Psycho Killer
15th of December 1994 - Hogwarts library
"Ms Hermione Granger," a gruff, if soft voice pulled Hermione from her studies. This was a necessity, since even the visiting student soon learned that speaking within the library in any but the softest of voices meant being kicked out.
"Victor!" Hermione enthusiastically answered - in a whisper. "Can I help you? Do you need help finding a specific book?"
For a moment Krum was surprised by the book in front of her. "What are you studying?" he asked intrigued.
"Geography," Hermione answered. She then looked around and pulled him to the corridor outside the library. Being barred from studying there was not what she needed at the moment.
"It's a normal course I take for my GCSEs," she explained, and Krum looked even more confused than before.
He got a hold of himself, though, and stood straighter. "Would you come to the Yule Ball with me, Ms Granger?" he asked quite formally.
A kind smile came to Hermione's face. A slightly sad one. "I would have loved to," she answered, "but I've already been invited and accepted."
Victor slouched, looking disappointed and a little lost. He grimaced when a girl from Slytherin walked past and giggled.
"Don't you have friends from your own school?" Hermione asked sympathetically.
Krum's frown deepened. "The few who came with us are not friends," he answered. "I don't want to go with a fan," he added quietly. Another giggling girl, this time a Gryffindor, demonstrated just why he said the word 'fan' with such scorn.
Hermione scowled at the girl. It probably gave the girl some wrong ideas since she scowled right back. "Would you like me to introduce you to a few nice girls?" she asked.
Victor's surly expression softened at this. Just a little…
The Great Hall
"Good Evening chérie*," Fleur announced herself. She hugged Harry lightly, kissing both his cheeks. She then hugged Hermione, kissing her cheeks as well - much more tenderly. She then set herself on Hermione's other side and frowned at the table.
"What is all this?" she asked.
"Well, we have steak-an'-kidney pie," Harry pointed at the dishes in front of them. "Pork pie, toad-in-a-hole, bangers-an'-mash, which also go with the Yorkshire pudding, and chicken-tikka-masala," he kept pointing at the various dishes.
"All traditional English dishes," Hermione explained.
A little down the table, Parvati nodded in agreement. "You can then have spotted dick for afters," she suggested helpfully.
Fleur made a cute disgusted face. Her enthusiasm was soon back, though. "Would you go to the ball with me?" she asked Hermione with a bright smile.
"Already been invited," Hermione replied calmly.
"Bof*," Fleur shrugged indifferently. "They can come with me too, to help keep you warm for Malina," she stated. "And buttered!" she added impishly.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "I can introduce you to some nice blokes, who would be glad to go with you," she offered, just as she did for Krum.
Up and down the Gryffindor table, as well as at the neighbouring ones, people looked at her hopefully.
Fleur snorted in response, in a most unladylike way - Clearly amused.
"I'll let you come to the ball with me," Ron offered the moment Hermione entered the common room after dinner. He got some incredulous stares from the people around for this. "What, she's a girl?!" he complained loudly, to earn even more stares.
"She has already been invited," Lavender told him.
"No she wasn't?" Ron waved her off. "She just said that to get the barmy French bint off her back," he explained to everyone who listened. By now, it was most people in the common room.
"She was invited," stressed another girl. It was the giggling-yet-scowling one from the corridor outside the library. "I've seen Krum inviting her!"
This made an impression on the listening crowd. Sound of 'Oww's and 'Oh's and a few 'Boo's were heard. Hermione had to cut this in the bud.
"And I turned him down too," she explained calmly. "By the way," she then turned to Ron. "I can't introduce you to him, sorry," she told him sweetly. "He's looking to go with someone who isn't a fan," she then snapped.
Ron got all red in the face. It wasn't clear whether this was anger or embarrassment. Soon enough he disappeared up the stairs to his dorm.
21st of December 1994 - The Great Hall
The Party was going on for a couple of hours now. It all started as a rather stuffy dinner party. Food was exquisite, but both Harry and Hermione felt a tad sorry for their friends, who had to sit at the Minister's table. That's the life of a Champion, though. One day you fight your way around a nesting Dragon. Next you need to waltz around under everyone's watching eyes.
