A/N: My dear readers, I am not fond of Author Notes before chapters; however, I need to clarify something which I am puzzled to have to clarify. This story is clearly NOT canon. People click on a story titled Wizards of the Caribbean. The story begins with Dobby rescuing Harry and Hermione from Ron -the Death Eater- and his betrayal and moving them to a private island... and some of those same readers are shocked (*gasp*) that the story isn't canon? Yup. It's shocking, I know. Anyhow, FYI, whatever happened up to this point in the original should not be assumed to have happened here. The knowledge the characters have in canon is not the same as what they have here. Horcruxes were not mentioned until the previous chapters by name, and this was done purposefully. What did happen up to this point in the hunt will be revealed as the story goes on with my own twist, but again, it is not canon. -Lux-
Chapter 4: A Reckoning
Harry was terrified. It had been over an hour since Dobby vanished. The wizard had no idea where the Dursleys were. He wanted to think that Dobby wouldn't know where to find them either. Dumbledore insisted the Dursleys would be safer that way. Harry wondered at times how many sentences that ended in disastrous consequences for him and those he cared about would start with "Dumbledore said," or "did," or "had," or "believed" (or any other verb, really).
To make matters worse, Harry felt stupid. He had believed Dumbledore when he said that the ring was cursed, that it was poisoning his body, and that he was living -essentially- over time. But no, the ring wasn't a random cursed object... just like Riddle's diary. Things began to dawn on Harry, and he could kick himself for being so damn naïve.
Was Dumbledore's ego really so big that he thought he was the only one who could end Voldemort? Did he think Harry was so weak? So useless? Such a coward? That he would run away when he knew how dire the situation was? No, Harry thought: anger later. Focus on Dobby.
"Professor, if I order him back... he has to come back, right?" Harry asked Professor McGonagall.
"If he is physically able... But do be careful how you phrase the order," Minerva replied with a slight frown.
"Dobby, stop whatever you are doing and come home safely as soon as you are able. No detours. I need you home," Harry spoke into the air, wishing for his friend to return unharmed. "And now?"
"Now we wait," McGonagall shrugged. Tonks approached the professor with a steaming cup of coffee, and she took it gratefully. She shouldn't have had so much firewhiskey on an empty stomach.
"Fuck, this sucks," Harry groaned. "Sorry, Professor."
"You are no longer my student, unfortunately, Mr. Potter," Minerva smiled slightly. "I just wanted to surprise you earlier. Don't feel the need to censure yourself for my benefit. I can curse you under the table," she chuckled.
Remus nodded enthusiastically with a smile, "Gaelic curses are poetic!"
"Oh, I'd love to hear that!" Tonks looked at both professors with a smile. Hermione looked incredulous. She had never imagined that her professor cursed, let alone curse poetically, whatever that meant.
"Professor McGonagall... I have many questions. Do you have time?" Hermione needed to make the most of her visit.
"When are you going back?" Harry asked. He wished the professor could stay. Having three very capable adults with them made him feel much more at ease.
"I am not sure. I have a couple of hours before I am missed."
"Good. Give me ten minutes with Harry so we can come up with the most important questions we want to ask. I don't want to waste valuable time."
The girl pulled Harry away before he could even process what she had said.
"Aren't we waiting for Dobby?" Harry asked
"Yes, we are. But we're multitasking. Sitting down to wait is not going to make Dobby come back any faster," Hemione offered. Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Hermione stared. Something was eating him up.
"Can I tell you what I think?" Harry asked.
"Of course," Hermione patted the chair next to her.
"I'm an idiot," Harry let out a slow breath, and the air blew his fringe up.
It made him look boyish and adorable. Hermione caught herself. Where did that come from? She frowned, "A. You are not an idiot, and B. I'm not following."
"I think we have been in close proximity not to one but to three Horcruxes already," Harry sighed.
"Namely?" Hermione summoned a scroll and a self-inking quill.
"The locket... The diary... The ring," Harry said, looking down. He felt so stupid for trusting the headmaster.
Hermione was pensive for a few seconds but nodded, "I agree. However, you need to tell me more about that ring. With the Death Eaters killing Dumbledore, it all happened so quickly; we never did take time to talk about that in detail. We got the locket, yes, but we never did figure out who R.A.B was."
