"Sign here... and initial here," Daphne instructed him. Harry was seated in the chair behind Daphne's office desk while his girlfriend stood next to him, handing him paper after paper. The table in front of them was covered with them. Most were signed already, giving Daphne Greengrass full access to all his assets.
Harry had insisted they do this after learning just how much helping him cost Daphne so far. While he planned to marry her in the future and to share everything with her equally, for now, it would be unfair to let his girlfriend finance the entire war out of her own pocket. In addition, having unlimited access to both Potter and Black accounts would be very helpful in covering the paper-trail related to their activity. While Daphne could potentially finance everything from the Greengrass fortune, someone might notice the sharp increase in her spending and wonder what that was about. Diversifying over multiple accounts was safer.
"I still can't believe I'm actually rich," Harry mentioned in passing as he signed yet another document.
"You might be a halfblood but you're still the heir of two old pureblood families," his girlfriend reminded him and Harry nodded in agreement. Not all pureblood families were rich, of course. However, on average, the purebloods did tend to possess more wealth than the rest of the magical population.
Money makes money.
That old saying was especially relevant for wizards and witches as they regularly lived twice as long as muggles and enjoyed good health even in advanced age, giving them more time to earn profit and invest. Multiply such pattern of behaviour by many generations and the often fabulous wealth of the old pureblood families suddenly made sense. Unless they made a series of bad decisions at one point (like the Weasleys) or have become imbeciles due to inbreeding (like the Gaunts), purebloods were seldom poor. Both the Blacks and Potters were certainly much richer than Harry anticipated. Although the latter's fortune had dwindled significantly after being heavily involved in two major wars in the last century, first with Grindelwald and then with Voldemort.
"But why didn't Dumbledore tell me?" Harry wondered and frowned. The closest he ever came to discussing his finances with the old headmaster was after Sirius' death. But then again, it's not like he actually asked Dumbledore for any details. No. He just passively went on with what was happening at the time without thinking about it too much... it was the story of his life.
"I'm sure he'd have discussed it with you... eventually," Daphne answered him sympathetically while gently putting her hand on his shoulder. "I don't think he'd intended anything malicious by this. There was no way for you to access any of it, so he probably didn't want to worry you with it until you could," she suggested after thinking about it for a moment.
With all the adults in his family dead, Harry's assets were automatically frozen by Gringotts who were only obliged to give Harry full control once he would reach maturity. And while in principle Harry could have asked for an earlier access, hell would sooner freeze over before the goblins willingly parted with a single coin. The upside was the treaty also forced them to administer Harry's estate responsibly and to his benefit. So there was no danger of them stealing from him or intentionally running his properties to the ground by making bad decisions.
"I'm surprised to hear you defend Dumbledore," Harry quipped with amusement.
Daphne just shrugged. "I believe in giving credit... or discredit... when they're due," she stressed and Harry smiled at her in response. Having been a personal victim of that ridiculous slender campaign in his fifth year, he really appreciated the fact Daphne Greengrass didn't make up lies about the people she disagreed with. Or at least it wasn't her first reaction in such situations; Harry wasn't so naive as to think the pureblood girl was completely incapable of it.
It's just that according to Daphne, making up lies about your enemies was unnecessary when merely pointing out their genuine shortcomings would more than suffice. A good example was their conversations about Hermione. Daphne might have said many horrible things about his former friend, but Harry knew she honestly thought them true. And after being the recipient of Hermione's unbridled rage and vile insults of his person, Harry had to admit his girlfriend was making some good points.
Harry shook the thought away and signed another paper, this one allowing Daphne to make withdrawals from his vaults. Luckily for him, he was descended from an old pureblood family that had been already around by the time the relevant goblin treaties were signed. As a result, the Ministry couldn't legally confiscate his vaults the way they did with muggleborns. They could only do that with Harry publically confessing and being sentenced for a serious crime. Merely being accused wasn't enough which was why they couldn't have taken anything from Sirius either.
"Here we go..." Harry sighed tiredly as they've reached the final paper – his last will.
Earlier, Daphne mentioned to him she was going to alter her own will to make provisions for Harry should anything happen to her. Naturally, Harry was outraged at the very idea, promising on his life and soul he would do anything to protect her. Daphne was touched by his words but their subsequent talk also revealed Harry had not written a will of his own and Daphne strongly suggested he should do so. At first Harry was sceptical, thinking the idea morbid for someone as young as them.
