. She was holding all of this together.
But even she had her breaking point. And apparently, that point had come after Griphook, once again, demanded that he be served meals in his bedroom.
There was no reason for it. Griphook had healed up as well as any of the rest of them had. Dean's bruises and scratches were practically gone; Hermione was showing no residual damage from her attack; Luna was much healthier and brighter looking; Ron and Harry looked as if they again had life in them after some proper rest and food.
The only one still on the mend was Ollivander, but even he was looking better by the day. He'd put on weight and much of his color was back. He was still quite frail and delicate, finding it hard to get around without assistance, but he no longer looked like an emaciated corpse.
But Griphook was fine. His legs had healed; he was moving about on his own, even if he rarely came downstairs. Still, Bill had seen him get up and down to move from the room he shared with Ollivander to retreat to the smaller bedroom that Hermione and Luna shared. It was there that he, Harry, Ron, and Hermione disappeared everyday for hours at a time to…
Well, no one knew what they were doing, but they were up to something. Whatever answers Harry had hoped to get from Griphook, he'd got them. It seemed he was getting them more and more everyday because the goblin had become a working part of whatever they were planning.
It was odd—but Bill found himself often torn as to whether it was a good and a bad thing. It was good because it kept Griphook occupied and out of his hair. It was bad because Bill couldn't conceive a situation in which Griphook would prove to be useful to Harry and this fight without it coming with a price. Griphook had never been helpful out of the goodness of his heart. He always had something to gain.
But at what cost?
But that aside, as Fleur frequently pointed out, if he was well enough to help Harry every day, he was well enough to not be waited on hand and foot. She was tired of it, as she'd just exhibited in her outburst moments before. Once Luna had entered the kitchen after visiting with Ollivander, relaying the message that Griphook would like his dinner taken up to him now.
"Hey," Bill said quietly once he was close to Fleur, his hand on her back.
"I will not do it," she said, not looking at him as she charmed the knife to again chop onions. "I will not be at 'is beck and call any longer. 'E iz 'ealed. 'E iz fine. If 'e wants food, 'e will come downstairs like everyone else to get it. Ozerwize, 'e does not eat."
She turned to look at him, daring him to challenge her before adding, "We are not 'is servants."
He let himself nod affirmatively. Of course he agreed with her, but he also wasn't exactly keen on now having to spend mealtimes with Griphook. He'd rather liked being able to keep his distance when possible.
But not at the expense of Fleur's sanity.
"Alright," he said, glancing behind him to see that everyone else was watching, though—other than Ron—they all looked away the moment Bill had turned. Ron appeared a bit concerned, seemingly unsure whether he should be reacting in some particular way.
Bill waved him off, looking back at Fleur. "So, you want me to go and tell him—?"
"Yes."
"Right."
He made to leave, again catching Ron's concerned eye and silently signaling that it was fine. He'd take care of it. Get back to whatever it was you were doing.
Harry and Hermione, who were nearby, also seemed cautiously concerned, but Bill ignored them all as he went upstairs and headed straight to the bedroom where Ollivander and Griphook were. They were both awake and alert when he entered—Ollivander reading a book and Griphook staring out the window.
Griphook turned to look at him, frowning as soon as he saw him.
"I would have thought you would have our dinners."
"Right, about that," Bill said. "We've decided that you're well enough to come down and eat with the rest of us."
Ollivander looked up, curious; Griphook sneered, gesturing to Ollivander. "He can barely walk. How do you expect him to make it downstairs?"
"Oh no, I didn't mean him," Bill said, looking at Ollivander. "He can rest and we'll have his food up shortly. I just meant you.
The sneer remained on Griphook's face. "I do not wish to come down and eat with the others. I'll take my meal here, just as he is."
"Well, that's no longer an option," Bill said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Your legs have mended, so there's no reason for you to not join us downstairs."
"But I have told you I have no desire to join you downstairs."
"Right, but I have no desire to bring your food up anymore."