Harry and Hermione did try to waltz some and had a pretty decent time doing so, but waltzing isn't as exhilarating as it's presented sometimes. They then changed partners for a while. There was a queue of girls waiting for a chance to have a dance with Harry. He was the Famous Boy-who-Lived after all.
Hermione's dance card wasn't empty either. Krum wanted a dance - He was quite dashing on the dance floor. He certainly lost his ever present slouch. There were a few more friends happy to take their turns till she was grabbed by Fleur and was being led around the dance floor ever since.
"Enjoying your time, Mr Potter?" a voice pulled Harry from watching his friend dancing.
"Elvis!" he smiled, when he noticed the Friar floating next to him. "A bit quaint," he added, and motioned at the band and the dancing students.
The Friar seemed to be in agreement. "Ask the room to play some Alteran opera for you," he offered.
"Shame electricity doesn't work around magic," Harry sighed. "Otherwise, we could have had a party here with some real music." It took Harry a moment to realise he wasn't getting a response. He glanced at the Friar to see him staring back at him with a raised smoky eyebrow and chuckled.
"Sorry," he corrected himself now amused. "Why is it known that electricity doesn't work around magic?" he asked.
"You should thank Merlin," came the somewhat bitter answer. It took the Friar a long moment before he moved to his teacher's tone - "The main reason is that the closest electricity line to Hogwarts is well across the forest, some seventy miles from here," he finally reached the real answer. "Then, there's the fact that the early electricity grid was a shady thing and susceptible to interference. By the time the grid was robust enough, everyone already knew that it didn't work," he went on.
"So you can use electricity here?" Harry wanted to verify.
The Friar shrugged. Then took a long mouthful of his bear. "It's electronics that have an issue with magic," he explained. "These need to be shielded."
It was at this point that Hermione appeared in their company. She was a tad flushed and had a smile on, which looked a little dreamy and hopeful. "Hi Elvis," she greeted the Friar happily. "What are you talking about?"
"Alteran opera," the Friar stated.
"And the way to bring in a decent sound system to hold a proper party," Harry added. This caught Hermione's attention. "Shielding," Harry went on and explained.
"Faraday cage?" she asked, quite surprised.
"Conductive enclosure," Harry had to explain this to the bewildered Friar, who couldn't have possibly known just who, or what, was 'Faraday'.
The Friar smiled approvingly.
"But, how do we get power in Hogwarts?" Hermione dispirited some.
It was Hermione now, who got the raised eyebrow treatment. "How do you make electricity?" the Friar asked her.
"A generator," she shrugged.
"Which is?" Harry asked further. Hermione wasn't usually this slow. Must be all the dancing.
Hermione was a little wide eyed now. "So all we need is an alternator, and charm it to spin?" she asked incredulously?
The friar smiled approvingly again. He really liked these two kids.
"And a Faraday cage," Harry offered helpfully.
"You do know you can just summon a room with all that?" the Friar offered helpfully.
"Right mate," Harry answered. "Reckon exposing the whole school to a room which can lead anywhere in the castle, including the control room and Faculty private quarters is such a brilliant idea?"
The Friar grimaced over another sip of beer.
The ball went on for a while. It was slightly after midnight and almost at the Portrait when Harry stopped their walk back. "Thank you for coming to the ball with me," he told his friend softly.
Hermione glanced up and smiled a little. "Look," she said, pointing up - "Mistletoe!"
Harry chuckled softly. The castle was decorated to the extent that one would have a hard time trying not to stand under some mistletoe. When he lowered his face, though, he was met with soft lips.
"Thanks for inviting me," she answered, then hugged him warmly. "You're a wonderful friend," she added, just as softly.
Harry was used to Hermione's hugs by now. Still, there was something about this one - something warm and intimate.
Neither said anything more, walking into the common room and up to their dormitories.
Breakfast is known to be the most important meal of the day. Not a reason to make a meal of it. Harry was sitting at the table, having some tea and toasts, waiting for meal-time to be over and for most of the school to head to Hogsmeade and the train to London. Christmas was coming.
He was in a good mood and hummed to himself softly.
Across the table, Hermione was amused with his choice of a song. She joined him in humming.
