CHAPTER 24: THE END OF GAUNT'S SHADOW
In that instant, the air around them seemed to crackle with an unforeseen energy. The forgotten shack of Marvolo Gaunt blurred as they Disapparated, leaving behind the lingering echoes of their presence. The journey continued, and the weight of the Horcrux rested in Harry's pocket, a constant reminder of the darkness they sought to confront and conquer.
With a soft 'pop,' Harry and Bellatrix materialized right across the street from Sirius Black's ancestral home.
"My niece was right; a little warning would be appreciated," Bellatrix grumbled, her expression a mix of annoyance and disorientation as she regained her bearings after the unexpected Apparition.
"Sorry," Harry admitted sheepishly. "I just realized I might have tempted fate with that last comment and got us out of there before I triggered some hidden trap."
The air in Grimmauld Place was thick with the solemnity of history and the oppressive weight of the Black family's legacy. The gold box containing the liberated Horcrux served as a reminder that the battle against the dark forces was far from over. As they stood on the familiar London street, the shadows of the past seemed to dance along the edges of their perception, whispering secrets yet to be unraveled.
Back in Little Hangleton, the concealed trigger beneath the stone where the box containing the ring had rested activated with precision as the five-minute delay timed out. Swiftly and silently, ancient wards slammed down around the shack, sealing it off from the outside world. Simultaneously, the floorboards ignited into a blazing inferno, the flames dancing with a malevolent energy that had been dormant for fifty long years. The air became saturated with deadly vapors released from the potent potions that Voldemort had meticulously embedded into the very foundation of the floorboards, a sinister safeguard against intruders and those seeking to exploit the secrets hidden within the forsaken dwelling.
The shack, now a cocoon of fire and toxic fumes, stood as a testament to the Dark Lord's cunning and paranoia. The flames clawed at the dilapidated walls, hungrily consuming the timeworn structure that had held the Horcrux captive for so many decades. The shack's secrets were now locked away in the flames, its dark legacy transformed into ashes that whispered away in the wind. The chapter of Marvolo Gaunt's dwelling had come to a dramatic and final close, leaving behind nothing but the echoes of its turbulent past.
"Fine, let's get rid of the ring and go home," Bellatrix muttered, still sounding grumpy.
Harry nodded, leading her up the steps to Grimmauld Place and pushing open the door, holding it courteously for Bellatrix. She stalked inside, her impatience palpable, and took the lead, guiding them to the library.
Once inside, they traversed the vast expanse of the library until they reached the back corner. There, an unassuming section of the wall concealed a small safe, its presence known only to those familiar with the intricate secrets of Grimmauld Place.
Bellatrix eyed the safe with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation. "Well, let's be done with it."
Harry approached the safe, his fingers deftly navigating the combination lock. With a satisfying click, the safe door swung open, revealing a carefully organized array of shelves within. Among them rested a specially designated compartment for dangerous magical artifacts.
Carefully, Harry retrieved the gold box containing the Horcrux. The library's stillness seemed to intensify as the cursed object was brought into the open. Bellatrix watched, her eyes never leaving the box, as Harry placed it inside the secure compartment and locked it away.
"There," Harry said, his tone carrying a sense of finality. "Another Horcrux safely stored away."
Bellatrix's grumpy expression softened slightly, replaced by a begrudging acknowledgment. "Let's hope we're one step closer to ending all of this madness."
With the Horcrux safely secured, the weight of their mission lingered in the air. The echoes of the past reverberated within the library's walls, a testament to the battles fought and the ones yet to come.
Bellatrix pressed the palm of her hand against the wall, observing as the illusion dissipated, revealing a modest two-foot by two-foot steel door. With practiced ease, she withdrew her hand, and the door, now handleless, swung open smoothly. Inside, the small safe harbored the other three Horcruxes, innocently lying on the floor.
Harry reached into his pocket, extracting the box containing the ring. In a swift motion, he tossed it into the safe, and the steel door slammed shut. The mental pressure of four Horcruxes bore down on his mental shields, the weight of their malevolent essence palpable.
"When are we going to destroy them?" Bellatrix inquired, her hand activating the illusions once more, concealing the safe from view.
"I am waiting to hear back from Gringotts about a vial of basilisk venom," Harry responded as they began making their way to the basement kitchen.
The echoes of their footsteps reverberated through Grimmauld Place as they descended into the heart of the old house. The basement kitchen, a place that had witnessed its fair share of battles and strategies, now served as a makeshift headquarters for the ongoing quest to rid the wizarding world of the dark remnants left by Voldemort.
As they entered the dimly lit kitchen, Harry's mind buzzed with the weight of responsibility. The journey to destroy the Horcruxes had brought them to the brink of the unknown, and with each step, the shadows of the past seemed to encroach upon the present. The basilisk venom, a crucial element in their arsenal, awaited them, and the path ahead promised challenges yet to be unveiled.
Bellatrix's curiosity piqued at the mention of the basilisk. "I thought there was a thousand-year-old basilisk under Hogwarts?"
Harry nodded, a hint of trepidation in his expression. "There is. It's a formidable creature. But, considering the risks involved, I think it's best to leave it be."
As they navigated through the kitchen, Harry held the door open for Bellatrix, allowing her to pass through first. The sense of accomplishment lingered between them, a silent acknowledgment of their progress in capturing another fragment of Voldemort's fragmented soul.
