The late afternoon sun was sinking low in the sky as Hermione quietly slipped out of the manor, cradling Harry in her arms. The warm breeze whispered through the leaves, but her mind was far from the peaceful surroundings. After putting Neville down for his nap, she had made her decision, and now, with a determined set to her jaw, she was headed to Gringotts.
When she arrived at the grand marble entrance of the bank, the imposing architecture did little to soothe her nerves. The gleaming white stone seemed to loom over her as she walked inside, Harry's small, trusting weight nestled against her chest. The goblins' sharp eyes followed her every move as she made her way to the front desk, where she politely requested an audience with Grimthorn, a high-ranking goblin she had met the previous day.
Moments later, she found herself ushered into Grimthorn's office, the door closing with a soft click behind her. The room was dimly lit, the walls lined with ancient tomes and ornate, twisted metalwork. Grimthorn himself sat behind a large, intricately carved desk, his sharp eyes glinting as they settled on her.
Hermione took a deep breath, trying to calm the flutter of anxiety in her chest. "Thank you for seeing me again today."
Grimthorn nodded solemnly before steepling his stubby fingers together. "Miss Granger, we need to get the Horcrux out of him, but without hurting him. Are you ready for the challenge?"
"I am."
The goblin's expression darkened, and he exchanged a glance with one of his assistants standing by the door. "You understand the seriousness of what we're asking?" he said slowly, his voice laced with the weight of ancient knowledge and customs.
"I do," Hermione replied, her grip tightening slightly on Harry. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't have faith that you could help him."
Grimthorn leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing as he studied her. "We will need to take the child away for a time," he said finally, his voice clipped. "The process is delicate, and we cannot have you present."
Hermione's heart skipped a beat. "Take him away?" Her voice was strained, the thought of being separated from Harry filling her with dread. She tightened her hold on Harry, who wriggled in her grasp. "How long will it take?"
"That depends," Grimthorn replied, his tone unyielding. "The ritual requires absolute precision. It may take hours, perhaps longer. We will make him sleep first, using a burning herb that will induce a deep unconsciousness."
Hermione swallowed hard, her mind racing with a thousand worries. The thought of handing Harry over to anyone—even the goblins, whom she respected—made her skin crawl with unease. But this was his best chance, perhaps his only chance, to be free of the dark magic that lingered within him.
She took a shaky breath, her eyes meeting Grimthorn's. "I'll trust you with him," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Her heart pounded in her chest as she carefully handed Harry over to the goblin assistant who approached her.
Harry stirred slightly in his sleep, his tiny hand clutching at the fabric of her robes for a moment before he was gently taken away from her. Hermione watched, her stomach churning, as the goblins prepared the ritual, lighting the burning herbs that filled the room with a pungent, acrid smoke.
The assistant held the smoke near Harry's face, and Harry's eyelids fluttered and then closed, his small body going limp in the goblin's arms. Hermione's heart clenched painfully at the sight, but she forced herself to stay composed. This was for Harry's own good.
Grimthorn's eyes flickered over her, noticing her tension. "You may wait outside," he instructed, his voice leaving no room for argument. "We will inform you when it is done."
Hermione nodded, her throat tight as she turned and walked out of the office, leaving Harry in the hands of the goblins. The door closed behind her with a soft click, the sound echoing in the now empty hallway.
As she sat down on a cold, hard bench just outside the office, the weight of what she had just done settled heavily on her shoulders. The minutes stretched into what felt like hours as she stared at the door, her mind filled with a mix of fear and hope. She had to trust them, had to believe that they would bring Harry back to her, safe and free of the dark burden he carried.
But the waiting was unbearable, and each passing moment only deepened the gnawing anxiety that twisted in her chest. All she could do was wait, and hope, and pray that she had made the right choice.
The minutes dragged on, and Hermione's anxiety grew with each passing second. She began pacing the hallway outside Gripthorn's office, her steps quick and restless. Her mind raced with a dozen different thoughts, each one more worrying than the last. What if something went wrong? What if the goblins couldn't remove the Horcrux without harming Harry? The questions swirled in her head like a storm, refusing to settle.