"I know... When Dumbledore told me I needed to find and destroy cursed objects, he didn't tell me those objects could kill us! Not that I think he ever gave a damn about my safety, but still... What the hell!" Harry threw his hands up in annoyance.
"This is a mess," Hermione rested her head on his shoulder. "I am sorry that he let you down so much. Learning about his many wrongdoings has been quite a disappointment... And to think many were because he just thought he knew best, that he was smarter, that no one would do better than him..." the witch trailed off.
Harry nodded with a sigh. Hermione's eyes widened, and she looked up at him with uncertainty. "Harry...if I-"
"Don't. You would never do that," Harry squeezed her shoulder.
"But if you ever think I may be close to doing anything remotely like that... Remind me of him. You even have my permission to smack the back of my head too, if you need to," Hermione chuckled, as did Harry.
They were silent for a full minute in which Hermione felt him get progressively tenser until he blurted out, "Hermione! Oh my God!" Harry jumped and held his head.
"What?" She jumped after him, her wand ready. "Is it your scar?"
"No! Hermione... I killed Quirrel!" the young man's expression was one of horror.
"Harry... you can't think of it that way. You were a child forced into that position and-"
"NO! You don't understand! That aberration in the back of Quirrel's head... It had to have been a Horcrux! It survived off of unicorns' blood, remember?! Weren't you the one who told me there was no form of sustenance that was more evil than drinking unicorn blood?"
"Oh my God! You are right... Harry! Ginny! She was possessed by a Horcrux! That diary messed her up horribly. I always thought she needed therapy, but she kept insisting her parents couldn't afford it and that everything would be fine in time."
"Fuck. We need to apologize to her."
Hermione nodded. She then turned to face him with wide eyes, "Harry... the fang!"
"What?" Harry blinked repeatedly.
"What happened with the fang you used to stab the diary?! If it destroyed the diary... it would be worth a shot trying to use it on the locket," Hermione said, pacing around.
"I have no idea. It's probably still down there. I never did know what happened with the carcass."
"Then it's a no-go," Hermione sighed.
"What? Why? I mean, we went to Godric's Hollow, and all it cost us was my wand..." Harry tried to joke, but his attempt fell flat.
"We are not going to waltz into Hogwarts when freaking Snape and the Carrows are in charge."
"But they would not expect it. That could be a tactical advantage."
"Harry, no... The potential casualties could be too high. Our friends are there," Hermione reminded him.
The wizard sighed. "I know."
"Plus, when I think about it... Maybe the basilisk venom is no longer active. It has been years."
"You are probably right," Harry sighed. "But maybe there's a place where we can find basilisk venom and purchase it?"
"Maybe, but it's probably very expensive. Basilisks are very rare... Okay, so we need to know what else could be used to detect Horcruxes and also what can be used to destroy them," Hermione said, stopping her pacing. "I know Quirrell died, but wouldn't it follow that if you destroyed him by touching him, you could destroy the locket by wearing it?"
"Apparently not. Damn it!" Harry sighed, "We also need to know if anything can become a Horcrux and if Voldypants knows when pieces of his soul are destroyed," Harry added. "I would hate for him to pop up being like, don't touch my soul, you motherfucker!"
Hermione snorted, "Riddle taking the direct approach... That would be the day," she chuckled.
"I am corrupting you," Harry grinned.
Hermione laughed, "No, you are not."
"You didn't tell me off for cursing," his grin widened.
"It's pointless, isn't it?" Hermione lifted a brow at him.
He sobered up at that expression. He knew it well; it was mostly directed at Ron, "If it bothers you, I can make a conscious effort not to."
Hermione sighed, "That's alright. If anyone deserves the right to curse is you. Plus, you probably already think I am quite nagging about a million other things. I won't add language police to that list."
Harry turned serious and placed his hands on Hermione's shoulders, "You are not nagging. You are caring," he smiled at her with all the gratitude he felt that she was still here. "Fuck Ron for making you think you nag. You don't. Hell, if it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't have survived my first year at Hogwarts."
Hermione took a deep breath. She didn't want him to think that she was mean or ungrateful to Dumbledore. "Thank you... I appreciate that, Harry. I've been thinking about this thing for a while... You know with the Tales of Beedle the Bard and whatnot."
"Mione, don't stall. I know that marvel of a CPU you have up there never stops thinking," Harry smiled at her again.
"The more I think about it, the less it makes sense... Why do you think Dumbledore refused to teach you last year?"