Next to them and down the table sat the rest of their friends, looking at them with clear bewilderment, though Dean was nodding to the beat.
"Morning Potty," an unliked and unwelcomed voice came from behind Harry's back. Harry's only reaction was a slight smile towards Hermione. He kept to his song though. By now, Hermione joined him.
"I do feel sorry for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they don't have a home or family," the voice went on.
Harry kept to his song, now adding the lyrics.
You start a conversation, you can't even finish it
You're talking a lot, but you're not saying anything
"Are you going to go berserk on us?" Draco went on asking.
It was time for Hermione so sing her lines -
When I have nothing to say, my lips are sealed
Say something once, why say it again?
People around started noticing. Most were amused, some were confused. A few, mostly muggleborns, joined in and hummed with them.
"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood," Draco told Hermione, now, quite annoyed. The singing went on, louder -
Psycho Killer
Qu'est-ce que c'est?
Harry and Hermione sang together, smiling.
"You're gonna regret this!" Draco warned them.
By now, several others joined the singing -
Fa-fa-fa-fa, fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa, better,
Dean sang loudly.
"Wait 'til my father hears about this!" Draco snapped, and went back to the Slytherin table with a huff.
Run, run, run, run, run, run, run away!
People were now singing loudly at most house-tables, and the great hall was soon swamped with laughter.
Hogsmeade station
A shivering crowd of school children disembarked the line of carriages at the station. Each and every carriage was pulled by a single Thestral. December in the Highlands was cold, but this wasn't the reason for all this shivering. The Dementors were. Ever since this summer, travelling from and to Hogwarts could only be done by carriage and wasn't a pleasant experience at all.
Harry and friends were riding one of the last carriage out of the castle, having lingered behind to say their goodbyes to their visiting friends. Harry went forward to pet the Thestral, who was pulling their carriage. He patted his head, while the kind beast ate the meat Harry brought for it from the kitchens.
"So strange to pet an invisible animal, " Hermione mumbled, running her hand over the Thestral's soft skin and over its protruding ribs.
A bell, at the station, rang the ten minute signal.
"We should head to the train and out of the cold," she then offered.
It was getting even colder now. The kind of coldness that touched on your soul and magic. Not one affecting skin and bones only. The kind of coldness Harry found familiar. Comforting even. Some cries of fear sounded from the train's direction. It was only when they reached the platform that the source of it all became apparent.
Hermione grabbed onto Harry's arm, pointing her wand at the towering figure in front of them with a shaky hand. The words 'Expecto Patronum' were in her mind and on her tongue, knowing well that the one time she tried, she couldn't make this spell work.
Harry looked at the Dementor in front of them with some interest. One of his hands was held by Hermione. The other swished a small curved knife.
"You are still here," Harry told the Dementor calmly.
"We told you before," the Dementor answered. "We will never go back."
Dementors don't really have voices. They are heard as a crowd of people whispering in one's mind. It made Hermione shiver and hold on to Harry's arm even harder. Harry, on his part, tilted his head a little and nodded. For him, it sounded a little similar to Beelzebub, albeit, the prince-of-hell had actual voices to speak with.
"I have sent a word to him. I'm just the messenger."
The Dementor approached them a little more, now looming over them. "We have sent him emissaries too," his voices whispered. "Told him to keep away from our land."
This made Harry scuff. He was now wearing his too-wide smile, which more often than not meant he was about to do or say something utterly daft. Hermione, though, was too busy being scared stiff to say, never-mind do, anything about it.
"Rodolphus and Bellatrix?" Harry asked. "What an inspiring present! Did Rabastan use all this kerfuffle to run away?"
The Dementor didn't answer in a way that made it clear that Rabastan Lestrange's escape was no accident. He took another step forward.
Hermione hid behind Harry shivering with cold and fear. "Expecto Patronum," she whispered, pointing her shaky wand at the Dementor, but not even vapour came out.
Harry lost his smile. "You have no right to keep all these souls from their rightful destinies," he commented, conversationally.
The Dementor seemed to be angry now. "This is our fiefdom!" his many whispering voices shouted in their mind.