Griphook looked as if he didn't understand why this was his problem. "Then make that wife of yours do it."
Bill let himself laugh humorlessly at that, imagining Fleur's face if he relayed that message to her. He'd have to be sure that no kitchen knives were anywhere within reach.
"Right, that's not going to happen either. And for your own sake, I wouldn't make that suggestion of her." He shrugged. "Food will be downstairs, if you're hungry."
Griphook didn't budge. He just stared at him through those black eyes of his. "If you are bringing him food, why can you not bring me food?"
"Because this isn't a bloody hotel," Bill said, finding himself falling into his usual irritated state that Griphook often provoked him into. "Which you apparently don't seem to realize. So, you either eat how everyone else is or you don't."
And with that, he decided not to continue sparring with the goblin and turned to leave. He did distinctly hear Griphook muttering something about wizards being useless and lazy, but he ignored it and instead found himself back in the kitchen facing a crowded table, all of whom were now looking at him as he entered. Fleur and Luna were the only one's not sitting—the former because she was finishing up charming food to the table; the latter because she looked to be readying to deliver a tray of food upstairs.
"Griphook knows if he doesn't come down, he doesn't eat," Bill said to Fleur. "It's his choice."
She nodded rather stiffly, but seemed pleased to hear the message had been delivered. Dinner was otherwise quieter than usual.
On the whole however, things around the house really weren't as bad or as tense as they could have been. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Griphook spent their days locked away in their mystery meetings; Ollivander only ever came down—with assistance—to sit on the front porch and watch the sea and read; Luna always had something outside she got into, and—just for something to do— Dean often tagged along. They all kept busy.
Bill was actually surprised to find how often he and Fleur had quiet moments to themselves considering just how many people were living with him at the moment. It easily could have been much worse, but he knew it still didn't make the stress of it all any easier on Fleur. Anxiety was already high given the climate; this was all just extra to deal with.
But much to their surprise—because Bill had all but accepted the way things were—Ollivander told them one morning that he'd decided he'd like a change of scenery.
"I am feeling up to the move now," he'd told Bill after he'd brought him breakfast—all under the glaring gaze of a grumpy Griphook. The moment he'd entered with the tray, Griphook had made a point to stomp rather dramatically out of the room.
"Really?" Bill had asked, watching Griphook go. "To my auntie's?"
Ollivander nodded. "Yes. You and Fleur have been most generous and kind, which I am forever grateful for. But I know you have a very full house, and if I can alleviate that burden, I would like to."
He then let his eyes drift over to Griphook's bed. He seemed to be biting back the word, "Also…"
Bill offered him a polite smile as if to say, "I understand." He couldn't even imagine having to room with the goblin every day, which likely had been a much easier task back when Ollivander spent most of his time sleeping and weak. Now that he had his wits about him again, it was likely difficult.
"I'll make the arrangements as soon as possible."
Fleur was surprised to hear that Ollivander wanted to move, but not upset. As nice and as pleasant as the old wandmaker was, it would be one less person to care for and one less mouth to feed under this roof. It also meant that everyone remaining was entirely self-sufficient, which would take some of the load off.
Bill had sent a Patronus to his family to inform them of the move, and received one back nearly straight away. Muriel's house elves were already making up a room for him. He could be moved as early as that afternoon. Things were happening far faster than even Bill could have anticipated.
"Griphook seems to believe he's getting his own bedroom," Bill had told Fleur as he prepared to escort Ollviander on the trip that evening, helping him pack some of the clothes he'd acquired while staying with them.
Fleur rolled her eyes. "Well, 'e iz mistaken. If anyzing, we should move ze boys in ze larger bedroom and 'ave 'im sleep in ze sitting room."
Bill didn't respond to that, though his gut instinct was not to rock the boat. The one good thing about Griphook having his own room was that he spent all of the time he wasn't with Harry in there. It made it so Bill didn't accidentally stumble upon him at random when he had his guard down.