He took a deep breath, "Do you want me to be positive or negative?"
"I want you to be realistic. You know how that necklace makes us think the worst of ourselves and makes us doubt both ourselves and the people around us?" Hermione asked. Harry nodded. She went on, "What if the ring did the same to him? He was a veritable genius, a trend-setter, a renowned wizard, and Master of several areas of magic... but he was still a flawed human being like all of us."
Harry paced but didn't answer. After a few seconds, he said, "You aren't saying what I think you are saying, right?"
"Maybe... Do you think he was intimidated by you?" Hermione said this in a 'What else is new' tone that surprised Harry. "Do you think he wanted to be the man who saved the Wizarding World twice? Do you think he had a hero complex?"
The young man looked away from Hermione towards the beautiful ocean, and his mind went back to the first time he saw the Headmaster at the Head Table. Time slowed down as he did a walk down memory lane. At some point, Harry had actually been foolish enough to think Dumbledore saw him as an actual person... Young Harry even thought that Dumbledore loved him. He saw the man as a grandfather figure... and the bastard milked that every second he could, manipulating, pressuring, and using him to bait Voldemort. Dumbledore knew Harry had a horrible home life. He had to have known. The first letter he received from Hogwarts was addressed to "The cupboard under the stairs." Still, "The Boy Who Lived" was left to starve and to bear the brunt of his relatives' worst moods.
It must have been so easy for Dumbledore to manipulate Harry by treating him with minimum decency when all he had known was abuse and neglect. Dumbledore was arrogant in his extreme power and ability. He didn't bother asking for advice as that would entail an exercise in humility. Dumbledore was a hero, a master of dueling and spell-casting, the only man Voldemort feared, and yet, it fell to children to eliminate threats at school every single year. Albus was the Headmaster. He had to have known what was happening. He was irresponsible and careless as a Headmaster. Every single year Harry was at Hogwarts, he could have died.
The more Harry thought about it, the more he felt like too many people let Dumbledore go unchecked to do whatever he wanted because he was Albus Dumbledore. He should have closed down the school when the Chamber of Secrets was opened, especially considering it wasn't the first time it had happened and the last time had deadly results. Dumbledore hiding the Sorcerer's Stone at Hogwarts put a bull's eye on Hogwarts for anyone desiring immortality. The castle was a school full of children, and, to make matters worse, he essentially challenged kids to go see the third floor by telling them not to go there. When had warning kids not to do something actually made them not want to do it even more? Dumbledore had been a headmaster for ages. He had to know how kids thought and reacted. He lied to Harry about his past, or at the very least lied by omission. Harry didn't know much about his parents' families, and the little he knew was not promising. Perhaps isolating me was another tool, bloody hell! Harry thought.
Hermione was thinking along very similar lines but analyzing scenarios and possibilities as she went. Dumbledore hired incompetent staff and allowed mediocre professors to abuse students repeatedly. No matter how much students complained, the professors weren't dismissed or disciplined, let alone removed. Quite the opposite, many professors that students hated seemed to do particularly well. Quirrell and Lockhart weren't remotely qualified. Snape was better suited to be a dementor at Azkaban than a professor... or any other profession that involves dealing with human beings. Harry trusted Dumbledore and the Headmaster groomed him to feel like his life was less important than others, that he should be willing and able to sacrifice. She was positive that Dumbledore wanted Harry to do the hard work while taking the glory. It would have worked, too, because Harry had never cared about the fame. How she wished she could help Harry more than she did up until now. Her brain rushed through a list of things that Dumbledore told Harry. If he had lied about everything else... Hermione had to lean against the banister as her knees felt weak all of a sudden. OH MY GOD! I need to spend all day researching tomorrow. Maybe professor McGonagall can get me some books from the forbidden section. She turned to look at Harry expectantly. He still hadn't answered her question.
Harry's mind was going faster than usual. It was a bit dizzying, really. Was that how Hermione felt every day? Wow. He felt a surge of respect for her. Every thought made him arrive at one simple but devastating conclusion. Dumbledore did not explain the Horcruxes to him intentionally. Harry didn't want to think the worst of people as a default, but so far, he had no reason not to do so in this case. Dumbledore probably thought he could survive the ring, and he must have wanted to hinder their quest, to slow them down.