Behind Harry's back, Hermione whimpered. Harry's smile crept back on. "Is it, though?" he asked. "Reckon she will be happy?"
This proved to be too much for the Dementor. He leaned towards Harry, reaching out with his hands to grab for Harry's head. In Harry's mind, voices shouted at him, Laughed at him, and despised him. It was nothing Harry didn't already live through. He took a step forward. His right hand flashed forward and up. The many many voices in Hermione and Harry's heads now lost their unity. Some called in Delight; Some cried out in Despair; Some just whimpered as they faded into nothingness, being too far gone to survive. Around the now-dispersing cluster of souls, the Dementor's body dissipated. Only a pile of rags was left behind. All around Hogsmeade the cold intensified as his kinsfolk looked on from above.
"He said 'come home'!" Harry repeated levelly. Soon enough, there were no more Dementors in and about Hogsmeade.
"Thank you," a soft warm voice whispered at the back of his mind. "When the time comes - prey," the voice added. Harry felt a light touch on his shoulder and the presence was no more.
12 Grimmauld Plc
"Oh no you don't!" Hermione's voice came from a floor above and made Harry and Sirius rush up the stairs and into the library.
Hermione was standing there, furious, blocking Remus' way to the bookshelf he was clearing.
"Move aside, Hermione," Remus asked patiently. "You can ask Sirius' permission to access the library once it's safe," he then offered.
"What's happening here?" Sirius asked, noticing the opened trunk and the empty spaces on several of the shelves.
"Just going through the library to clear out some of the books," Remus explained, as if nothing. "I helped Dumbledore last time he did the Hogwarts library - I still remembered his instructions," He explained and tried to resume his work. He found Hermione still in his way. "Please let me do my work here? Don't you have your own rooms to clear?"
Hermione stayed put. "Hogwarts library was purged?" she asked, quite disgusted with the thought.
Harry rolled his eyes at that. "Merlin was the first to do so," he reminded her.
Remus took this as an affirmation. "Please?"
Sirius, for one, found it to be amusing. "My great grandfather followed. Many of the books he purged from the Hogwarts library found their mysterious way here," he told them. He then sobered a little. "Listen Moony," he turned to his friend. "Merlin knows I hate my family?"
Remus nodded to this gladly.
"But one of the very few things they did right was the hoarding of knowledge. The books stay." he concluded.
"Padfoot!" Remus complained. "There is dark knowledge here. Forbidden knowledge. These books are dangerous!" he stressed.
"There where one burns books, one in the end burns men," Hermione quoted darkly.
"If you're into burning men, there's a book in there, which will help you make some profit from it," Remus remarked bitterly.
"Right," Harry agreed. "Especially if you're into dissecting humans!" he joked.
Naturally, Remus didn't get the joke. He turned towards his friend rather taken aback. "They're Dangerous! He stressed once more, pointing at the open chest in front of him.
"That's why we're paying Bill," Sirius tried to placate his friend. "Just, it's the Black library, Moony? You can check out any time you like, but the books can never leave!" he tried his hand with a joke.
Remus scoffed in annoyance. Clearly not getting it.
"Look, Moony, we'll lock this place up till Bill gets here, right? Then we can maybe move some of these to the head-of-house only library, like?" he offered, trying to placate his friend. Remus was about to say something, but Sirius stopped him with a motion. "Kreacher!" he shouted.
"Nasty wayward master called?"
"What are you up to?" Sirius asked impatiently.
"Kreacher is cleaning," the elf mumbled. "Kreacher lives to serve the noble house of Black – "
"Brilliant!" Sirius stated, cutting the elf short. "Make sure the library is spotless by tomorrow morning." He then led them all towards the door.
"Master Sirius ran away, shame he came back, for he was a bad boy and broke my Mistress's heart with his lawless ways," they all heard Kreacher mumble behind their backs.
Initially Sirius was furious. He then took a deep breath and turned to face the old elf.
"Live to serve the noble house of Black, are you?" he asked bitterly.
Kreacher looked down. "Blood-traitor…" he might have whispered. Sirius disregarded it.
"I want this library to be as spotless as it used to be during my father's and Grandfather's days," he ordered. "Because it looks to me like you live to serve the minor house of Crabbe," he added coldly. He then left the room without another word or a glance at Kreacher's way.
