The prefect rounds had started shaky at best, but now that they were in November most of the wrinkles had been smoothed out. Students had been inspired by what Godric had done, and as the man didn't act any differently and the Slytherins had more or less accepted him, more and more children were mingling. Especially when they saw their prefects talking to each other outside of patrols and the upper years helped the younger, regardless of house. Small steps first, but at least they were moving in the correct direction.

She had just finished her rounds with Jason Vaisey - sixth year Slytherin prefect - and she had about thirty minutes until curfew. Helga made her way to Professor Snape's office, wondering if he would be able to help with her latest idea.

Luna had mentioned the need to find her cup, but they had no idea where to begin. So Helga decided they needed to start with the last memory she had of the cup. A year before Diarmid had passed, she had spoken to the goblin king. They had been discussing the beginning of Gringotts, though the bank hadn't been created until four hundred years later.

However, out of good faith, she had handed over her goblet as they said they would keep it safe. None of her children had wanted it, as they never knew their grandfather, but Helga had wanted it somewhere until one of her descendants requested it. The goblins assured her they would do so.

Sighing, Helga knocked on the office door and moments later heard, "Enter."

Helga smiled at the man seated behind his desk. "Good evening, Professor Snape." As the door closed behind her, she raised the wards. "I apologize if I'm intruding."

The man's shrewd eyes narrowed in thought. "Is a meeting required?"

"Oh, no." Helga shook her head. "I wanted to ask a question, and I didn't want anyone to overhear. If someone knocks, you will still be alerted."

"Very well, ask," Professor Snape said as he listened attentively.

"We are trying to find one of my possessions. The last place that I am aware of it being is in Gringotts. I was hoping I may be able to use your floo to travel to the bank and back? If not, I will make other arrangements."

Professor Snape's face cleared. "You have a cover in place for your absence?"

"Of course."

"Very well. I will need to know in advance to ensure no one is in my office."

- - - - Founders - - - -

As promised, no one but the man himself was in Professor Snape's office when Helga arrived. She had set the meeting time in December, far enough in advance for the man to plan around and for her to have the rest of her preparations completed: her alibi, speaking with the bank, and discussing other possibilities with her friends if the bank did not have her cup.

"Thank you again for your assistance, professor. One of the house elves will come by to let you know when I am ready to return."

"That is acceptable." The professor nodded. "The floo is open."

Helga walked to the fireplace, stepped inside the floo, and called out, "Gringotts Bank, Odbert's office."

In a swirl of green flames, Helga had been whisked away. She stepped elegantly out of the flames when she arrived at her destination, a look of polite aloofness carved across her features. The goblin representative sat in his high back chair behind an ornate desk.

A simple chair had been positioned in front of the desk and Helga strode to it. She kept eye contact with the goblin as she took her seat. She had left her school robes behind and wore a simple, green pleat skirt that fell to her feet and a white lace top she had tucked into the waist of her skirt.

"Good morning, Odbert. I thank you for your time on this matter."

The goblin, an elderly one who had been working at the bank for years, steepled his long fingers under his chin, black eyes boring into Helga's who simply raised an eyebrow as she waited for a response. As the silence stretched on, Helga did not break eye contact with him. Her hands lay folded on her lap and she kept a serene half-smile in place.

When Odbert finally responded it was with a raspy and strained voice, "The request seemed so ludacris we wanted to sort out any..." he paused and narrowed his eyes with malcontent, "...misunderstandings."

He snapped his long fingers and the flames that had been crackling almost rhythmically behind Helga abruptly cut off. She didn't flinch, nor did her smile falter. "I am aware of how goblins view any who dare hint that their system failed. However, I am not hinting, I am stating facts." She continued on, interrupting whatever Odbert had been going to say. "My property has been tampered with and moved out of my family's vault. What is going to happen is I will prove who I am, you will retrieve my possession from wherever it currently resides as long as it is on goblin land, you will bring it to me, and I will leave without having to speak of your failure to anyone. Do we have an accord?"

Odbert jumped to his feet, his hands slamming on his desk with a snarl. Helga smoothed out her skirt and calmly crossed one leg over the other.

When he said nothing she asked, "Yes?"

The anger emitting from the goblin would have choked many others, but Helga loved the feeling of control she had in the situation. Conversations were easy, if one knew how to manipulate the information they had. And Helga always made sure she was prepared before entering any verbal spar.

She did not fail in the war of words.

"And what are you trying to claim, human child?"