Perhaps he thought he could find an antidote for the poisonous ring and that once Harry, Hermione, and Ronald did all the hard work, he could sweep in and take all the credit by killing a weak and finally mortal Lord Voldemort. Horcruxes were evil incarnate. The wraith of Voldemort had made it so that Quirrell died. The diary had almost ended with Ginny being sacrificed, and many people were affected by the Basilisk, Hermione included. The ring poisoned Dumbledore, but why would he even wear it without running tests on it first? Dumbledore had dealt with dark things before.
Then there was the blasted necklace. No wonder they had been feeling so lousy since they started wearing that blasted locket. While it did upset him that his well-being didn't matter at all (as Hermione would put it: What else is new?), Dumbledore knew he would be going on his quest with Hermione... and Ron. No matter how things had changed regarding the redhead, at some point they were close friends -Harry thought- and that alone should have been enough for Dumbledore to at the very least warn Harry NOT to touch the damned things, to give them a warning or at least a tool to feasibly destroy them.
Harry thought of Ronald and the locket's influence on him. However, both he and Hermione were exposed too, and they weren't attacking each other. Ronald was being a child and, honestly, a useless nuisance. All he did was complain from day one of the hunt. The cot was uncomfortable. The comforters weren't warm enough. The water from the shower bucket didn't stay warm. The tent was drafty. Their meals were bland. Their tea was always the same. The watch was too long. He was tired. Hermione was nagging. The books were too boring. Hermione didn't bring anything fun.
Never mind that Ronald didn't bring anything remotely useful at all and that every time he was asked to do something, he did it half-assed and complaining all the while. Ron never wanted to cook or to scavenge, but he was always the first to eat, the one who ate most regardless of whether Harry and Hermione were hungry, and he was also the first to complain about what he ate. He rarely even made tea. When he was asked to read up on something, he always had better things to do or was too tired or had a freaking papercut. Harry sighed and tried not to roll his eyes. Ronald would go outside and sit and do nothing for hours while Harry and Hermione read until their eyes were bloodshot, and they got headaches trying to find a clue. Things were so bad about a month before he left that, without even meaning to, Harry and Hermione started splitting all tasks among themselves just so they didn't have to hear his annoying remarks.
Ronald never did think that Harry and Hermione wouldn't have rather been back home too. Hermione would have loved to be on holiday with parents that remembered her or at Hogwarts with Harry. Harry would have actually rather been at Hogwarts with Hermione. That was home: safe, cozy, dry, comfortable, and with food and showers to spare. The redhead never considered that they too were hungry and tired and frustrated and scared. Worst of all, he spoke of Hermione's parents as if they didn't even matter enough to be considered in their decision-making. He mocked Hermione endlessly about her lists even when the reason they were alive throughout the hunt was that she thought of everything important. She had been ready to flee in seconds at the wedding because she had prepared for months for the three of them. It was embarrassing, Harry acknowledged while looking back, how much responsibility she had taken on for them. Or rather, he realized how much of a burden she had shouldered alone because they acted like immature children. Harry felt ashamed. He truly did not deserve Hermione.
He and Ronald should have done their own preparations. They should have, at the very least, learned useful spells such as cooking, warding, and healing magic, but no. They kept relying on her and her prodigious brain. They were lazy, entitled, careless... perhaps sexist? Harry felt douchebag chills going up and down his arm. Ugh. He didn't want to think that he assumed Hermione had to know how to do all that because she was a woman. He hoped it was because he was confident in her genius, but the sole doubt was enough to make him feel like a stupid caveman. A flashback to Hermione lying unconscious in the Department of Mysteries gave him a full-body shudder. She could have died. He had no idea what to do to help her then. His brain screeched to a halt. Had Hermione been badly hurt in the past few months, she could have died because of his bloody incompetence. He silently vowed to learn all he could from healing and warding spells. He owed it to Hermione to be a decent partner. He blushed dumbly at the word.
Harry kept stumbling on how much she had done for him no matter how far back he looked into his memories. He turned to look at her. Hermione was leaning on the banister of the porch. Her hair looked almost golden with how the light hit it. She looked angelic. Harry shook his head. He should have listened to her. Of course. It made him feel like an imbecile that he had a veritable oracle at his side 24/7 and he didn't make the most of it. He still had a sick, unexplained attachment and a twisted ghost of loyalty to the man he once thought the Headmaster was and the -now very obvious- lies that he was fed. Harry still repeated their conversations in his mind repeatedly to try to understand what Dumbledore told him or rather the things he implied or suggested. But none of that mattered anymore. He realized he still hadn't answered his friend, who looked at him quizzically.
