Chapter Twenty-One: Gringotts

James wished he'd brought another coat, the invisibility cloak felt entirely too thin in the winter air. He missed the days when he and Sirius were both short enough to fit under it, but now Sirius had to take a Polyjuice potion from Snape's supply. Sirius'd disguised himself as a pimply young wizard. The last name on his borrowed robes said "Shunpike."

They'd set up under a storage shed, a good distance away from the manor. The street behind them was busy with holiday shoppers. Years ago, Little Hangleton became the first of several new muggle free villages throughout the country. Although James suspected that many witches or wizards didn't put much thought into where the muggles went. He'd sent observation missions to the village before, but he'd never actually gone himself. James wondered if he'd gone himself all those years ago, if things could have turned out differently.

James hated how deceptively normal everything seemed. The shops were well-lit, cozy brick buildings under a merry layer of snow and holiday decorations. Up on the hill, the Riddle House was admittedly a little underwhelming compared to the space it occupied in James's head. It was a handsome two-story brick manor, with black trim along the sides.

"What did you expect, Prongs?" Sirius asked when they first arrived. "Gargoyles and a perpetual storm looming overhead? It's a bit of a giveaway."

In some ways he did, but for all its expectations and the amount of fear it put in the Order, Little Hangleton was a deceptively nice—albeit expensive—looking town. There was only one area of the place that showed its true nature. James found it unsettling to walk through the town's graveyard, to find that every single headstone was from the past eight years. They wouldn't, of course, bury Death Eaters and purebloods with muggles. Sirius leaned against the wall, keeping his eyes peeled on the shoppers and Death Eater troops alike. James wondered if they too found it odd how heavily policed the town was.

"I look like a bloody idiot here alone," he hissed under his breath. "I don't know about this; we've already been here two hours. The Death Eaters will get suspicious eventually, they're not all stupid you know."

"I just need to see him," James said.

Need was the exact right word—like air and sleep, he needed to know his only son was okay. It'd been five days since they escaped from the ministry, and there still wasn't any word from their lower-level spies about what happened. The ministry kept repeating the same story, Nagini was dead and Lestrange was in charge of the investigation. It was taking every ounce of restraint James had to not dash up the manor gates and burst through the door.

"He just tried to run away," Sirius sighed. "They're not going to let him skip out the front door—if he's even there—"

James knew that, he peered through a set of omnioculars. Truthfully, he just wanted to see some sign of life in that awful large house. Hate wasn't a strong enough word to describe how much he loathed being there, so close and yet painfully far away. He felt like a ghost in another person's life, wondering about a thousand different things that didn't seem to matter to anyone else but James and Lily. Did Harry have any friends in the village? Did he have a favorite color or Quidditch team? James tried to ask about those wonderful benign things back at Hogwarts, and he'd barely gotten any answers. James thought it was just nerves at the time, but now it hurt knowing that the reason he'd barely gotten any answers was because his own child had been instructed to kill him.

"We'll check the back then," James said. Sirius shot him a warning glare.

"Did it ever occur to you," Sirius asked, his voice dangerously low. "That that's exactly the kind of thing Riddle wants you to do? You'll definitely see Harry if you get caught, they'll want him there to watch, sick bastards …"

"I didn't say you had to go." James was glad Sirius couldn't see him, he sounded so much like Regulus and it made James's blood boil. Sirius seized his arm under the cloak, James cursed the snow on the ground for exposing his tracks.

"I can't imagine what you feel like right now, James, but this is reckless." Sirius tried to keep both of them under the canopy. "We have no idea where the wards to the house begin, I'm sure there's some nasty ones attached to it though to keep people out."

"You want to call me reckless?"

"I'm just asking you to think like a parent," Sirius released him. "Do whatever you want, James. But they will hurt him if you get too close."

James paused for a moment, he'd waited too long after Hogwarts. That'd been his first of many mistakes leading up to the fiasco Regulus unleashed at the ministry. He'd tried everything to keep the boys safe, and it wasn't enough. Ron was no closer to getting home, and Harry was essentially a prisoner. James placed a warding spell over his head to keep the falling snow off of his cloak, and to cover his tracks. Sirius took in a deep breath but did not stop him.

"Stan?"

James stopped dead in his tracks as a Death Eater approached Sirius.

"Evenin' Ms. Black," Sirius did his best cockney impression. James thanked his stars that they'd heard Stan Shunpike's voice before knocking him out. His heart leapt into his throat, Dora worked in Lestrange's office.

"Wotcher! What brings you out this way?" Dora asked, her eyes wide. "Surely they didn't restation you here?" James heard a twinge of jealousy in her voice.