Behind his back and the now-closed and locked door Kreacher stood upright and looked around. "Kreacher cleans…" he mumbled.
"Thank you for helping me with this during your holidays," Sirius offered, as they entered the fourth-floor parlour.
Remus was asked to the ground-floor's drawing room to help Bill. Unsurprisingly, there were many objects in there, in need of Bill's and Remus' expertise. Bill will hopefully reach the library the next day. The three of them, meanwhile, planned to cover the parlour, with its many display cabinets. Hopefully, they will manage to sort the truly dangerous artefacts here, from the simply ugly ones, from the few and far between nice ones, by the time Bill will be able to reach the room. They might even clean the place up, but this was nothing but a pipe dream.
Meanwhile, the Tonks family were labouring together, trying to clean the second and third floor bedrooms from infestations of magical pests and plain dust and grime.
A shout came up from there. Someone then called 'Ridiculous!" Seemed like they had it well in hand.
"Not that I mind," Harry commented. "This house brings the whole south of the borough down. Now that I've already paid for my flat, I'd be delighted with it being cleansed. But, didn't you say if you didn't visit the place till the end of your days it would be too soon?"
"Malfoys," Sirius answered with a heavy sigh. He then hurried and stopped Hermione's and Harry's objections with a motion. "Rabastan visited the Malfoy home on Christmas eve. Dear Lucius didn't survive it," he added. "Narcissa didn't elaborate, but I understand it was quite gruesome."
Hermione wanted to say something, but couldn't find any sympathy in herself for Draco or his father.
"So we're wasting our holiday for Malfoy?" Harry was shocked.
"What? No!" Sirius objected. "Narcissa is family," he tried to explain. "I'm responsible for her. You're doing this for me - I can't stomach her and her little twit staying in my flat for much longer."
Harry smirked. He could easily understand Sirius. "Let's have this place cleaned?" He offered.
For a while they worked in silence, each one going through a different cabinet, cleaning shelf after shelf and object after object. From time to time they called Sirius to rerun detection spells on one artefact or another. The chest, in the centre of the room, containing the suspiciously cursed items was getting quite full by then.
Harry was going through an extra dirty shelf when he heard Hermione gasp.
"Sirius!" she called.
Sirius ran the charm and cursed. He levitated the whatever object, which made him and Hermione cautious, to the warded stone basin for destruction. He cursed again, much more vividly this time, when his vanishing spell ricocheted to make a neat round hole in the ceiling's plaster. Luckily, both him and Hermione were keeping away from the basin. Vanishing spells won't harm living bodies, but will vanish clothes and hair. At least as long as these are not charmed against it, they will.
"Keep away - I'll call Bill," He warned them both and headed to the door. He was stopped before reaching it - first by the sound of a knife stabbing something. Then by loud wail coming from behind his back. Sirius turned in alarm to see a smoky shade of a human escaping the stabbed locket.
"What?!" he managed.
It was the shade which did the wailing. He was a young man, seemingly in his early twenties. By the time Sirius managed a good look at him, he was already fading - clearly not about to stay as a permanent ghost. This was good news, since Sirius needed the house ready. People still proficient in exorcism were few and expensive to hire these days.
Harry waved his left hand at the fading shade, though, and it reformed. Sirius could have a good look at it now - he was looking more solid than any other ghost he had ever seen. He was dark haired and aristocratic looking, dressed in simple, yet good quality clothes, which were relatively modern, if a tad old-fashioned. It was the shade's face, however, which was the true curiosity. These were an unflattering combination of pride, confusion, hate, and mostly - fear.
"Who are you?!" the shade demanded. Doing its best to compose itself.
Harry was grinning now. "Nevermind that," he dismissed the shade's question. "When you join with the rest of you, tell him 'only one to go'"
"What…" the shade insisted. On his face, only fear was left.
Harry didn't wait for his question. With another wave of his hand, the shade dissipated to nothingness. He then sighed heavily, when he noticed both Hermione and Sirius staring at him. Hermione with huge eyes. Sirius with very narrow ones.