"Um... I wouldn't go that far as to say he was intimidated,"
"I would. You know what was in that horrid book. While we all hate Skeeter, and with good reason, Bathilda didn't have any blood in that game," Hermione smiled slightly when she noticed that Harry's hands moved down to her upper arms and stayed there. "But why would she, the real Bathilda, not the weird snake cameo," she had a full icky chill, and Harry rubbed her arms up and down. Hermione smiled, "give Skeeter so much information when she was supposedly Dumbledore's friend?" Hermione mused.
"I don't know... But I really wish we could have spoken to the actual woman," Harry offered Hermione his hand and she took it. Together they went back inside. If any of the adults noticed how much closer they seemed now than ten minutes ago, they were wise enough not to say a word.
"Okay, here's what we think," Hermione took the initiative and started to disclose everything they had discussed.
Vernon Dursley was confident that he and his family were safe. That old goat had given them sufficient money to move anywhere. Petunia chose the United States. Vernon would have rather moved to Australia, but they needed drills in America too. Perhaps it was for the best; Australia was rather hot and full of dangerous animals. According to that Dumbydoor person, it was also full of freaks. They now lived in the middle of nowhere in Montana. The money had bought them a large piece of land away from neighbors and surrounded by luscious trees all around. Petunia had insisted they needed privacy. Vernon found that out of character, but maybe she just wanted a quieter life. They had been quite frightened after what happened to their Dudley with those demen- something or other. Their son was never the same after that.
Dudley had turned quiet, reserved. He begged his parents to have him homeschooled after he was bullied relentlessly in school for his obesity, his grades, and his accent. He started to work out and eat healthier. Seeing how fast Harry could run and for how long while he was dying and lagging behind in a life and death situation had been a wake-up call. He was now even defending Harry to his parents. His cousin had saved his life while having no reason on Earth to do so. Dudley had done nothing but hurt, humiliate, and mistreat Harry his whole life. Harry would have been right to let the dementors suck his soul out. If roles had been reversed, Dudley was sure that he would have left Harry behind without a second thought. Maybe he would have even tripped Harry to save himself. Harry was made of a different material: he was kind for kindness' sake. It baffled Dudley how his cousin could still be a good person after everything he had gone through.
After Harry was gone from Privet Drive, Dudley had spoken at length with Mrs. Figg, and she had told him all about Harry. How he was forced to face the man who killed his parents at eleven years old. How he had to fight him or his minions every year since. How that terrorist had become the new government and Harry was in the magical world's equivalent of the most wanted list. He was God knew where or in which condition… if he was even alive. Many of the very same people Harry was trying to protect were rooting against him, and instead of getting the hell out of dodge with his family's seemingly endless funds, he had chosen to stay and fight. The money to purchase the property they now lived in had come from the Potter fortune. When Dudley heard the price, he had gone to his room to use a calculator and convert the amount, and he was in disbelief that his parents thought it was okay to take so much money from Harry when they never spent more than the bare minimum. Dudley was certain that Harry could move wherever he wanted. He could afford to live a lavish life anywhere, but he stayed. Why? Dudley didn't get it.
Dudley Dursley had never been a religious person, but ever since he understood the gravity of Harry's situation, he had prayed for his cousin's wellbeing every night. If Dudley thought he could contact his cousin to ask for forgiveness or offer any help, he would. He wasn't happy that his parents had taken the money that weird old man had taken from Harry's account without his cousin knowing. He couldn't really do anything to stop them, so for the first time in his life, he got a job. Mr. Kent, who lived a mile away, had agreed to allow him to learn about farming and animals at his property, so Dudley would ride a bike there and be made to do the hardest jobs at the farm. That was Mr. Kent's caveat. He would pay him fairly, but he had to toughen up.