She removed her half-mask and hood. James had to admire Dora's nerve to color her hair a deep shade of bubblegum pink. He couldn't imagine that the Death Eaters were keen to break uniformity.

"I'd just come to look at the decorations." Sirius said, determined to keep his voice casual. "Pretty innit?"

"I suppose …" Dora smiled smugly. "I'm here on special assignment myself, my aunt specifically requested me."

"Well deserved, nasty business with them terrorists, though." Sirius continued, James was thankful he didn't have to give him a nudge. "How's yer family holding up?"

"I couldn't even tell you the half-of-it." Dora rolled her eyes, and James remembered with a jolt how young she still was. Dora was barely five years out of the Academy, she'd been part of the first round of students selected. "The paperwork's been a bloody nightmare, and Aunt Bella's a wreck. Our name's being dragged through the mud again …"

"Oh sure," James saw Sirius shift uncomfortably, debating whether to press the issue further. "Heard about what happened to the Riddle girl, that's a shame. Good thing they rescued her brother though—"

"I knew her," Dora grunted in agreement, not looking very sorry at all. "She flunked auror training because of her health. That's been the trouble with my Aunt, she's close to the family."

You have no idea, James thought bitterly. He wondered if Dora knew her own cousin had been murdered by Riddle. Bellatrix watched her own daughter's murder by the man she was having an affair with, and still considered herself a close family friend.

"But the boy's alright then?" Sirius asked, James noticed his hand casually fall into his pocket. He didn't want Dora to know he was going for his wand.

"I guess so," Dora said blankly, unsure about why he was asking. "I dunno, he's quiet, and that kind of thing puts anyone in a bad way …"

"A bad way, huh?" Sirius wasn't blinking, focused on every small movement Dora made. It was moments like that that made James realize how different the Black brothers could be. Regulus was a brilliant researcher, but no one cared quite as much as Sirius did.

"Yeah Stan," Dora eyed Sirius. "His sister just died."

"Right, of course!" Sirius laughed nervously. "I meant—never mind—"

"I gotta go," Dora was watching Sirius carefully now, looking him up and down. "We'll catch up over a pint sometime, okay?"

"Cheers!" Sirius waved her off. Dora disappeared back into the stream of witches and wizards in town. James felt numb in a way that had nothing to do with the cold. It wasn't an answer, but it sounded like Dora had seen him. Although James felt sick to his stomach at the thought that Harry might still be possessed.

"Shit, she's definitely grabbing another Death Eater." Sirius muttered under his breath. "Let's go, please James."

James turned one more time to look at the house on the hill. The sun was quickly dipping below the horizon, and he could see lights on in a few of the rooms. James wondered if Harry was in one of them, or if he knew how much he mattered to both James and Lily. He clearly hadn't expected James to forgive him back at the ministry. James felt his heart pounding in his chest, all three of them would just need to hold on a little longer.

"Okay," James took Sirius's hand and dissapperated from Little Hangleton.

Ron's heart pounded as he rounded the entrance to Gringotts bank. It felt odd to go over what he wanted to say to Bill, when every time he saw his own reflection, he looked like a stranger. Ron blinked, studying himself for a moment in the polished bronze door. He still recognized his own face, although the nose was a bit shorter and his hair was brown. He felt Andromeda's hand on his shoulder, she'd insisted on being the one to accompany him. ("I made a commitment, and I intend to keep it," she told him that morning.) Back in Diagon Alley, Ron knew Lupin and Lily were scouring for information.

Ron tucked the amulet into his shirt, another gift he'd found in the knapsack, although it made him feel queasy. It was the same charm Harry used to fool them all back at Hogwarts. Ron took a deep breath in and pushed the doors open to the bank. He saw the shining plaque at the front of the bank, his mind lingered on the final words of the poem:

Thief, you have been warned, beware

Of finding more than treasure there.

Well, Ron already had treasure, and he intended on finding a way to destroy it as soon as possible. Ron felt the weight of the diadem in his knapsack, he gripped the strap tightly to get rid of the moisture on his palms. No one in their right mind stole from Gringotts, all he wanted to do was find his brother.

"Slow and steady, that's it," Andromeda whispered in his ear. She'd gotten a Polyjuice potion from Snape's store, and transformed into a witch that looked close enough to be his mother. They stepped into a short queue, although Ron was thankful to see that there was no blood status check point in the bank. Technically, Gringotts ran separately from the ministry. But Ron still saw a few aurors stationed further in the bank. Next to him, he felt Andromeda tense, he wondered if she expected to see Tonks. He knew James and Lily weren't the only ones to have their child taken away.