She bit down on her lower lip, chewing at the skin until it was raw. Her hands trembled slightly as she twisted them together, her anxiety manifesting in nervous fidgets. Absentmindedly, she started gnawing on her thumb, her teeth worrying the nail as she continued to pace.
So lost in her thoughts, Hermione didn't notice the figure approaching until a voice cut through the silence.
"Hermione?"
She jumped slightly, her heart leaping into her throat as she turned to see Frank standing at the end of the hallway. He looked perplexed, his brow furrowed as he took in the sight of her pacing.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, his confusion evident in his tone.
Hermione hesitated, her thoughts spinning as she tried to figure out what to say. Frank's sudden appearance had thrown her off balance, and for a moment, she wasn't sure how much she could—or should—tell him. But the concern in his eyes made her decision for her.
Taking a deep breath, she stopped pacing and forced herself to meet his gaze. "Harry's with the goblins," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "There's an issue with his scar."
Frank's expression shifted from confusion to concern, his eyes narrowing slightly. "His scar? What kind of issue?" he asked. "And why would you bring him to the goblins for that? Shouldn't he be at St. Mungo's?"
Hermione glanced around the hallway, her eyes scanning for any sign of eavesdroppers. The corridors were empty, but she wasn't about to take any chances. With a flick of her wand, she cast a quick silencing charm around them, ensuring that no one would overhear their conversation.
Leaning in closer to Frank, she dropped her voice even lower. "Harry's scar… it's not just a scar. It's connected to dark magic. Powerful dark magic," she explained, her words deliberate and cautious. "The goblins are trying to get rid of it, but it's dangerous. That's why I brought him here."
Frank's eyes widened slightly, his confusion deepening. "Dark magic? What do you mean? How can a scar be—" He cut himself off, his mind already working to piece together the implications of her words.
Hermione nodded, understanding his disbelief. "It's complicated," she admitted, her voice tinged with a mix of frustration and fear. "But I couldn't take him to St. Mungo's. The goblins… they have ways of dealing with things that wizards don't."
Frank stared at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. She could see the questions swirling in his eyes, the concern etched into every line of his face. He was trying to process what she had just told him, trying to understand the gravity of the situation.
Frank's curiosity was evident as he stood next to Hermione, his gaze locked on her with an intensity she found unsettling. The silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken questions. Finally, he broke the silence.
"What type of dark magic?" he asked, his tone more demanding than before.
Hermione hesitated, biting her lip as she tried to find the right words. She knew the truth was too horrifying to reveal completely, but Frank deserved some kind of explanation. "It's nothing any child should ever suffer with," she said quietly, her voice tinged with a mix of sorrow and anger. "Especially not Harry or Neville."
Frank's eyes narrowed at her words, and his expression darkened. He took a step closer, his posture suddenly tense. "Are you threatening Neville?" he asked, his voice sharp, defensive.
The accusation hit Hermione like a slap to the face, and she recoiled, her shock quickly giving way to anger. "What?!" she exclaimed, her voice rising in disbelief. "How dare you even suggest that! I would never—" She stopped herself, shaking her head as she struggled to control her temper. But the offense was too great, and the words spilled out before she could stop them. "If you think for one second that I'm here to harm Harry or Neville, then you can just piss off!"
Her outburst echoed through the empty corridor, the force of her words startling Frank. He stared at her, wide-eyed, his defensive stance crumbling in the face of her fury. For a moment, he was too stunned to speak, his mind reeling from the sheer intensity of her anger.
When he finally found his voice, it was hesitant, shaky. "Hermione, I—I'm sorry," he stammered, his usual confidence nowhere to be found. "I didn't mean to… I just don't know how to trust you."
Hermione's anger began to simmer down, replaced by a wave of exhaustion and frustration. She stared at him, her chest heaving from the emotional outburst. "You don't know how to trust me?" she repeated, her voice softer now, laced with disbelief. "Frank, I saved you. I've been taking care of Neville like he was my own son. How can you not trust me after everything?"