And so, Dudley was cleaning manure, fixing fences, shoveling dirt to make ditches, cutting firewood, and occasionally taking care of the horses, but mostly he handled turkeys and pigs. The horses Mr. Kent took care of were too expensive, and Dudley needed to earn the stern farmer's trust to become a stable hand. So Dudley started saving most of the money he was making to give to Harry if he ever saw him again. Not that money would fix anything. However, he would feel better if he paid Harry back for his third of the money his parents had received. It would take him a long time, but he needed to do it. He just hoped he could pay Harry back in time... in case... Nope. He wouldn't think of Harry dying. Dudley shook his head. Negative thoughts weren't good. He pedaled back home as quickly as possible, covered in dirt, bits of manure, and hay. He hated to be out after dark ever since the dementors attacked him and the sun was starting to set.
Dobby had to pop away to the furthest area of the island to let out his fury. Waves of turquoise light came out of his center, and water exploded up silently. The water that flew boiled and evaporated. How could someone hurt his master like that? Master Harry, the kindest wizard ever, had been treated by other humans like Dobby was treated by his old master. They would all pay. Dobby decided to pay a visit to his Master's account manager. Something told Dobby that he had to follow the gold. If someone knew what had happened to those horrible people, it was probably the manager. He centered his elven fire and popped away towards England.
"State your business Dobby the free elf?" the clerk tried not to roll his eyes. A free elf was a ridiculous concept.
"I is looking for Manager Ragnok the Third," Dobby puffed out his chest.
"Why? Manager Ragnok only oversees two accounts," the teller frowned.
"I be knowing. Dobby is no longer being a free elf," Dobby looked pointedly at the crest in his uniform.
The teller was surprised. "Oh... Yes, follow me, please."
Ragnok was a goblin who looked quite young compared to most goblins in Gringotts. He sat behind a large desk covered in ledgers and parchment. He was so focused on whatever he was reading that he didn't hear his name being called. He didn't even realize that Dobby had come inside and sat down.
The teller cleared his throat forcefully, and Ragnok threw a dagger at him, barely missing his head.
"Ragnok! Are you insane?!"
"Don't you know how to knock!?" Ragnok snapped.
"I called your name twice!" the teller snapped back. "These young goblins have no manners!" the older goblin complained.
"Yeah, yeah, cry me a river," Ragnok shrugged and shooed the teller. "What are you waiting for? This conversation is confidential! Off you go!"
The teller left cursing in his native language.
"Hello, Manager Ragnok," Dobby stood and bowed.
"Hello, Dobby the Potter elf," Ragnok curtseyed with a flourish. "How can I help you and House of Potter? Any news on Lord Potter?"
"Yes, he is being safe, Ragnok."
"Good. I have been working towards the instructions he sent me. I assume you don't know the contents of the letter?" the goblin asked.
"No, sir goblin. I is a good elf. I is never reading my master's correspondings!" Dobby seemed offended.
"Good. Secrecy is very important for service personnel," Ragnok smiled. "Tell me, Dobby, how can I help you and your master?"
"This is being a strange thing I is asking."
"Those are my favorite. Do tell," Ragnok smirked.
"Master Harry is being my friend. He tells me so himself," Dobby blushed scarlet, but he puffed his chest a little.
"Your master is quite a different sort of human... Quite careless about his finances, to be sure, but that's what I'm here for," Ragnok shrugged.
"Yes, you is good manager... I is wanting to know if a large amount of galleons is being moved out of my master's vault."
"Meaning?" the goblin frowned.
"Well, something that is being unusual," Dobby was finding it hard to explain himself.
"Regarding strangeness... Hmm... Well, the money set aside for household expenses has been put to good use, thanks to you," Ragnok looked over three different ledgers. "What are you looking for specifically?"
"Moneys for relocations," Dobby tried to explain.
"For whose relocation? That would help," Ragnok pointed at a large number of scrolls around the desk.
"For relocating Master's family to another country," Dobby replied through gritted teeth as Harry's marred back flashed in his mind.
"I thought he had no family... No! Wait..." the goblin jumped off his chair and grabbed a scroll behind him. "As you know, I just took over my father, who passed away about a month ago. That's why this is such a bloody mess. I saw something about moving some Dorsets... No... Darcys... Nope, Dursleys! That's it!"
"YES! That is being its! They is paying for what they did to my master!" Dobby's face turned to a cold fury. "Their new homes address is here?"
"Wait a minute! What did they do?" Ragnok looked very interested.
"You should be talkings to my master."
"Can you take me to him?" the goblin needed to speak to Lord Potter soon.
"I can be asking. Wills you give me the address?"