"My cup, of course. My father crafted it with his own hands and I left it for my descendants. It seems to have been misplaced."

The sneer curled the goblin's lips. "You are too young to have descendants."

Helga held out her hand, an old fashioned fan appearing in her palm. She snapped it open and began fanning herself as she leaned back against the chair. "In this body, you would be correct. However, it is not this body that I am speaking of, but my original." She held out her free hand, and spoke in Gobbledygook, "I knew Ragnuk the First, King of the Goblins. I spoke with him, dined with him, until he and a platoon of warriors died at the hand of Godric Gryffindor for going back on his word and oath. I am Helga, Countess of Moray, friend of the goblin nation when they had honor. Come, take a single drop of my blood to confirm my words. Take more than is offered and your life is forfeit."

The goblin made his way around the desk, a knife in hand. "If you are lying about who you are, human child, your own life is forfeit, no matter the age you are."

She blinked and moved her head just so to cause her long, dark hair to cascade in front of her to cover half her face. Helga continued to fan herself, allowing herself a smirk. "Then surely you have nothing to fear? If I am who I say I am, you will retrieve my possession. If I am not, you have one less human that will step into your office."

He reached forward, knife held with practiced ease in his long fingers. Helga waited, eyes never faltering in their stare off with Odbert. A prick on her finger told her the deed had been complete, but she didn't look down to confirm he only took what he needed.

Goblins had always been a warrior race, and with that came honor and pride.

She did not come to the office to cause a dispute, anger, or offense. She came to prove herself a worthy ally and to get the cup they needed back. Neither would happen if she treated them like humans.

Hidden behind the dark depths of his eyes, muted respect shone through. He went back to his desk and held the dagger up over a piece of parchment. A single, red drop fell from the blade. The knife vanished from sight as Odbert picked up the parchment and read the words that had been written there.

When the goblin glanced at her again, his eyes darted to her finger which she had not healed or wrapped. There had been no need with the efficiency of the goblin. He turned to her and continued to speak in his native tongue, "Welcome, Countess."

She inclined her head, but did not repeat her request.

"Your cup. How have you come to know it is not in your vaults?"

"Does that matter, Odbert? It is not your job to figure out how I know what I know. I wish it back and you will procure it for me, no matter where it currently resides." Besides, she didn't want anyone's attention falling onto Luna.

"I will not be able to tell you which vault it resides in and which family has it."

"I care not for what you cannot do. However, my patience is waning." Her eyes narrowed and finally her smile slipped off her face.

"Recompense will need to be had, if what you say has truly come to pass."

"I expect nothing less. What will you offer for the waste of my time and the error of your people, Odbert?"

There. Humor and respect had removed any anger still residing in the goblin.

"Though we cannot tell you who has taken possession of your artifact, if anyone has, they will pay from their own coffers for the time it has resided in the incorrect vault. And to ensure that nothing of this sort will happen again, to any of our patrons, protections will be put in place and shown to you so you may see for yourself what the Great Bank of Gringotts has to offer."

Helga hummed, pausing to break eye contact with Odbert for the first time. "While I am gratified that the party who caused this will pay and that your honorable bank will ensure that an act similar will never happen again," she looked once more at Odbert who now held eagerness in his posture, "I expect something more from such an esteemed vendor for this happening under their roof. Surely you understand."

"And what, Countess, is it you request from us?"

"Am I right in my understanding that your people have been wishing to regain the sword that King Ragnuk created for Godric Gryffindor?"

Odbert studied Helga with intensity. "It is true, as the sword belongs to the goblins by right of forge."

"Ah, in King Ragnuk's own words: 'The blade requested in friendship had been forged. In friendship the blade was handed over. Time specified not given. As such, by the right of forge, the blade belongs to the goblins.'"

"You know what was said, so why mention the deed?"

Helga snapped her fan closed. "In friendship the blade was forged, that is correct. However, Godric claimed the Right of Conquest which was honored by King Ragnuk. Godric won. I understand that time muddles the stories, so it can be understood how such an honorable race might have forgotten that fact."

"It is your word against an entire race."

"Word, oh dear me, I would not claim this if it was simply my word. I was there, Odbert. At every talk. Though Godric lost the title of friend to the goblin nation the moment he declared the Right of Conquest, I never lost such a right. I'm sure you saw as much on the parchment. Both Godric and King Ragnuk near demanded that I be present, and who am I to deny the request of a Great King?"