But then he thought about it some more and realized she was right. Just how many problems in his life could have been avoided had his parents done this? If only they had written a will, Harry might have never ended up with the Dursleys and Sirius might not have spent over a decade in Azkaban. But what finally convinced Harry he absolutely needed to write a last testament was when Daphne reminded him just who the current heir presumptive of House Black was.
The idea of Draco Malfoy greatly benefiting from his death was something Harry didn't like for multiple reasons. Granted, the way he felt about the ferret has somewhat improved in light of his future marriage to Astoria. But just because Draco was going to marry a great girl didn't mean he wasn't a jerk anymore! And so Harry wrote a will. Naturally, he insisted on bequeathing majority of his fortune to Daphne but he also made provisions for his friends.
"There, it's done," Daphne declared once she collected the final signed paper from him. She turned towards him and grinned widely. "Now I officially own your ass, Harry Potter," she said and they laughed together.
"Having me sign a will and giving you everything... some people might really think you were setting me up," Harry jested afterwards before taking her hand from his shoulder and kissing it lovingly.
The blonde smirked at that. "No doubt many of my pureblood peers are going to pray for that to be my plan," she told him and Harry knew what she meant. Daphne had admitted her grandfather once suggested she should seduce Harry into signing over everything to her and then kill him after the war in the classic black widow move.
But of course, there was no need for Daphne to act like a black widow... ever. She didn't need to trick him in order to get everything she wanted. All she had to do was ask. Just order him to give her everything he owned, should it be her desire. Harry felt like the beautiful blonde owned him body and soul so what were some measly worldly possession compared to that?
Kidding and fantasies aside though, it actually made sense for him to let Daphne control his assets seeing as Harry had zero idea how to manage wealth. Or rather the lessons he did have were hopelessly inappropriate for his current situations. For instance, the teachers in elementary school had taught them how to manage pocket money – useful for a child and a young teenager, but not for someone supposed to handle inheritance as large as his. Then there were all the times he got to listen to uncle Vernon complain about taxes and the government always coming down on small businesses such as his. Some of that was surprisingly insightful but again, not really relevant to his current situation. Lastly, his aunt would jealously gossip about what her friends had bought and wildly speculate how their husbands could have afforded it given their jobs.
And that was it. That was the sum of Harry's education in economics. Meanwhile, Daphne Greengrass was being personally tutored by her parents about managing large financial assets ever since she could calculate. After the war was over, Harry had every intention to learn as well so he could pull his own weight in their relationship. But for now he would have to be a fool not to let the pureblood witch be in charge of his estate.
With the final document signed, Daphne took the quill from his hand and put it down on the table. She then sorted through the documents, making sure they had everything covered. Finally, she called out, "Kreacher!"
The elf popped into the room and bowed to them. "Mistress... or master called?" the old house elf asked, his eyes flicking between Harry and Daphne uncertainly.
Ever since the ritual, the house elves were no longer able to distinguish their magical signatures. It was fine if only Harry or Daphne were present in the room. But any time they were in physical proximity, the house elves were simply unable to tell who'd summoned them. It led to some awkward situations in the beginning as their species wasn't used to such uncertainty. It took the elves a while to think of a protocol for such situations they deemed appropriate and not insulting to their owners. In the end, they decided to simply ask which one of them was calling any time it was unclear.
"Kreacher," Daphne repeated and the elf's expression brightened knowing it was his beloved pureblood mistress who had called for him. "Here is the lord's degree giving me full access to Black vaults. Take it. You will be making withdrawals in my name when required," she instructed and Harry leaned back in his chair as he watched Daphne deal with the elf.
"Yes, mistress!" Kreacher screeched happily with a low bow even as he took the papers from her.
"Furthermore, I wish you to compile a list of all properties belonging to House Black, be they movable or immovable," Daphne ordered next before pausing and asking with a kind smile. "Can you do that for me?"
"Of course, mistress!" Kreacher agreed again in a servile voice, this time bowing almost to the floor. "Kreacher lives to serve House Black!"
Daphne nodded with approval at his words. "Thank you, Kreacher. Your service is appreciated. You may go," she told him and with one last deep bow, the old elf popped away.
"He really likes you," Harry told her afterwards, even as he reached towards her possessively. The girl allowed him to pull her towards him and onto his lap. "Way more than he ever liked me," Harry said with a pang of envy to which Daphne only smiled innocently before giving him a quick peck on the lips.