"I don't think so, Dobby. I am sorry, but I too am bound to secrecy by my profession. I took an oath. You are his elf, but you are not him. Tell Lord Potter that I am looking forward to talking to him at his earliest convenience about his finances," Ragnok replied as diplomatically as he could. "I can go to him if he will have me and if you are willing to help me get there."
"Dobby is understanding, manager Ragnok, sir," Dobby smiled. "Dobby is appreciating yous loyalty towards my master."
"Of course," Ragnok motioned for Dobby to close the door when he left. Harry Potter had been hurt by his family? That was weirdly interesting. His father had left a mess for him to sort out, but now that he was finishing the audit of the Potter vaults, he needed to speak to Lord Potter about all the anomalies he had found.
Dobby managed to visit Andromeda's home briefly before he went to Gringotts to leave a letter from Mrs. Wolfie. It was a good thing he did because when his master called him, the call felt scared. Dobby popped towards the island faster than ever before. He landed in the kitchen and heard a heated conversation in the living room.
Tonks' hair turned flaming red in her frustration, "Harry, don't you get it? We can't trust or take at face value anything Dumbledore said! Hasn't he played with you enough?! We have to assume that there are Merlin knows how many more of these atrocities out there and we need to destroy them all before we even attempt to face Riddle. We don't know how many there are and have no way to destroy them. We can't waste time reminiscing!" Tonks exclaimed with abrupt exasperation. Harry had been emphasizing what he was told by the headmaster, and she had enough. Clearly, the old fool didn't give a damn about anyone other than him.
Hermione stood up more incensed than anyone but Harry had ever seen her, "What the bloody hell did you just say to him?!" Hermione snapped and stood. Her hair let out sparks. Tonks instinctively took a step back and Hermione took one forward, "Harry is not reminiscing! He is and has been trying to work out the mess of muddled directions and separating them from half-truths and bald-faced lies that Dumbledore told him! It is that man's fault that we are so fucking unprepared in this conundrum, to begin with, so don't you dare blame Harry! It's his life that is the most at risk out of everyone's here! He's public enemy number one, damn it!" Hermione narrowed her eyes at Tonks, dangerously, "And in case you forgot, the only reason he has been going over what Dumbledore told him is that you asked us to tell you what we know, and that is what he's doing!"
Dobby decided to intervene when he saw both Mr. Wolfie and Harry had stood and were just about to defend their ladies. "Master, I is home!"
Harry jumped, turned, and rushed to Dobby. He palmed Dobby and turned him around, looking for injuries or anything that was out of place, checking him all over. "Dobby! Please tell me you are not hurt! Are you okay? Tell me you didn't go see the Dursleys!"
Dobby felt profoundly touched. No one had ever shown so much care for his well-being before. "I is fine, master. I is being sorry for scaring yous. I is too upset someone hurt my master, so I is going to the end of the island to vent to nature and calms down my core, and then I is going to England."
Harry sighed in relief. He was certain that the Dursleys were not in England. "Where did you go to?"
"To Mrs. Wolfie's mom's home to leaves her a message and then to Gringotts," Dobby replied. "Manager Ragnok the Third is wanting to meets with you."
"That is not why you went there, is it?" Harry asked with a frown.
"No. I is wanting to get theys address to make them pays, but goblinsy be telling Dobby that only yous can get that informations," Dobby sighed. "Ragnok is being a loyal manager. He is wanting to speaks to you as soon as master is able. Dobby cans be going to pick him up and brings him here."
"Thank Merlin for that," Harry sighed. "Did you eat? We have food waiting for you in the kitchen. Hermione made guacamole," Harry offered. Apparently, avocadoes were a delicacy for elves.
Dobby's eyes lit up, and his smile widened, "Miss Mione is makings avocado mash for Dobby?!"
Hermione smiled at their friend. "Yes, and seaweed chips."
The elf ran to the kitchen after he squeezed Hermione's legs and looked up at her adoringly. "You is making sea lawn chippies too? You is too kind to Dobby!"
Hermione squeezed Dobby back with a smile of her own, and the elf left skipping. The adults shared a look. Sea lawn chips? Ugh.
"Mr. Potter," the professor said, clearing her throat. "Once Dobby is done eating, I would appreciate him taking me at least half the way back."
"Of course," Harry replied. He then turned to the now embarrassed metamorphmagus whose hair had gone back to pink, but it was pale now. She knew she had gone too far.