Ollivander said his goodbyes to everyone that evening, though before they Apparated away, Fleur had appeared with a worn looking velvet case to ask if the pair would please deliver it to Muriel for her. The moment she opened it, Bill recognized it as the tiara she'd worn at their wedding. He'd forgotten all about it, and hadn't been aware that they still had it in their possession.
"Moonstones and diamonds," Griphook has said, appearing out of what felt like thin air to observe the tiara inside of its box. "Made by goblins, I think?"
"And paid for by wizards," Bill countered, throwing the goblin a look that dared him to push this right now.
He returned it in a rather challenging manner, but said nothing else.
Fleur fretted over them leaving—begging him to please be safe—but he wasn't particularly concerned. They were to Apparate to a precise time, to a precise spot, where his father would appear a minute later in order to bring Ollivander in on the secret of Muriel's house. He'd been informed that none of his family had noticed any unwanted attention during their entire time at Muriel's, so they weren't worried about running into strange visitors. It would be a terrible coincidence for this to be the night someone uncovered any of their whereabouts.
But the meeting went off without a hitch, and Ollivander was warmly welcomed into Muriel's home. As Bill entered—the first time since his visit weeks before—he noticed a different kind of energy in the old home. It felt more familiar; more welcoming. It felt like his family was there.
He was sure Muriel wasn't a big fan.
"Those twins and their bloody owls at all hours of the day!" Muriel had told Bill after his arrival, referring to Fred and George and the fact that they'd set up an Owl-Order business out of her back room. "If You-Know-Who finds us, it will be because of them!"
"Twice a day," George muttered once Muriel became distracted with telling her house elf to take Ollivander's things upstairs. "We send out shipments twice a day, most of it cloaked in Disillusionment Charms."
"It barely attracts attention," Fred added in the same tone as George. "Hell, she sends more post to all of her pen friends and boyfriends than we do."
"She has boyfriends?" Bill asked, his eyebrow raised.
"No," Fred laughed.
"We like to pretend she does," said George. "We've come up with loads of fun stories about what she's really up to with her time."
"And we like to ask her about them at dinner." Fred smirked. "It drives her mad."
"Yes, because that's exactly what you want to do to someone hosting you," Bill said. "Drive them mad."
"It helps pass the time," George offered.
Muriel suddenly gasped from nearby, seemingly pleased about something. When they all turned to look, they found Ollivander handing over the tiara Fleur had asked him to deliver.
"Oh, thank Merlin, I thought it was gone forever!"
"Did you really?" Bill asked. "You had to have known we still had it."
She turned to give him a rather judgmental sort of look. "Well, if I'm honest, William, I'd thought you and your French wife decided to keep it for yourselves."
"She thought you stole it," Ginny whispered to him, having come up behind the twins.
Bill suddenly didn't feel the least bit sorry for the twins driving the old woman mad any longer. Under his breath he muttered, "Of course she did…" before finding that Ginny was happy to change the subject. She'd immediately started asking loads of questions all at once, all about how the others were doing; what they were doing; if they were alright.
"Everyone's fine," Bill told her. "Ron, Harry, and Hermione are up to something they won't talk about."
"What else is new?" Ginny mumbled. "It can be frustrating."
"It mostly bothers me because they're planning something with the goblin we have staying there, and…" He shrugged. "I know this goblin and he can't be trusted. I'm just afraid of what they're getting themselves into."
He looked over to see his mother and father staring back at him with curious concern, but he merely shrugged as if to say he had nothing else to offer them. Their guess was as good as his as to what all this was about.
"You haven't talked to Charlie recently have you?" his mother asked. "We can't Floo Call him and he hasn't responded to my letters. Even the ones I've asked him to just respond to know that he's alive."
Bill shook his head. "Not recently, no. But knowing Charlie, he's playing it safe. He'll have kept a low profile once he found out we're in hiding."
"For all we know, he may be in hiding too," Fred said.