Helga had her fan vanish from her hand and she gently tucked her hair behind her ear. Most would not have seen the energetic energy vibrating from the goblin. The goblins may not have been at war in a while, but the goblins of the bank were still warriors. Though they were warriors much like Helga herself: warriors of words. And they, like her, enjoyed the sparring between two people conversing.

And they respected warriors like them. Especially if their opponents were better prepared and gave absolutely no quarter.

"And what do you propose that you are to do with the sword if the goblins agree to your condition of releasing any claim to the sword, even though it has been lost?"

"Me? Oh no, I have no intention of keeping the sword. As he had no wife or children to leave his possessions to, Godric left all he had to the school. The sword, specifically, he wished to lay dormant until Hogwarts had need of a warrior, and only those who are worthy. I merely wish to right a wrong that history has mangled." She smiled at Odbert. "If I am correct and my cup has been taken and tampered with, my terms are thus: I agree with money be taken from the ones who hid my possession and that the Honorable Gringotts Bank will add new protections that I will verify, as well as the goblin nation releasing any ownership over the blade of Godric Gryffindor, named Dìonadair agus Dìleas, for the rest of time."

"I cannot assure the last of your terms, Countess, but I will bring it forward to our king."

"Of course. I will provide the memories of the discussions which I will happily bring to you once I have my cup in my possession and I take it where I need to. However, Odbert, something to note. If all of my terms are not met, I will expect at the very least the first two offered by you and I will then take all of my belongings here in Gringotts and my business elsewhere."

"It is noted. Now, let me go see about your cup."

"Thank you, Odbert. I will await you here. Am I correct that this will not take long?"

"Of course not. We will see to this immediately and have it corrected swiftly."

"Excellent." She snapped open her fan and said nothing more. The goblin left and she heard him barking orders even before the door had been shut.

Helga shut her eyes and allowed herself a grin before controlling herself once more.

And so she waited.

After ten minutes, a table with refreshments appeared beside her and Helga put together a cup of tea and sipped the beverage with a contented sigh.

Thirty minutes later, Odbert returned with a black bag and an almost nauseous look on his face. Helga sent a message to her friends of her imminent arrival back at Hogwarts as Odbert said, "We have found your cup, Countess, but a foul magic clings to it. We can cleanse it, and if -"

"Oh, let me stop you there, Odbert. I thank you for doing as asked. I have the means to cleanse my possession myself. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must leave." She stood and placed the saucer and cup on the table. She waited until the goblin came to her and gave her the bag. Once she held the bag, she wrapped her magic around it to help contain the vileness coming from her cup. "I will, as promised, bring the memories within a day's time, at which time I expect an answer on the sword of Godric Gryffindor."

"I look forward to speaking with you again, Countess."

Helga inclined her head and went towards the now roaring fire that changed to the green of the floo. "As do I, Odbert." She paused at the fireplace and added, "And Odbert, I expect your people won't tell others who I am. In doing so Gringotts would be broadcasting that they do not care for the confidentiality that your people have painstakingly grown this bank upon. And if you decide to belittle the work of your ancestors," she glanced over her shoulder as her ring warmed and vibrated to smile at the goblin, "I will ensure that Gringotts is destroyed. Permanently."

Once she arrived back at Hogwarts she smiled at the professor. "Thank you again, Professor Snape. I have retrieved my cup and we can cleanse it. I do appreciate your assistance in this matter."

"You speak so cavalier about cleansing the cup, but the Headmaster…" Professor Snape's words tapered off. "Albus tends to lean towards the mysterious. Perhaps it can be a simple task."

"Sir?"

"Apologies, Miss Jones." Professor Snape shook his head, bringing his attention back to Helga and explained, "The Headmaster has a tendency to exaggerate... such as the cleansing of one of these items. Could it be possible that the process is a simple matter?"

"I see." Helga shook her head. "Cleansing these items... There has only been one way we found to do so. And it's only possible with my darling." Helga hummed softly in thought. "Sal and Ric will be going through the cleansing process, they're waiting for me in the laboratory." She held out her hand. "If you would like to join the two you may come along. I'm not suited to explain the process as I am unaware of the specifics."

Professor Snape barely hesitated when he placed his hand in hers. She grinned at the trust and took them to the laboratory where she was met with the sight of Rowena chuckling at her desk and Godric standing with his hands on his hips, fighting his own smile as he was faced by Bob.

The little dear was saying, "-job, Sir Gody! You leaves and Bob can't help Sir Gody! Bob is good house elf. Bob will take you to room."