It's not like Kreacher suddenly grew hostile to Harry or anything. But the different attitude towards him and Daphne was more than obvious. He would respond to Harry's orders with a polite nod of his head while bowing almost to the floor in response to any of Daphne's commands. It seemed that after the ritual, Kreacher have fully accepted Daphne as Lady Black even though she and Harry weren't officially married yet. He no longer murmured about invaders from the sea either. In a way, the elf was now as much excited about Daphne as Dobby have always been about Harry. At one point, the elf, with tears in his eyes, even told the pureblood girl how she reminded him of his old mistress.
To be honest, his girlfriend being compared to Sirius' shrew of a mother made Harry nauseated. Fortunately, Daphne took the strange compliment in stride and thanked Kreacher for comparing her to such a 'noble pureblood'. This forever cemented the elf's undying loyalty to her.
"I think poor Kreacher had been living in morbid fear you were going to marry Granger... or someone like her," the blonde suggested. "It's a good thing you made the right choice in the end, Harry Potter," she teased him and Harry responded by hugging her tightly and kissing the nape of her neck.
"Still, I wonder how your Black ancestors would react if they knew a Greengrass now controlled their House," Daphne said next, referring to the millennia-old distrust between the two families.
"I bet Sirius would have been amused by it. He hated his family with passion," Harry said and snorted. "Honestly, I think my ancestors would have been much more concerned about me than about you," he told her next, knowing most of the ancient Blacks were at least as bad as Narcissa Malfoy when it came to pureblood supremacism.
Daphne responded by leaning towards him, putting her arm around his neck and kissing his earlobe. "They wouldn't be wrong, you know" she whispered. "The idea of an inferior halfblood leading the most ancient and noble House of Black is just... disturbing."
"Daphne!" Harry Potter cried with indignation, both over her words and her actions which threatened to drive him crazy with lust.
"What?" the blonde replied, pretending to sound cross as she leaned away from him and looked into his eyes. "Are you saying I am wrong?!" his pureblood girlfriend asked and then wiggled her butt in his lap repeatedly.
"Oh... I... I- I don't know," Harry moaned, completely confused and mastered by this simple gesture.
Daphne chuckled at his helplessness. "You don't know?!" she repeated with mock disbelief before smiling triumphantly. "Well... let me make it perfectly clear for you," she said as she stood up from his lap.
Harry immediately missed the contact and was about to pull her back. But before he could, Daphne pushed his eager hands away. She then dropped to her knees in front of him.
"W-what?" Harry gasped but the question was rendered moot a second later when Daphne's deft fingers unbuttoned his pants and freed his erect cock.
"Once upon a time, destiny made a horrible mistake and allowed a halfblood to end up as leader of two pureblood families," Daphne cooed even as she stroked his penis. She didn't give Harry any time to react to her words before she leaned forward and took him into her mouth.
"Oh my god!" Harry cried out as her warm mouth enveloped him. He reached out to grab handful of her illustrious blonde hair as she bobbed her head back and forth. Daphne had no intention of making him last long this time and Harry had no intention or will to hold back. It wasn't long before he twitched in her warm mouth and started pouring his seed down her throat. At the same time he could feel his magic bunching around his midsection before exploding into his girlfriend's sucking mouth along with a small piece of his soul. Despite the fundamental loss, as far as Harry was concerned, it was the best feeling in the world and he burned with love for the woman who was doing this to him.
Harry could easily understand why some wizards and witches get addicted to sex. For magical folk, especially those who could directly sense magic like him, sexual relations were much more meaningful than for the muggles. He could see Daphne swallowing his seed and her magic swelling with the infusion of energy he provided her. The blonde rocked back on her heels, his spent cock leaving her mouth. She looked up at him and grinned widely.
"You've corrected destiny's mistake, haven't you Harry Potter?" she asked as she stood up, her icy blue eyes blazing with power and satisfaction. "You've surrendered yourself and your families' legacy to a pureblood of the noblest descent... to me!" Daphne cried as she towered over Harry who was slumped in the chair.
Harry was nodding rapidly in agreement the whole time she was speaking but it wasn't enough for Daphne. "Say it, Harry Potter!" she demanded. "Say you're mine! That I own you!"
"I'm yours!" Harry cried in response. "You own me, Daphne!" he said and was about to get out of the chair only for the girl to push him back.
"Stay there... don't move a muscle!" she ordered and Harry couldn't muster a will do disobey.