"Charlie wouldn't know how to put up the charm," his mother countered. "It took Bill ages to work it out and Charlie was never as disciplined as he was to solve those sorts of things."
"If I were him," George said. "I'd stick closely to my most bloodthirsty dragon and let someone try to come for me."
"Yes," Fred agreed. "Then I'd—"
"If I hear from him, I'll let you know," Bill said before the twins could get going. He didn't have the time to listen to this play out, seeing as he'd promised Fleur he wouldn't be long.
Before he left however, after everyone said their goodbyes and told him to send their well-wishes to everyone back at the cottage, his father had pulled him to the side. In a low voice he asked, "I know you don't know, but what do you suspect they're up to with this goblin?"
"Nothing good," Bill said without hesitation. "This one is bad news. Very anti-wizard; practically as bloodthirsty as George seems to think Charlie's dragons are. I can't see what help or advice Griphook would be able to offer them without it benefiting him first and foremost. He likely could be tricking them entirely."
His father frowned. "Have you told Harry this? Warned him about the goblin?"
"Not in so many words, no."
"Why?"
"It's a crowded house and it's difficult to get Harry on his own," Bill said. "Also…" He sighed. "Because Harry's changed."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean he's not the kid he was even a year ago. There's no curious questions or confused, wide-eyed inquiries anymore. He knows things and he's seen things. He's developed this hardness and become a person who has fully realized this is all on him and he's going to do what it takes. I can warn him until I've gone hoarse, but if that goes against his plans, it won't matter. He won't want to hear it."
His father looked away, still frowning. He didn't seem keen to hear that.
Bill reached out and grabbed his father's shoulder. "It's hard to hear, but I will say this. If and when Harry is confronted by You-Know-Who, that version back at my cottage right now will not hesitate to do what's necessary."
His father looked back at him. "You mean to say he'll—"
"He will kill him," Bill said flatly. "If he can, he will."
His father didn't react, but it was hard not to detect a plethora of mixed emotions all over his face. It was one of those strange moments where they all knew that scenario was the eventual outcome, they just didn't like to speak to it much or say the words out loud. Saying it made it sound tragically real. It made them acknowledge what this was all boiling down to.
He said his final goodbyes after that, Apparating home without issue, though on his small walk up to the cottage, he did begin to realize that whether Harry wanted to hear it or not, he really should be warned about Griphook. He may not have heeded the advice; it could go in one ear and out the other, but there was a chance he might consider it and approach things more cautiously.
Because if something happened where the goblin betrayed them—something that ended up harming Harry or Ron or Hermione—Bill knew he would never forgive himself if he somehow could have prevented that.
Fleur had to admit, the banging sounds on the front door was probably the most scared she'd been in ages.
Because it had been so sudden; so startling. No one had knocked on that door in weeks. No one knew they were here. This wasn't like before where the banging could have been so many things—many of which not welcomed, but something they'd always felt equipped to handle.
Now, the banging felt like they'd been betrayed and discovered; like someone had come for Harry and that everything was about to blow up.
She wasn't the only one to feel this way. After darting out of the kitchen upon hearing the noise, she found that Bill had jumped up and was just as startled. Harry, Ron, and Hermione—the only others to have wands—all also panicked, grabbed them, and were pointing them at the door.
In that moment, everyone was scared.
"Who is it?" Bill called, sounding braver than Fleur felt.
"It is I, Remus John Lupin!" came Lupin's voice, immediately identifying himself with a list of things that were an obvious attempt to skip the long line of questions they would have put him through. Once he identified Bill as the Secret Keeper of Shell Cottage, that seemed to seal the deal as to whether or not this was actually Remus.
If the entire room could have taken a collective sigh of relief, it did. Wands were lowered and Bill rushed to the door to let Remus in. While knowing who the visitor was definitely brought some solace to the situation, Fleur didn't immediately find comfort in his presence. Remus wouldn't have come just for a casual pop in these days. If he was here, something had happened.