This was the day before Harry and Hermione needed to head back to school. A perfect day for some last minute shopping, a visit with friends, and an emergency meeting with a Goblin, as it turned out.
Mrs Apolline Delacour and Manager Silverbag sat across the large mahogany desk and stared impassively at each other. Apparently, there was no love lost between Goblins and the Veela clans. There was a healthy dose of respect there, though.
Sirius commented regarding and soon Hedwig was winging her way towards Central Europe with a delicately worded letter to the Veela elder they encountered during the world cup. Same evening the bell rang to reveal the three Delacour women at the door.
"Mother asked me to help," Apolline stated simply. Evidently, when her mother asked, people obliged. An ugly portrait hanging across the hall from the door had something to say about this visit yet didn't survive the ball of fire.
Such a shame.
Harry nodded thankfully and with respect. A smirk then crept onto his face. "Truly!" he called. "Come see who's visiting."
"So you're the delightful little thing, which had cousin Malina so giddy," Apolline said warmly, raising Hermione's blushing face with a delicate finger. "Still too young," she added with some resignation. She then turned to Sirius, who was looking on with wide eyes. "I am tired from the journey, Mr Black," she told him. "You can take me to your room."
Behind her back a little silvery-blonde girl giggled.
The look on Sirius' face showed that not only did Christmas come early, it stayed late as well.
"Hermione!" Fleur called in delight, as soon as her mother started up the stairs. She hugged the embarrassed girl and kissed both her cheeks. Fleur then turned to Harry with a rather predatory look on her face. "Grandmother talks highly of you," she commented.
Harry nodded respectfully, at the mention of the elder Veela.
"She also said you know our Great aunt?" she asked.
This had Harry smirk a little. Small curved knives appeared in his hands and he swished those once - out of habit.
Fleur's face turned even more predatory. Her features elongated and sharpened. Light plumage grew along her arms and her fingernails grew longer and sharper. "Show me what you got!"
Harry's smile grew wider. "Basement's this way," he offered.
It was a little over a couple of hours later when they surfaced once more. Both Harry and Fleur were covered in sweat and a collection of cuts. The fact that both were still alive and didn't suffer any grave injury was a testament to both obvious abilities and restraints. Hermione no longer had any doubt about Fleur deserving her position as Beauxbatons' champion. Harry actually surprised her. Especially once he gave his magic a rest and focused on his knives. She now understood his habit of swishing those knives round his fingers for what it was - a threat.
Surprisingly, both came up invigorated. Fleur gave Hermione a hopeful yet a little sad look. She then grabbed Bill, who was just coming down the stairs after a long and tiring day of curse-breaking, on his way to the Floo.
"Come," she told him with inexplicable excitement. "You can wash my back first if you like!" He was then dragged back up the stairs with a slightly surprised smile on his face.
Hermione and Harry were looking up the stairs after them, when a light tug on their clothes pulled both their attention to the little blonde girl still there with them.
"Can you read me a story before bed?" she asked innocently. "Ermione can hug me…"
"To what do I owe the pleasure," Silverbag deadpanned. He was targeting this question towards Apolline, who pointed him at Harry.
"There is something dangerous in the Lestrange vault," Harry said softly.
The Goblin's face blanked hearing this. "Gringotts will not discuss account information with non-owners," he stated levelly.
"This is important," Harry whispered. He didn't know what else to say. This was an outside chance to begin with.
"Sir," Sirius decided to intervene. "The Lestranges are finished. Both Rodolphus and Bellatrix are dead. Rabastan is an escaped convict. He's about to be thrown through the Veil as soon as he's caught. I'm the closest blood relative to their family," he argued.
This didn't convince Silverbag much. "This is about what Mr Malfoy and the Minister tried to argue regarding the Black account a few years back," he answered calmly. "The day after young Mr Malfoy turned eleven in fact."
Sirius looked like he was about to argue some more, but Silverbag stopped him with a motion. "Visit again, once Mr Rabastan Lestrange has passed away, and you might have a legitimate stake then. Unless a valid testament declares otherwise."
Harry shrugged. It was worth trying. He will just have to hope that Law Enforcement will deal with Rabastan sooner, rather than later.