It was commonly accepted sex made the man more amicable and agreeable to the woman's demands. Muggle scientists attributed this effect to the hormones released during orgasm. They were only partially correct as another significant factor was the soul fragment deposited in the woman's body. The rest of the man's soul could still sense it, thus creating a connection and a sense of familiarity greater than any other. For powerful wizards and witches (which both Daphne and he apparently were), this effect was further amplified. Magic had innate desire to spread itself and the greater the magic was the greater this desire. It resulted into more magical power and larger soul fragments transferred between magically powerful partners during sex.
It was why Harry found it almost instinctive to obey Daphne's command to remain seated even though he wanted nothing more than to get up and seize her in his arms. He was even more sorely tested when he got to watch the lovely blonde slowly undressing. Harry gripped the armrests so hard only the magical protections prevented him from crashing them. Daphne Greengrass continued to remove her clothes with torturous slowness, deliberately teasing him. But eventually, it was done and she stood in front of him in all her naked glory.
"Daphne... please..." Harry begged.
"Silence, halfblood!" his girlfriend hissed in annoyance but then immediately smiled as she sat down on the table and spread her legs wide. The blonde then smirked and snapped her fingers. Harry instantly felt himself growing hard again despite coming in her mouth just few moments ago. It wasn't a wandless magic but rather yet another consequence of Daphne having just tasted both his magic and soul. It temporarily allowed her to cast magic on his body as if it were her own, provided there was a physical magic in both of them. Daphne once told him dating pureblood witches had its advantages and this was a huge one as far as Harry was concerned.
"Is this what you want?" she asked teasingly, biting the fingers of one hand while using the other to spread herself for his view. "Do you want to feel my superior pureblood pussy wrapped around your halfblood cock?" she told him, glancing down at his straining erection.
"Oh, god... yes!" the boy cried as he trembled in the chair, sweat covering his face.
"Really? Even if it brings you even more under my thrall?" she questioned in mock disbelief.
"YES!"
"Well..." Daphne said and paused, pretending to seriously consider his desperate plea. Finally, she said, "I've decided to be a merciful mistress and will grant you your request. Come here... come here and fuck your pureblood owner, Potter!" she ordered him loudly.
Harry didn't need to be told twice. He jumped up from his seat and hurriedly pulled down his pants before rushing towards Daphne who had meanwhile spread her legs to receive him. They moaned and gasped in unison as he entered her in great rush. Daphne's hands hastily roamed his body as she removed his shirt. Afterwards, she wrapped her legs around his midsection tightly and laid herself down on the table as Harry began to thrust. He soon leaned over so he could kiss her and feel her whole body against his.
The spell the blonde used on him also kept him from coming too soon this time and Harry continued to fuck her on top of the table for a long time, the documents giving Daphne Greengrass control over his assets trapped beneath her sweaty back.
Severus really hoped that Potter and Greengrass were doing something tedious and frustrating right now... just as he's been doing this entire morning.
It's been the second day of Severus' exploration of the so called Room of Requirement. And honestly, he was rapidly coming to hate the place. Not as much as he hated Harry Potter, of course, but the room now definitely made his list and the reason for that was simple – the amount of crap deposited there by countless generations of students and teachers simply defied belief. It made his search of the room painfully slow, especially as his new bosses had been infuriatingly evasive about what he was supposed to be looking for.
'A cursed object made by the dark lord, saturated with dark magic.'
There were countless objects in the room which reeked of dark magic! How did Potter and Greengrass expect him to find one specific thing based on such vague description?! It would be utterly impossible for most people!
Luckily for the two brats, Severus wasn't most people. He was deeply familiar with the dark lord's magical signature as he had witnessed countless of his magical creations and was positive he would be able to recognize an object made by him if he were to find one. That was the only reason why he'd agreed to do this instead of telling the two teenagers they were asking the impossible. That... and the fact he really had no other choice. Helping Potter defeat the dark lord in order to protect his wretched life has been Severus' primary focus for years so it made sense for him to help.
But there was also his own future to consider.
Severus possessed letters magically signed by Dumbledore which explained his actions and attested to his innocence. His original plan was to present them after the war in order to avoid the prison time which would have otherwise followed if people still saw him as Dumbledore's murderer. But the unexpected intervention of Daphne Greengrass and her subsequent partnership with Potter changed everything. It was now apparent the purebloods, despite all odds, were almost certain to come out victorious out of this war. And when that happened, being revealed as Dumbledore's right hand man all along wasn't going to do as much for him as Severus had hoped. It might even hurt his reputation in eyes of some powerful people.