His current appearance did not help matters. He looked pale and more tired than usual. Fleur was afraid he was about to tell them someone else had died since, even before they'd gone into proper hiding, Remus' last few visits hadn't brought happy news.
Remus straightened up and looked around the room at all of them, almost as if taking inventory of who was there. He seemed surprised to see so many faces. Perhaps he couldn't share his information with everyone present and was attempting to figure out what to say or do?
But then he exclaimed, "It's a boy!"
Fleur blinked. It's a…what? She lost for a moment, wondering if she'd missed something in translation. Everyone else in the room also seemed confused for a split second, until Remus clarified.
"We've named him Ted, after Dora's father!"
Fleur gasped. The baby! The baby had come! And it was a boy! Incroyable! After all of these months, it was mad to think it had actually happened! It was mad to think that a new little life had come into the world during all of this chaos; that things were still capable of being good and pure! It made her feel emotional in a way she hadn't experienced in so very long. Not since Bill proposed had she felt so…optimistic.
Questions were already flying at Remus at a mile a minute from everyone. Yes, it was a boy. Yes, the baby and Tonks were doing well. Yes, it was all very mad, but wonderful. Yea, they were very happy.
As Harry hugged and offered him his own congratulations, Remus suddenly asked, "You'll be godfather?"
Oh! Godfather! Fleur felt her eyes sting up a bit at that, watching the pair. The request in itself had been sweet, but what had really caught her was Harry's reaction. For at that single moment, the hard and business-like Harry who'd been living in their home for the last few weeks suddenly melted slightly. It was as if the tough, onion–like layers that he'd recently put up allowed themselves to be peeled away, and beneath the kind young man that Fleur had met so many years ago suddenly reappeared, if only for a minute.
It was so nice to see that he was still in there.
"M-me?" Harry asked, seemingly both startled and touched by the offer. When Remus reaffirmed he meant it, Harry accepted with little hesitation.
"We should celebrate," Bill said to her, giving her an affectionate nudge and saying he would fetch the wine.
She nodded, walking over to hug Remus and tell him that he must stay for a drink. They had to celebrate this properly; she only wished Tonks could be here as well to join them.
"I can't stay for long. I must get back," he said, though he certainly wasn't resisting the goblets that Bill was now doling out for everyone to take.
He was beaming. In all the time that Fleur had known Remus, he'd often shied away from being the center of attention, but that didn't seem to be the case right now. He was smiling, taking every handshake and 'congratulations' offered to him proudly. He was truly enjoying this moment, as he should. He was now a father.
They toasted the newest addition to the world, with Remus referring to the baby as 'Teddy Remus Lupin'. It all felt so terribly adorable already, Fleur could barely contain herself. She couldn't help but look over at Bill then, who smiled back in a shared way that she knew meant he could sense what she was thinking.
This was all so amazing.
"Who does he look like?" she asked once everyone had drunk their toast, listening as Remus claimed he felt Teddy looked like Tonks, but she felt he looked like him. He seemed to be hinting that he may have inherited Tonks' Metamorphmagus abilities, seeing as the baby's hair was already changing color by the hour. It was something he told them Tonks' had started doing as soon as she'd been born as well.
It was also not lost on Fleur that there was absolutely no mention of any werewolf qualities about the little boy. Remus didn't even seem to be entertaining the thought.
With the celebration in full swing, they ended up opening up another bottle of wine; the atmosphere now so energetic and alive in a way none of them had felt in ages. Remus kept claiming he needed to go, but he was clearly enjoying the festivities as much as the rest of them were. Life was simply too short not to enjoy this new life in the world.
"And you'll call him Teddy?" Fleur had asked, once Remus finally waved off Bill's offer for another glass of wine—seemingly serious about needing to leave this time.
Remus nodded. "Well, his legal name will be Edward, just as Ted's was. But Ted never went by Edward and neither will the baby. And Teddy seems appropriate for when he's small, if only because it'll help to distinguish him from big Ted, which—it's already happened once when Dora called him 'Ted', and Andromeda was momentarily confused, thinking she was talking about her Ted." He paused. "It made her very emotional."