Hermione sighed, "We all need to take a deep breath. I am sorry for snapping, Tonks. I am very defensive when it comes to Harry, but someone should bloody well be. And just so we are all clear... in any situation here or in the battlefield, I will have Harry's back against anyone. If that gets me killed, so be it. I knew the risk when I decided to come with Harry, so did Ronald, by the way. So, I refuse to accept anyone trying to belittle his efforts. All he has ever done for the Wizarding World has been out of the goodness of his heart. The same community he has bled and starved to protect would likely hand him to Riddle to save their own ass if they had the choice."
Professor McGonagall looked at her lioness with pride, if a bit of sadness. It was like seeing Lily Evans all over again. She placed a supportive hand on Hermione's shoulder.
Tonks' hair turned gray. "Of course, Hermione. You are right to be defensive, considering the situations you have been in. Harry, I am sorry. I shouldn't have."
Harry stared at Hermione with a haunted look when she mentioned dying for him. It was a very real possibility. He had to fucking be mature and keep her safe. They needed help and minor disagreements could cost them all that help, but Harry didn't want anyone to be risking everything for him, especially not a pregnant woman.
"Tonks, I am truly sorry if I sound repetitive to you or if my manner of speaking makes you feel I have fond memories of Dumbledore. I don't. Not any more. I would have jumped in front of a killing curse for him, but the more I think about it, the more I realize he would have let me do it without a second thought because I meant nothing to him. I was a pawn in his game, and he would have willingly sacrificed me to advance his Greater Good. However, the little information I have, true or not, came from him. If you want me to throw it all out of the window, I an¿m perfectly willing and able to do so. Just give me a better option. I have no problem starting over and disregarding everything we think we know, but I need help instead of yet more criticism."
Remus nodded. "Of course, and we are here to help."
"I know. But if you need us to make grand discoveries every other day, you are sorely mistaken and I am afraid you will end up leaving as Ronald did. The last thing I want is for anyone else to get hurt because of me," Harry looked at Tonks' belly with a sad expression. "You are expecting a baby. You shouldn't even be here. Perhaps it is best and safer if you both leave right away. I want no one risking their lives for me," he looked meaningfully at Hermione who placed her hands in her hips and raised her chin defiantly with a frown. She was not ever taking that back and he knew it.
Tonks' eyes filled with unshed tears. She walked over to Harry and hugged him. "Harry... I'm sorry. That was a very stupid and indelicate thing for me to say. Of course, you are not reminiscing, and you are right. I don't expect discoveries like Ronald. I just want us to be on the right path so we don't waste time... because as much as I hate to say this, it is your life that is on the l-line. The sooner we are on the right track, the more possibilities you will survive this... Because y-you have to s-survive this!" Tonks sobbed into Harry's shoulder.
"Tonks, don't cry... I'm sorry... Please don't cry," Harry patted her back awkwardly.
"It's not your fault. It's the bloody hormones. And just so you know, nothing we discover will make Remus or I leave you now that we found you, got it?" she pulled away and kissed his forehead again.
"The same applies to me, Harry. I will be at your side come hell or high water," Minerva approached the young man and squeezed his shoulder.
Harry wanted to tell them to leave. It weighed heavy in his conscience that four -actually five- more lives would be in jeopardy because of him, but they needed help. He sighed, "Thank you."
"Good. Now that we have established that, I went to see the Weasleys. They needed to know what happened."
"How are they?"
"As well as can be expected. I didn't ask much because it wasn't a social call, and we were interrupted," Minerva explained.
"By whom?"
"By Ronald Weasley."
"He's alive?" Harry was surprised. "How did he find his way back? We were too far away, and Hermione reverted him to a child."
"Take a seat everyone, I'll share all I know, but then I must go back."
Tonks took out her own notepad and got ready to take all the notes this conversation called for. Since the professor had to leave, their questions would have to wait. Harry sat down heavily, and Hermione joined him, holding his hand tightly. She sat closer than necessary considering the big couch, but Harry had pulled her closer when they sat. She smiled at him and he blushed. Dobby came back to the living room eating his chips and guac from a tray after Harry insisted he needed to be well informed for his own safety. The Professor took a deep breath told them all she knew.
A/N: Thank you for reading! The next update will take a while as the semester is coming to a close, and I will be grading student work for the foreseeable future. -Lux-