Sirius and he were about to thank Manager Silverbag for his time and move on with their plans for the day. Mrs Delacour, however, wasn't done just yet.
"Manager," she said politely, pulling everyone's attention to her. "I am told all this has something to do with our elder aunt," she remarked conversationally. "Can you please show him?" she then asked Harry.
Harry raised a surprised eyebrow.
'Our'?!
This was not something he ever thought to speak about. Veela and Goblins being related in some way was not something he would have considered too. He was asked by someone he himself inconvenienced to help with this, though, so…
On the palm of his left hand he presented the Manager with a small curved knife.
The Goblin blinked. He stared at the knife in front of him and blinked once more.
"If you could excuse me for just one moment?" he asked politely and walked out of the office, leaving his clients alone.
Sirius looked between Harry, the knife, and Mrs Delacour, not understanding just what had happened. Apolline winked his way in a way that showed he just might get lucky tonight as well.
"Our aunt?" Harry asked, voicing his question this time.
"Lilith," Mrs Delacour answered. "Mother of all beings of the night."
"She hates her," Harry whispered, mostly to himself.
"No one likes her, Mr Potter," the Manager just reentered the office once more. He was accompanied by another Goblin. One Harry was familiar with.
"Griphook," Harry called in surprise. "How are you doing?"
Griphook looked about uncomfortably. This was some distinguished company he was sent to speak with. "Mr Black, Milady," he nodded in their direction. He then turned back towards Harry. "I'm fine, Mr Potter. Thanks for asking." He then looked back towards the Manager.
With a slight motion of his head, the manager pointed Griphook back to their clients.
"Sirs," he said. "The night Lestrange escaped Azkaban he came here to Gringotts. I accompanied him to his family's Vault."
"Did he take anything out of the vault?" Sirius asked, leaning forward in his chair.
Silverbag shook his head minutely.
"I couldn't say," Griphook answered uncomfortably and Sirius frowned in disappointment. Harry didn't though.
"Did he drink from it?" he asked.
Griphook glanced at his superior again. "Mr Lestrange did ask me to bring him some water," he answered.
A shade of a smile came to Harry's face. "Did he drink it from a small golden goblet, with Helga Hufflepuff's sign on?"
Griphook was now even more uncomfortable. Silverbag shook his head slightly once more.
"I cannot confirm nor deny him drinking from such a distinctive object," Griphook answered stiffly.
The smile on Harry's face widened and turned rather predatory like. He closed his hand and secreted his knife in his belt and behind his back. "Thank you Griphook," he stated sternly. "You have been exceptionally unhelpful!"
Sirius frowned at this, but both Griphook and Managed Silverbag smirked. "Why, we pride ourselves on our cold and indifferent service," the manager deadpanned.
Goblins have a sense of humour? Who would have guessed?!
They were ushered out of the manager's office and almost at the cashier's floor, when Silverbag stopped Harry for a moment.
"The Manager of the bank asked me to pass a word, Mr Potter," Silverbag told Harry politely, only for him to hear. "He would like to meet with you, once you are of age."
Harry nodded without a word.
"What just happened?" Sirius asked, as soon as they were alone. "And what exactly are you happy about?" he further asked Harry, who had a hard time hiding his smile.
"The goblins just didn't tell us that we don't need to worry about this artefact in the Lestrange vault any more," Harry explained patiently. "Rabastan activated the cup and Riddle now possesses his body."
"And this is a good thing?!" Sirius shouted, as quietly as he could manage.
Harry looked around, quite annoyed with his godfather, looking to see if they were attracting attention. He was also annoyed with himself, for not waiting with these explanations till they had some privacy.
It was Apolline who answered Sirius, if only to stop him from attracting even more attention in this public place. "It means," she explained patiently, "that he can now be killed for good."
They emerged from the bank to find the ally in utter bedlam. People in black dresses and white full face masks were milling around and shooting destructive magic right and left. A couple of shops were burning.
Fortescue?
Ally-goers have mostly scattered around, looking for cover and hiding places. Most probably, they were looking for one of the few escape routes away from the place, seeing that the most obvious ones - the main Floo terminal and the entrance to the Cauldron were covered by the yobs. Very few around dared stand up to them.