He would probably still present the letters after the war was over but Severus knew they could no longer be his sole shield. What he truly needed was to get associated more closely with the pureblood faction. And as much as he hated to admit it, doing whatever Potter and especially Greengrass asked of him was the surest way to do it. While Greengrass might try to double-cross him under the right circumstances, Severus was positive Potter wouldn't and that he wouldn't let his girlfriend do it either. In this case, Potter's Gryffindor naivety and honour worked in his favour.
Perhaps after the war, Severus would also finally switch to using his mother's maiden name. Being a Prince would certainly give him some additional points in the ultra-conservative pureblood circles. It was something he'd meant to do right after his Hogwarts graduation but never got around to because of the war.
After the dark lord's first defeat and his subsequent association with Dumbledore, changing his surname became politically inconvenient. Severus couldn't afford to be seen as dismissive of his muggle heritage as it would reflect poorly on his strongly pro-muggle patron. And by the time the dark lord came back again, he's been well-known as Severus Snape to the entire magical Britain. At that point, changing his name to Severus Prince would have created far more problems than it would have solved.
But... if pureblood idealists like Greengrass were going to be on the rise after the war, then perhaps changing his name would still be worth it. He'd finally get rid of an uncomfortable reminder of his abusive father while also firmly demonstrating his loyalty to the new regime. Oh, to think how single event could affect the future so much; Albus had to be spinning in his grave! But at least Severus would be able to face whatever was to come. His impeccably pureblood mother (thank the Merlin for her) guaranteed he'd be accepted in whatever society is formed under the new order.
Some people, sadly, weren't going to be that lucky. After giving it some thought, Severus was now certain the resigned existential terror he'd seen in Hermione Granger's eyes wasn't entirely faked. She too must have realized the future would be very different from what she'd expected and that a lot of her ambitions were going to be unfulfilled. The annoying Gryffindor bookworm had always been obsessed with proving herself the best and getting approval from everyone around her. Knowing the people in power would never approve of her and her best was never going to be enough... that had to be awful for her.
Severus reached the next stack of crap from which he sensed some dark magic emanating.
He stopped directly in front of it and raised the 'tool' Greengrass had provided him with to supposedly detect the dark lord's object. On the first sight, it was an ordinary wand with its magical core removed (thus rendering it useless for spell casting). In an effort to learn the nature of the object he was looking for, Severus had examined it in detail. He quickly noticed the wand wasn't left hollow but the core had been replaced with what he eventually identified it as dementor dust.
As the name would suggest, dementor dust came from dementors. It was created by taking one of the creatures and processing it through a very fine meat grinder. Its manufacturing was strictly forbidden. Not because of the gruesomeness of the manufacturing process or out of concern for the soul-sucking demons, but because even ground up into dust the demons were still technically alive. In fact, the dust had a tendency to spontaneously regenerate back into a dementor if left undisturbed, creating an ever present danger for people handling it.
Knowing what substance was in the wand certainly raised more questions than it answered. According to Greengrass, it should detect the object he was looking for, albeit it was very limited in range and would also react to living people if pointed in their direction. Based on that information and knowing what was in the wand, Severus hypothesized the object he was looking for might have something to do with soul magic. But it was merely a speculation. Given its very short range, the wand would also be useful only for confirming the identity of the object rather than finding it. For that, Severus had to unfortunately rely on his magic sight and instincts.
This in itself presented a problem in a place like the Room of Requirement. So many things were stored there and almost all were completely soaked with magic accumulated over centuries. Using his magic sight in such an environment was like staring into the Sun, trying to spot the planet Mercury passing in front of it. It made his search of the room slow and tiring.
At least it was the second of the only two places Potter and Greengrass had asked him to scour, the first one being the Chamber of Secrets. It took about four hours to thoroughly search through that place after accessing it using a recording stone of Potter hissing in Parseltongue. And that included half an hour of staring and examining the corpse of the giant basilisk in shock. He even found the hole in the beast's mouth roof through which Potter had stuck the Gryffindor's sword into its brain. He also noticed Potter's blood still coating one of the fangs. His mind rapidly fluctuated between disbelieve, worry, and hating Potter for putting himself in such a ridiculously dangerous situation, again.
Was the stupid boy trying to kill himself on purpose?!