Fleur laid a hand on her chest. "I can only imagine."
He nodded and smiled. "There have been a lot of tears about it, but Dromeda was very supportive with the name and happy to have Ted live on in her grandson." He laughed a little. "It's been love at first sight for all of us. He's just such a…joy."
"Of course he is," Fleur said, reaching out to give Remus' arm a squeeze as Bill appeared by her side. "We are so happy for you and cannot wait to meet him."
"Hopefully soon," Remus said, seeing the time and insisting that he leave then to get back to his family. He promised he would bring pictures next time.
Fleur walked him to the door after everyone said their goodbyes, hugging him again and telling him to send Tonks' their best. When she'd shut and locked the door behind him, she walked back in to find Ron, Hermione, Luna, and Dean all still in a celebratory mood—excitedly chatting and genuinely happier than any day prior to today. It was amazing what a little bit of good news could do to a group.
Bill wasn't anywhere to be seen, and neither was Harry. When she turned to look toward the kitchen, she noticed the door was shut, which…they never shut that door. They'd charmed it to remain open; Bill often talked of removing it entirely.
It gave her pause, but she chose not to think much of it; instead she gathered up empty goblets to tidy up after everyone. With her hands full, she carried them over to the kitchen door, using her foot to push it open, only to find Bill and Harry standing there in the middle of a clearly private conversation.
"Just a moment," Bill said to her, his expression stone serious and already asking her not to question this. She rarely got that sort of look from him; they were usually quite open with each other, but whatever was being discussed there wasn't something he wanted to fall on other's ears.
She took a step back and let the door swing shut in her face.
She moved to set the goblets down on a side table, not entirely sure what to think. For some reason, all of the good energy Remus had brought with him seemed to wither for her then. It had been such an abrupt reminder of the real world again; the one filled with mystery and uncertainty; of secrets and hiding. It had brought her mood down quickly.
Another secret meeting in her home. They seemed to be increasing by the day and she was weary of every one of them. It was always more questions and no answers. She was exhausted by it all.
She wasn't entirely sure how long Bill and Harry were talking because she'd gone upstairs to find some quiet. At least twenty minutes passed before Bill turned up and found her sitting on their bed, lost in thought.
"You alright?" he asked, entering their room and shutting the door behind him.
"I only wanted a quiet moment."
"Don't we all," he said, offering her a smile. "That was some surprise, huh? A boy…"
She nodded again. "I am very happy the baby and Tonks are well. Especially after everything she has been through."
He hummed as if to agree, coming over to take the seat beside her on the bed.
As soon as he had, she turned to him and asked, "What were you and Harry in the kitchen discussing?" She frowned. "And so help you if you tell me you cannot say…"
He laughed and let himself fall back onto the bed. "I'm not going to say that. I'm over the secrecy as much as you are. I was only warning him."
"About?"
"Griphook," he said, staring up at the ceiling. "I have this suspicion that…" He looked over at her. "This will sound mental, but I think they're trying to do something with Gringotts."
She raised her eyebrow. Trying to do something with Gringotts? What did that...?
"What do you mean?" she asked.
He shrugged. "Dunno. Perhaps they need to get in for some reason? I've heard both Ron and Harry—when they think no one's listening—mention Gringotts in low whispers. And if you think about it, what else would Griphook have to offer them other than knowledge of Gringotts?"
"But," Fleur said, turning to face him. "You have knowledge of Gringotts. Why would they not have come to you?"
He shrugged again. "Even I'm not privy to most things. I'm probably as close as a wizard can get, but that's still only knowing half of Gringotts' mysteries. I could never enter a vault that I didn't have a key for, for example. But certain goblins can."
"Griphook is not one of those goblins."