"Sorry," the Goblin guard told the three and slammed Gringotts' doors behind their backs, locking them outside and in plain view of the hooligans. He didn't look sorry at all, doing this.
In the centre of the street a family of three was exposed to the darkly-dressed mob. The father of the family was laying on the ground moaning. Already too hurt or wounded to do anything at all. The mother was trying to cover her child, screaming under a curse which one of the hooligans is holding her under.
"Death Eaters!" Sirius hissed in anger.
Harry wasn't sure what Death Eaters were. The Prophet called the hooligans at the world cup 'Death Eaters', but also said they were only pretending. He did recognise a terrorist attack when facing one.
"Harry, no!" Sirius shouted from behind him, as he walked towards the square and the family. Part of him was looking for his friends - worried. Another part was focused on the man in black and a mask, relishing the pain he was giving.
Was it his place to punish? Was it his place to defend, or should he just leave it to the grownups and Law Enforcement?
A new man appeared in the square. This one wasn't hiding his face, though.
Rabastan!
A hand on his shoulder stopped Harry on his way.
"You can't reach him through all his men," Appoline told him.
In the centre of the square, Rabastan showed the crowd his red eyes.
Amateur…
"You celebrated enough!" Riddle stated, for all to hear. "I'm back now to take what is mine. There is no old Headmaster to try and stand in my way and no infant will save you this time!" He then motions to one of his goons.
"Morsmordre!" the man called and pointed his wand in the air. A large green cloud in the shape of a skull with a snake crawling out of its mouth shot to the air. It was the same one he and Hermione saw from the top of the hill, over the world cup fairgrounds.
Harry shook off Appoline's hand and kept slinking forward. Keeping himself to the side of the alley and close to some cover.
Riddle made another sign and his men started Apparating away, leaving wisps of smoke in their wake.
"Soon!" Riddle promised the crowd.
Harry was almost there. Still too far to do anything at all.
"Finish them," Riddle told the man beside him and turned away.
Harry started to run. "Riddle!" he shouted.
Riddle was surprised. He turned his red eyes towards Harry but clearly didn't recognise the boy running towards him. He pointed his wand at Harry and shot a curse his way. He then turned and Apparated away, having made his point for that day and not caring to see whether his curse hit the boy.
The curse missed. Truly, it was too easy - Mazikeen would have laughed.
The man on the cobbles wasn't moving any more. The last of the terrorists pointed his wand at the mother. Harry could imagine him smiling underneath his mask.
"Avada Ked.." he called, till a curved knife stopped him by embedding itself in the centre of his forehead.
The knife came off the man's head pulling the mask with it. Behind it Harry found the now-blank face of Marcus Flint, the former Slytherin quidditch captain - bad teeth and all. Harry stared at his face blankly.
People have now started arriving.
"He needs a healer right now!" a man announced. He then hurried to Apparate away with the father.
"Here you are dear," another told the mother kindly, cradling her head and offering her a Potion to take. "Your daughter is all right."
Harry kept his eyes on Flint. Sure he disliked the mean brute, but didn't wish for him to die. Certainly didn't want to be the one to kill him.
Was it his place to deal punishment? Did he even want to be the protector?
He was so focused on his thoughts that he almost didn't notice when Flint blinked.
"Harry potter?" Flint's body asked, looking around in confusion.
"I am," Harry replied, just as confused. He was certain there was no soul in this body a moment ago. Looking once more - there still wasn't one in there.
"Boss asked that you call him next time," Flint's body told him. His head then dropped back to hit the ground and his face blanked once more.
"Harry!" a voice called his name from not far away. Soon he was hugged by a very familiar and liked arms. "I was worried, you twit," Hermione scolded him.
Harry said nothing and just hugged her back.
Chérie (French) - dear
Bof (French) - an expression (and shrug) which means 'I don't care much' (among other things).
AN:
Feel free to review and tell me what you think - It's appreciated!
usually, I answer each and every review, but this system is down and replies to reviews won't even reach your inbox (checked).
So sorry...
Many many thanks to flyboy38 my beta, who invested time and effort to make this readable for you all.
Cheers!