Anyway, searching through the Chamber of Secrets didn't reveal anything beside the realization the place might have been intended as more than a lair for the Basilisk. Namely, Severus found additional chambers there which by his estimate could easily house the entire population of Hogwarts and more. Some of them were even furnished! The Chamber and its purpose definitely deserved further investigation in the future but seeing as the dark lord's object wasn't there, he moved on to the second place mentioned by Potter and Greengrass.
Although they had provided him with exact instructions how to access the Room of Requirement, entering it wasn't easy at all as it seemed to be in constant use! It turned out that all of Potter's friends knew how to access the room and were using it to hide from the Carrow twins throughout the year. It took Severus several days of waiting as well as cancelling many punishments before he managed to access the place. The twins were angry and suspicious of him as a result, forcing him to be creative in his explanation. In the end, he told the two Carrows he was trying to flush out the rule-breakers and find out where they were hiding. It was somewhat related to the truth and they seemed to have bought it. Still, dancing around those two maniacs was getting more dangerous everyday and Severus was looking forward to finally stopping this charade.
Speaking of which.
Severus paused in his step as his senses were hit with the unmistakable and eerily familiar odour of darkness. With his eyes closed, he rotated on the spot several times, trying to pinpoint the direction it was coming from before stopping and opening his eyes. In front of him was an old bust of a warlock and on top of it... the diadem of Ravenclaw.
He was told the object might be related to Ravenclaw so the first thing he did upon his return to the castle was to quickly skim through a book about the founders. The picture of Ravenclaw's diadem, supposedly bestowing wisdom upon its wearer, was prominently featured in several of the illustrations. It seemed to be the only object consistently associated with her throughout her life.
Now that he knew to look for it specifically, Severus could clearly sense waves of very dark magic billowing from the diadem. It was a subtle but persistent thing that seemed to be stretching far out, well beyond the room. It was possible the diadem, or rather the spell it have been cursed with by the dark lord, was somehow affecting the entire castle. It was a chilling thought, especially as the thing has probably been here for decades, possibly since the dark lord's school days. Its influence seemed subtle, almost negligible, but there was no telling what it could have done over such a long amount of time.
In the next moment, Severus experienced a sudden fright as the diadem seemed to have sensed his presence.
There was no other way to describe it. Instead of the passive, unspecific field of darkness, the thing directly focused all its evil on him. Perhaps it was its defence mechanism upon being discovered. It caught Severus by surprise and he experienced an overwhelming need to pick up the diadem and put it on his head. He could hear it whispering in his head, telling him of all the great things he could accomplish with infinite wisdom. He saw a vision of Lily Evans being deeply impressed with his intelligence, leaving the idiot Potter and becoming his wife instead.
Severus reached forward with his hand. All he had to do was put the diadem on his head and then the love of his life would be his...
"Right... except of the small problem where Lily is dead," Snape thought sarcastically. He forcibly lowered his arm while using his mental shields to repel the ridiculous idea the cursed object was trying to project into his mind. Knowing its first attempt failed, the disgusting thing immediately tried to salvage the situation. It now tried to convince him he could figure out how to raise the dead if only he put on the diadem. This time, Severus Snape could not help but roll his eyes. He reinforced his mind even more until he could no longer hear any of it.
If this was the kind of protection the dark lord would place on the object important to him, then Severus was appalled by the incompetence. Granted, it probably would have worked on most people as few were as experienced with mind arts as he was. But it was no excuse! Trying to tempt him with the love of a dead woman... not only was it an insult to Lily's memory, it was just plain stupid. And to think at one point, he'd actually thought the dark lord intelligent. Cruel and sadistic, to be sure, but also smart and capable.
Anyway, it was time to get this over with. The wand with the dementor dust inside twitched in his hand like crazy the closer he moved it towards the diadem, confirming he found what he's been looking for.
Now, according to the two brats, the object had to be destroyed either with fiendfyre or basilisk venom. Severus wasn't an idiot and wouldn't summon a fire demon indoors. He also didn't fancy moving the diadem outside, leaving him with the second option. He reached into his robe and took out the small vial with basilisk poison he had collected just for this purpose.
Seeing the corpse of the enormous snake just lying in the chamber, he was seriously tempted to take more than just one vial. Harry Potter, the rich and spoiled brat that he was, didn't even think to sell the beast for its parts. To be fair, it's not like Potter needed the extra money. A celebrity like him would never have to work for a paycheck. But still, selling the basilisk would have set Potter up for a lifetime, perhaps two.