"He's not," Bill agreed. "But he's closer to that inner circle. He knows things I wouldn't and has access to things I don't." He sat up. "He also can be bought—or at least he can pretend to be."
Fleur didn't understand. "Could be bought? What does…?"
"If Harry had come to me with whatever this is all about—if it is Gringotts related—I'd have shut him down. You don't fuck with Gringotts. It's rule number one. You know that."
He looked away. "But perhaps Griphook didn't shut him down. Perhaps he agreed to help him."
"But help him how? And why would he do that?"
"Because he doesn't care what happens to them, as long as he gets what he wants."
He looked her straight in the eyes. "I suspect what he wants is the sword that Harry's been keeping put away. I think the sword may belong to Harry, but Griphook has taken an interest in it due to its goblin origins. He feels a claim to it, and I can see him agreeing to whatever Harry's terms were, under the condition that he get the sword as payment. It's why he gave it up so easily after refusing to part from it originally. It's why he's working every day with them. They're giving him something, and I'd bet anything that something is the sword."
"But why would Harry give that to him?"
"Because at the end of the day, what's he need a sword for?" Bill countered. "He's got a wand that does everything that sword can. My guess is he picked it up somewhere or took it from some baddie, and he's realized he can use it as leverage over Griphook for the information he needs. If it works, Griphook gets the sword, Harry gets his information, and everyone—" he suddenly made air quote with his fingers, "'wins.'"
"Except they do not?" Fleur said, realizing he had contrary thoughts on the matter.
"Well, that's what I was warning Harry about; that he can't trust Griphook. I explained to him how goblins view their possessions and how if he's promised him something like the sword, it's a bad deal because, since Griphook likely feels it belongs to him, he'll renege on him the moment he gets the chance. The moment Harry lets his guard down."
"But if Griphook feels the sword is already his," Fleur asked, "why did he give it up? Why does he let Harry keep it with him? Why does he not take it when no one is looking?"
Bill laughed a little. "With as crowded as this place is, when is no one looking?"
He ran a hand through his hair. "But it's more likely that he's behaved himself because he knows we'd never let him stay if he outright took it. He'd be back on the run—only even more of a target for Death Eaters after being seen with Harry. He'd have that sword, but not much else."
He looked at her. "At least, that's what I assume. I can't be sure, but this is what my gut is telling me. Something is up with that sword and Gringotts."
He suddenly stood up, pacing a bit. "When speaking to Harry a moment ago, I dropped this hyperbolic reference about breaking into Gringotts—just to see how he'd react."
"And how did he react?"
"Nothing jumped out," he muttered. "But I can tell I struck a chord. Something I said made him think."
Fleur watched him pace, almost not believing it. Breaking into Gringotts was insanity. They would never survive, even with the help of a goblin. They would realistically need the help of so many goblins—the entire bank, really—there were so many systems in place to prevent mischief and thievery. She was actually certain no one knew all of Gringotts' secrets. That was done on purpose.
And what did any of this have to do with You-Know-Who? He didn't have anything to do with the bank—not yet. Due to all of the extreme security measures Gringotts had in place, it was one of the few places that the Death Eaters had yet to infiltrate. What sort of wild detour were they planning to make?
Mostly though, there was no way Harry and the others would be so foolish. Bill had to be mistaken. Even if what he said did connect many dots.
She looked back at him. "What could they possibly want with Gringotts?"
He frowned, shaking his head. "I have no idea. I can only hope I'm wrong because I cannot see any scenario in which someone tries to best Gringotts and lives to tell the tale."
Fleur still wanted to believe that Bill was mistaken, but on the chance that he wasn't, she now felt compelled to actually push the issue and get to the bottom of things. This was insanity; they needed to be made aware of all of the complications and consequences that would arise if Bill's suspicion was correct. Especially if they were putting all their faith into Griphook.
Bill, however, felt differently.
"We don't even know if any of my suspicions are true," he told her. "This is all speculation and, for all I know, we're worrying about nothing. But if we stick to what we know for sure, it's that they can't and shouldn't trust Griphook. And I warned Harry about that."