Helga laughed and soon Ismanna's snout was pressed against her chest and hissing happily. She stroked her girl's nose and said to Bob, "I'm sure Ric will let you take him and Professor Snape to Sal." She turned to Professor Snape and held out the bag. "Would you give that to Ric or Sal when you three get to him?" She ignored the gobsmacked look on the professor's face as he gingerly took the bag and instead focused on her girl.

- - - - Bonus Scene - Salazar - - - -

Salazar had the vial prepared, his gloves already donned, and was waiting for the familiar feeling of his best friend's magic. What he was not expecting was the others to appear along with Godric. Thankfully Salazar recognized the magical signatures and relaxed. "Good evening, Professor." Salazar gestured to the vault when Bob popped away with a huff at Godric. "The cup?"

Godric raised his empty hands and Salazar frowned. He could feel the vile magic, dampened perhaps, but it was present. Before he could ask what happened, Snape raised a bag, and stated, "Miss Jones handed it to me before the house elf popped us here."

"Ah." Salazar gestured once again to the vault. "The door on the left will open for you. Please put the bag inside."

Snape set the bag on the stone floor and Salazar closed the door. When Snape stood looking into the windows, Godric tapped the man's arm and gestured. "You'll want to step away from the vault."

"Of course." Snape was frowning at the vault, but Salazar had no interest in his questions. There was foul magic that needed cleansing.

Once Salazar was sure the door was secure, he slipped the vial into the usual slot in the side of the door and allowed it to slide closed once more. Salazar removed his gloves and warned Snape, "This will be unpleasant your first time."

The vial shattered when it hit the stone floor and the accelerant went to work immediately. The gas filled the vault and Snape instinctively stepped back. Next came the piercing scream. It didn't matter how many times he experienced it, it was never easy to hear. Still, one more item needed cleansing, but his brother would have to wait.

"What..." Snape stepped closer to the door once the fumes dissipated. He was smart enough not to reach for the door, but he did peer inside both windows. The famous 'heirlooms of the founders' were lying on the stone floor - with the exception of Godric's sword. "What did you do?" Snape finally asked as he looked at Salazar.

"Basilisk venom. Ismanna destroyed the first one we found." Salazar gestured towards the destroyed book.

"The diary the aurors have been looking for?"

"The same," Salazar agreed and pointed out the others. "Rowena's diadem. My grandfather's locket. Helga's father's cup. The Peverell ring."

"Peverell? I thought it was the Gaunt's?" Snape crouched to get a better look at it.

"It was, but it belonged to the Peverell family first," Godric yawned as he leaned against the vault, "that is their insignia."

Snape stood when he saw Godric's yawn. "Have you not been sleeping well?"

Godric just blinked at the man in surprise. "I have. Better than I had been in my tower, at least."

"It's past his bedtime," Salazar teased. Godric stuck his tongue out at Salazar, but he ignored his best friend. "You had questions, Professor."

It wasn't a question but Snape nodded, "You said basilisk venom. Venom is not a gas." The professor hadn't asked a question so Salazar left him to his thoughts. "You didn't have to enclose it if you would simply use the venom, but if you were to use the venom directly on the object, the object would be destroyed along with the magic and soul fragment. You dropped the vial onto the stone floor allowing it to shatter. From what I witnessed, the cup was not destroyed, yet the bag it had been contained in was. Why? If the bag is destroyed, why was the cup not destroyed, and if the Dark Lord's magic was protected enough not to be destroyed, how can you be certain it is truly cleansed?"

"Well reasoned, Professor." Snape rolled his eyes and Salazar chuckled. "We tested it first on the diadem. Whatever spell it is that creates the artifact is technically still on the items, the soul could not survive the basilisk gas. The reason for putting it into the vault to be cleansed is so the soul fragment does not have the chance to take on a new host before it is destroyed completely."

"So the artifact isn't really cleansed?" Snape asked, his tone was filled with dangerous intent.

Salazar smirked. "The soul is no longer in the items. If someone were to attempt to recreate the artifact, they could - in theory - use the majority of those items. It wouldn't work, but they could try."

"Why?" Snape looked at the items in question and asked, "If the magic is still in the items, why wouldn't it work?"

"Because, like Godric's sword, those items are made with goblin metals... the moment the soul tried to latch on, it would be instantly destroyed."

Google Translate Time:

Dìonadair agus Dìleas = Protector and Faithful