Ron searched the teller desks, there were a few wizards interspersed with the goblins. Ron saw a witch in the queue turn her nose up when a goblin called her forward as next in line. He didn't see Bill anywhere.

"Next," said a young goblin teller. Ron felt his legs shake as he approached the desk, the goblin peered down to Ron and Andromeda, expecting them to present their vault key. The goblin tapped his desk in irritation.

"I—erm—"

"What kind of establishment do you think you're running?" Andromeda snapped, and Ron jumped. She was looking angrily at the goblin teller. Ron noticed no one around them seemed to care at all about the outburst. "I demand to see a wizard banker."

"None available," the goblin said, clearly this was not the first outburst he'd dealt with that day. "You're welcome to come back later, madam."

"A likely story," Andromeda hissed, and for a moment Ron could only see her sister Bellatrix. She placed a hand on Ron's shoulder, and Ron felt her shaking. "Where is your supervisor?"

The goblin sighed and dismounted from his stool, Ron could see the top of the goblin's head as he strode around to a set of oak double doors. Ron's heart skipped a beat when a tall man with a red ponytail and a fang earing followed the goblin back to the front desk.

"What seems to be the problem, madam?" Bill asked, Ron saw a flicker of contempt cross his face. Bill'd always spoken highly of his bank coworkers.

"Finally, a human," Andromeda pushed Ron forward. "My son would like to make a withdraw."

Ron's heart leapt in his throat, wasn't it painful enough that Harry and Hermione thought of him as a stranger? Now he was going to have to go through the same thing with his own brother. Bill looked similar to how he looked back in Ron's world, but he had that same faraway look of grief in his eyes that Ron often saw on James. Bill drummed his hands on the bank desk.

"I'm terribly sorry, if you can just wait a minute, my colleague will be happy to assist—"

"When you were fifteen you broke your arm playing Quidditch in the yard," Ron breathed heavily, praying that the same thing was true for this world. "Fred and George signed the cast as Gred and Feorge, but mum magicked it back."

"What—" Bill went pallor, almost the same color as the white marble on the bank floor. "Who are you?"

"Bill, please, I don't have much time." Ron said feverishly. "Is there someplace private we can talk?"

Bill nodded, shaking uncontrollably as he led Ron into the back of the bank. Andromeda took a seat in a small waiting room, with plush black chairs. Ron had only ever been to the vaults in the bank, but here he could see goblins and wizards alike methodically measuring small piles of gold and treasure. He followed Bill into a small office, although outside Ron could see a decent view of Diagon Alley. The second the door closed, Ron took off the amulet. He felt the charm over him break, revealing his actual face.

Bill took one look at Ron, and then headed for a small cart near his desk. Ron saw him open a bottle of firewhiskey, Bill threw back his drink, and flopped into his desk chair. The entire time he did not stop looking at Ron.

"Explain," he said hoarsely.

"I'm Ron, I'm your brother—it's a long story—" Ron launched into the details, how he'd recently been rescued by the Order of the Phoenix and that he was looking for a way to get back to the rest of their family. Ron didn't think it was a good idea to mention the mirror yet. But he told Bill about what really happened at Hogwarts, how Harry betrayed him and Ron and the marauders were forced to flee. Then how Ron had been captured by the ministry and nearly killed during their escape.

There was once or twice when Bill interrupted him to ask a question, but otherwise Bill looked at Ron with the startling fear that he might actually be mad. But Ron felt better than he had in a very long time, there was something good about talking to someone about what happened to someone he could trust, like venom being siphoned out of his blood.

"And now Tom Riddle's out to do us all in, but he captured my friend before we could get out and I don't know what to do." Ron took a breath, feeling blood rush back into his head. Bill looked at him slack-jawed.

"I don't—" Bill began, tripping over his own words as he looked at Ron. "Is this supposed to be a joke?"

"No," he laughed humorlessly. Ron was reminded painfully of his first night, how much he'd prayed that it was all just an ill-conceived prank by his brothers. "Please, Bill, I need your help with this."

"Why me?"

"I know how to defeat Tom Riddle." Ron held out the bag, he was afraid to stick his hand in. He didn't like touching the horcrux, it was odd and sharp like a needle trying to press its way into his skin. "But to do it, I need the help of a curse breaker."

Bill searched his face for some understanding, Ron jumped, he heard a knock at Bill's office door. Bill gave Ron a look, and Ron reactivated the amulet. Bill strode back around from behind his desk to open the door.

"Hello?" He asked, opening the office door. Ron felt his heart plummet as he saw the two other men standing on the other side.

"How do you do, William," said a low voice from the other side of the door. Rodolphus Lestrange and Barty Crouch peered into the office.

"Can we come in?"