Frank ran a hand through his hair, clearly struggling to articulate his thoughts. "It's not that I don't appreciate what you've done," he said slowly, choosing his words carefully. "It's just… everything's so confusing. You came out of nowhere, and you know so much, and now there's Harry with this… dark magic. I don't know what to think. I'm trying to protect Neville, and you're the one taking care of him, but I don't even know you."
Hermione's expression softened slightly at his words, understanding dawning. She could see the struggle in his eyes, the wariness of a man who had lost so much and was terrified of losing more.
"I understand," she said, her voice gentle now. "I know it's hard, and I know I must seem like an outsider. But Frank, I swear to you, I would never do anything to harm Neville or Harry. They're both so important to me, more than you could ever know."
Frank looked at her, his gaze searching her face for any sign of deception. But all he found was sincerity, and it made his shoulders sag with the weight of his own doubt. "I believe you," he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just don't know how to let my guard down. Not after everything."
Hermione nodded, her anger fully dissipated now. "I get it," she said, her tone understanding. "But you have to try, Frank. For Neville's sake. For Harry's."
Frank took a deep breath, letting her words sink in. "I'll try," he promised, though his voice was still tinged with uncertainty. "But if anything happens…"
She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, her voice cool and controlled as she spoke. "You really don't know when to stop, do you? I can't believe you'd think I would ever hurt Neville."
Frank winced at her words, guilt written plainly across his face. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice low and filled with genuine regret. "I didn't mean to doubt you. I just—" He took a deep breath, struggling to find the right words. "I just can't bear the thought of anything happening to Neville. He's all I have left."
Hermione's expression softened, though her tone remained firm. "Frank, I would never wish any harm on Neville. He's my friend, first and foremost. You need to understand that."
Frank nodded, his shame evident. "I do, I do. I was out of line. I'm just so afraid of losing him. And with everything going on… I panicked."
Hermione sighed, her anger beginning to melt away as she saw the sincerity in his eyes. "I get that you're scared. But you have to trust me. I'm not your enemy, Frank."
He looked down, clearly chastened. "I know. I'm sorry."
For a moment, there was an awkward silence between them, broken only by the soft sounds of Hermione's pacing. She was about to say something else when, almost absentmindedly, she added, "And if it hadn't been Harry with that scar… it would have been Neville."
Frank's head snapped up, alarm flashing in his eyes. "What do you mean by that?" he asked, his voice suddenly sharp with concern.
Hermione opened her mouth to explain, but before she could get the words out, the door to the goblin's office creaked open. Two goblins emerged, one of them gently holding a quietly sniffling Harry in his arms. Harry had a lollipop in his mouth, his eyes slightly red from whatever ordeal he had just been through, but there was a calmness in his demeanor. Hermione's breath caught in her throat as she realized what was missing: the scar. It was gone.
The goblins exchanged a glance, their expressions serious as they approached Hermione. The one holding Harry looked directly at her and then briefly at Frank before returning his gaze to her. "It's done," he said solemnly.
Hermione felt a wave of relief crash over her. She quickly stepped forward and took Harry into her arms, holding him tightly as she pressed her cheek against his soft, dark hair. Tears of relief welled up in her eyes, and she laughed softly as she felt Harry snuggle into her embrace.
Harry, his lollipop still in his mouth, pulled back slightly and offered it to Hermione with a small, toothy smile. "Nymmy?" he mumbled, his tiny voice muffled by the candy.
Hermione let out a choked laugh, her tears flowing freely now. "No, sweetheart, that's yours," she said, kissing the top of his head. "But thank you for sharing."
The goblins, their task complete, gave Hermione a respectful nod before retreating back into their office. As they disappeared behind the heavy door, a deep sense of gratitude and relief overwhelmed Hermione. The ordeal was over, and Harry was safe.
She looked down at the little boy in her arms, her heart swelling with emotion. "We did it, Harry," she whispered, her voice thick with tears. "You're safe now."
Harry, oblivious to the gravity of what had just happened, simply smiled up at her, content in her arms. Hermione kissed his forehead once more, and though the memory of their earlier argument lingered, for the moment, all that mattered was that Harry was okay.