Unfortunately, while Harry Potter in his feeble mindedness might not care about the potentially huge profit, the same could not be said about Daphne Greengrass. Once the war was over, the pureblood girl would no doubt make Potter claim the beast's corpse and scrap it for parts. If Greengrass was smart (which she was), she would then gradually sell the basilisk fluids and tissues over the next hundred years, ensuring the market never becomes saturated and the price remains high.
That is why in the end, Severus didn't dare to collect more than two additional vials. Should Greengrass later find suspiciously large quantities of the venom missing, she'd know exactly who took them. And then she would nail Severus to the wall. A son of a muggle stealing from a pureblood lady was no doubt going to be one-way ticket to Azkaban in the future.
After putting on the protective gloves he was carrying at all times (an old habit from teaching potions for decades), Severus removed the stopper. From a safe distance, he then levitated the vial above the diadem. He could feel the thing desperately beating against his mental shields but he ignored it and willed his magic to tip the vial over, allowing the basilisk venom to impact the priceless artefact.
A second later, Severus was very glad for his decision to do this from a safe distance as there was a terrible screeching noise. Some sort of black smoke even exploded out of the diadem as soon as the first drop of poison fell on its surface. And was that the dark lord's face staring at him angrily from the smoke? He would have been worried but a moment later, it seemed to be over. The black smoke was gone as was the oppressive darkness.
He cautiously approached the diadem, casting several detection charms and using the detector. All negative. In fact, there were no traces of magic in the diadem whatsoever, all of it completely obliterated by the basilisk venom. Severus sighed sadly at the knowledge this included any of the fabled enchantments put on it by Rowena. He proceeded to purge the residual poison away before collecting the empty vial. Then he turned around and walked away, leaving the diadem exactly where he found it.
His task was complete. Now all he had to worry about was evading the Carrow twins' suspicion and bribing the dark lord's guards to their side. It was almost like he was on a vacation.
Daphne has been postponing it for over a week but it was finally time to deal with this goblin nonsense. When her prisoner first asked to parley, she was immediately suspicious. A goblin requesting to talk with her right after conversing with that awful mudblood?! Surely, not a coincidence!
The only reason she'd allowed the girl to speak with Griphook was that Daphne didn't think it possible the goblin would be interested in talking with her in the first place. But if the two of them actually cooked up some plan together... then Griphook's execution would no longer be delayed. As for Granger, she'd probably lose her head too. Daphne could forgive her for a lot of things but not for collaborating with the goblins against her own kind. A fellow pureblood would have been executed for that, let alone a worthless mudblood.
Fortunately for both of her prisoners, upon reviewing the transcripts of their conversation, Daphne concluded there was no conspiracy between them. In fact, Griphook and his standard goblin insolence seemed to have squashed some of the mudblood's delusions. It seemed Hermione Granger had actually been labouring under the impression the goblins might help her in her 'righteous' struggle against purebloods. But even as thick-headed as the mudblood could be, it had to be clear to her now the goblins would at best end up enslaving her kind.
In any case, Griphook asking for a parley right after their conversation really seemed to be a coincidence. Possibly, the goblin might even have done it on purpose, knowing it would throw Daphne for a loop and make her suspect Granger. If true, she had no intention of letting him succeed. She had her people extensively review the goblin treaty and it seemed Griphook was exercising one of the oldest parts of it. It was also the only part which might possibly allow him to walk away from Greengrass manor alive as Daphne was magically obliged to execute him eventually.
She felt Harry squeezing her hand on the table in reassurance as two guards escorted the chained goblin inside her office. They pushed him into a chair on the other side of her table and then wrapped additional chains around him. Only when he was firmly secured did they step back. Griphook's evil eyes met hers and she felt Harry's hand again.
"I wish to make an offer in exchange for my life," the goblin said formally before reciting the paragraph of the treaty he was basing his wish on.
Daphne already knew it was legit so she merely asked. "What is the nature of your offer?"
"A valuable magical knowledge," Griphook answered with a toothy smile.
That piqued Daphne's interest somewhat. "And how will the value of this knowledge be judged?" she wondered. Same as beauty, value was also in the eye of the beholder after all.
"We'll let magic decide whether the offer is of any value to you," the goblin answered with unreadable expression.