"There must be something else we can do," she muttered.
He shrugged. "We help them the best we can and hope they're not daft enough to think they can successfully break in to Gringotts."
Fleur had a hard time wrapping her head around the concept of inaction, but until she had solid proof, what more could she do? Any day now, they would come to her and Bill and tell them they were leaving—Harry had already mentioned to her that they would be leaving soon. She had told him that was ridiculous, that he was safe here, but she also knew they never would have actually stayed much longer. You-Know-Who could not be defeated while they were sleeping every night on her sitting room floor.
They couldn't stop them.
Sure enough, days after that conversation, Ron approached them both to ask if they had a tent they could borrow. They were apparently packing up their things.
"Borrow?" Bill had asked, staring at Ron as if to perhaps rethink his word choice. "Didn't you borrow your last tent from dad? The one he's never getting back because it's been abandoned in the woods somewhere?"
Ron made a face. "It's not as if we wanted to do that. But fine. Can I have a tent?"
"What for?" Fleur asked as she came to stand beside Bill. She already suspected the answer having to do with them announcing that they were leaving soon, she just wasn't keen to hear it.
"Well, we'll be leaving the day after next and want to be properly packed up," he said, looking as if he was choosing each word carefully. "Have to get back to work, you know?"
Neither Bill or Fleur reacted to that. They just stared at him.
Ron cleared his throat. "Good news is, Griphook will be coming along, so we'll get him out of here for you."
"Where are you going?" Bill casually asked.
Now it was Ron's turn to just stare. Fleur detected a bit of annoyance in his expression at the fact Bill had even bothered to ask.
"Well, can't blame me for trying," Bill muttered. "We do have a tent, though. I'll find it for you."
Ron nodded appreciatively, turning to leave to perhaps relay that news to Harry or Hermione.
Before he could though, Fleur added, "I hope you are not making a poor decision, Ron. One that is not wise or could turn out to be very dangerous."
Ron stopped and looked back over his shoulder at her. He stared for an extra second or two, almost looking as if he was thinking over his response, but then only offered, "Yeah, I hope I'm not either."
And with that, he did walk away. His footsteps now carrying up the stairs.
She took a heavy breath the moment he was gone, already feeling Bill's eyes on her. When she met them with hers, he just offered her a lazy smile.
"You can't stop them. All we can do is help them."
"I am helping them," she said. "By making them think very hard about what they may be doing."
"I have a feeling they've been thinking longer and harder than any of us could imagine."
She truly did hope he was right, because after all of this—years and years of this—she would actually be more angry than anything else if Gringotts and an untrustworthy goblin were the source of Harry's eventual downfall. She had more faith that he could take on You-Know-Who face-to-face than best some of the traps and horrors that Gringotts contained—the ones Bill had always told her about in stories relating to someone's excruciating death.
Just as Ron said, they, along with Griphook, did leave the day after next. They'd informed them they were planning to rise so early, that Bill and she should not feel the need to wake and see them off.
Fleur, however, was not capable of sleeping through the early morning house creaks that filled the air, especially knowing what the source of them was. While she didn't go to see them, she did walk over to her window and peer outside, hoping to catch a glimpse of them departing.
Because a part of her wondered if she would ever see them again.
She did not see them from her window, and by the time she'd walked down the corridor to the now empty bedroom Griphook no longer occupied, she saw no one on the opposite side of the house either. They'd successfully gone.
Hopefully, wherever they ended up, they would find what they needed and solve whatever problem they had. She hoped more than anything they would be safe; that they would all meet again very soon.
Little did she know, 'soon' would turn out to be as early as that evening.
And little did she know that everything—the war, the fight, the hiding, and so many people she cared about—would all cease to exist by this time tomorrow.
A/N: Bill's "And paid for by wizards..." line is one of my favorites from DH. I may have developed half his character around that line and realizing he's got that quick snark in him. :)