"Hmm," Daphne hummed as she considered the offer and what it could lead to. One result was that magic would judge Griphook's offer worthless, in which case it would be back to the cell with him. On the other hand, if magic accepted his offering, then that would mean Daphne would no longer be obliged to execute him while also gaining valuable magical knowledge in the process. It seemed like she could only gain here but one had to be really careful with these cretins. Their minds were like mazes and there was always an angle involved.
"And if magic deems your offer worthy?" Harry asked before she could.
"Then you will spare my life and release me immediately," the goblin said and grinned before adding several other conditions so Daphne had no loophole through which she could renege on their deal and had him killed anyway.
"We can't release you before the war is over," she pointed out. It was the same reason why she couldn't let Granger go even though she'd like nothing better than for that bitch to finally be out of her hair. Daphne couldn't risk the dark lord's people capturing either of them and somehow learning about their plans.
Griphook frowned but it seemed like he's been expecting something like that. "You will release me no later than seven days after the current war is over," he retorted with an annoyed huff.
Daphne and Harry shared another long look, wordlessly communicating. They had discussed various possible scenarios before Griphook was brought into her office and this was one of them. Finally, Daphne turned back to her prisoner. "All your memories will be removed before your release," she said resolutely. Ideally, she would only take his memories since coming to Greengrass manor. But unfortunately, such selective memory wipe wasn't possible with the goblins. It was all-or-nothing deal with them.
"How dare you!" Griphook splattered indignantly.
"Oh, don't give me that, goblin," she hissed at him in annoyance. "Surely you have a memory jar somewhere."
"That's none of your concern!" the creature hissed right back, far too quickly.
"I'll take that as a yes," Daphne said and smirked. She wondered why the goblin was so concerned with protecting his life if he had a memory jar ready. Why not just kill himself in his cell? He could be resurrected in a new body and then reclaim his identity using the jar. Unless... ah, of course.
According to Harry, this particular goblin was running carts towards the vaults. A low-ranking goblin like that would probably have to wait a while before his people bothered to resurrect him. Meanwhile, his soul would be hanging in whatever hellhole these bastards go when they don't have a body. Daphne grinned at the realization which seemed to have angered the goblin even more.
"Do we have a deal or not?!" he barked impatiently. Daphne and Harry stared at him for a while even as his piercing eyes flicked between them.
"Yes, we have a deal," Daphne finally answered, feeling the magic around them subtly shift as it accepted their contract. "Now speak... what is this valuable magical knowledge?" she demanded afterwards.
"I need a paper and a quill," the goblin replied.
Daphne rolled her eyes but indicated one of the guards to give him what he wanted. Griphook's right hand was also untied. He went to write for a while without saying anything and Daphne was slowly losing her patience.
"Well?!" she asked when he finally put down the quill.
"I'm done," the goblin confirmed. "Here it is. Enjoy, witch," he said with contempt before pushing the paper over to her side. He deliberately used insufficient strength to do so, forcing Daphne to lean forward so she could reach for the blasted paper.
She picked it up and began to read while Harry looked over her shoulder doing the same. Daphne's face went deathly pale. "This... this is..." she gasped in disbelief as her eyes left the paper. And then she looked at Griphook and saw it – that proud arrogant smirk of victory. Daphne dropped the paper, unholstered her wand and then pointed it at the smirking goblin bastard.
'Avada Kedavra!'
No words came out of her mouth. She desperately wished to kill it... but it was too late. Daphne felt the magic of the deal settling around them. Magic herself deemed the goblin's offer worthy and she was now bound by her promise to spare its life. She couldn't do anything!
And then the awful sound started.
At first Daphne didn't know what it was but she quickly realized it was a goblin laughter. Griphook was laughing at her. He was laughing at the fact he tricked her! The goblin laughed and laughed... until his head snapped back in his chair and he laughed no more.
Daphne's mind was blank but if it wasn't, she'd know Griphook didn't stop laughing on his own but rather because of Harry Potter vaulting over the table and knocking the goblin bastard out with his bare hand. She also completely missed Harry ordering the guards to take him away and back into his cell. Daphne couldn't comprehend any of it as she stared in front of herself, oblivious to the world.
"Daphne... love... talk to me... please!" she heard Harry's voice and finally looked up at the deeply worried face of her love. She also realized he'd walked them to the sofa without her registering the movement at all. Harry raised the paper written by Griphook in his hand, his eyes begging for an explanation.
"Harry... it was them," she finally whispered. "Goblins. I don't know how but they did it," she said with cold fire kindling in her icy blue eyes.
"They destroyed Atlantis!"