With a shared understanding, they stepped through the Floo network, feeling a mix of relief and satisfaction at having secured yet another Horcrux. The flames licked around them, carrying them back to their destination, each step of their journey bringing them closer to the ultimate goal of eradicating the darkness that Voldemort had left in his wake.
The sense of accomplishment was tangible, resonating within them both as they emerged on the other side. The quest to destroy the Horcruxes was an arduous one, but with each piece of Voldemort's soul captured, they drew nearer to the pivotal moment when the Dark Lord's legacy would finally be extinguished.
Seated at the kitchen table, Harry leisurely munched on his bacon while Bellatrix hummed contentedly between bites of her porridge, absorbed in the morning paper. The domestic tranquility in Grimmauld Place seemed a stark contrast to the turbulent times they faced.
Ever since Tonks borrowed his broom and left their bedroom in shambles, Andromeda had opted to keep Tonks at home. Harry found himself missing Tonks' lively presence, but Bellatrix, quite the opposite, reveled in the newfound peace.
With a sense of purpose, Harry had sent a letter to Sirius, instructing him to meet at the Shrieking Shack on the twenty-third. The date was strategically chosen, aligning with an International Confederation of Wizards conference in Geneva that required Dumbledore's attendance. The absence of Dumbledore heightened the chances of a clandestine meeting with Sirius without interference.
As they continued their breakfast routine, the looming rendezvous added a layer of anticipation to the air. The future held uncertainties, but for now, in the heart of Grimmauld Place, Harry and Bellatrix found a moment of respite, savoring the calm before the storm.
"Today's a good day to pay Cissa a visit," Bellatrix remarked, peering up from her parchment.
Harry, not having seen Narcissa since the ritual, had begun pondering her absence.
"Okay—" Harry's response was abruptly halted by the entrance of a majestic eagle owl swooping in through the window, gracefully landing in front of him and extending a leg with a scroll attached.
Curiosity piqued, Harry carefully untied the scroll from the owl's leg, watching as the bird swiftly departed through the window.
"Who's it from?" Bella inquired, her curiosity evident in her tone.
Examining the parchment, Harry noticed it was sealed with a distinctive red ribbon. Unraveling the scroll revealed the unmistakable Gringotts seal embossed at the bottom. Harry swiftly perused the brief contents before meeting Bellatrix's gaze.
"Seems like it's from Gringotts," Harry replied, the words slightly rushed as he absorbed the contents of the letter.
"I need to head to Gringotts today. It seems there's something urgent they want to discuss," Harry continued, a mixture of curiosity and concern lacing his voice.
Bellatrix's interest was piqued. "Is it about the vaults?" she inquired, leaning forward with anticipation.
"Doesn't say much, but it's better to find out," Harry answered, rising from his seat with a determined look.
As they made their way to Gringotts, Bellatrix's mind was swirling with possible scenarios. "What could Gringotts possibly want from you now?" she muttered, mostly to herself.
The streets of Diagon Alley bustled with its usual magical energy as they approached the towering bank. Harry's thoughts were consumed by the letter's contents, unsure of the reasons behind the sudden summons.
Upon entering the grand hall of Gringotts, they were greeted by the solemn goblin tellers. Harry approached the nearest one with a respectful nod, holding out the letter for inspection.
"I've received this missive. It's urgent," Harry stated, his voice steady despite the underlying uncertainty.
The goblin peered at the letter, his eyes scanning the contents with a careful scrutiny. "Follow me," he commanded in a gruff tone, leading them through a maze of corridors and into a secluded chamber.
The chamber was dimly lit, casting elongated shadows across the ancient walls lined with intricate symbols. At the center stood an elderly goblin adorned in ornate robes, a grave expression etched upon his weathered face.
"Potter," the goblin addressed him, his voice echoing through the chamber. "We have urgent matters to discuss regarding your family's lineage and its implications on the wizarding world."
Harry's heart quickened with a mix of anticipation and apprehension. "What do you mean?" he asked, trying to hide the tremor in his voice.
"The ties that bind your ancestry have unveiled an ancient prophecy," the goblin explained cryptically. "One that foretells of a choice, a destiny that may alter the course of magic itself."
Bellatrix leaned closer, her eyes wide with intrigue. "A prophecy? What sort of choice?"
But before the goblin could elaborate, a sudden rumble echoed through the chamber, causing the torches to flicker ominously. The ground beneath them quivered as if responding to an unseen force, signaling an imminent revelation or a perilous turn of events.
"Harry James Peverell,
I have secured the item you requested. Kindly make your way to the bank at your earliest convenience to finalize the transaction.
Best regards, Senior Account Manager Longblade"
Harry read through the concise letter from Gringotts, a sense of purpose sparking within him as he absorbed its contents.
"It's from Gringotts. They've located the basilisk venom," Harry announced, his voice tinged with a mix of determination and relief.
Bellatrix's eyes widened with a glimmer of hope. "Finally, we can rid ourselves of those dreadful trinkets," she exclaimed, a genuine sense of joy coloring her words.
"Exactly," Harry affirmed, his resolve evident as he rose from his seat, a sense of urgency propelling him into action.
"Wait for me before you destroy them. I want to assist," Bellatrix urged, her voice trailing behind Harry as he began moving toward the fireplace.
"I will," Harry promised, glancing back briefly before stepping into the flickering flames.
As the floo network whisked him away to Gringotts, Harry's mind raced with thoughts of finally putting an end to the remnants of a dark past. The weight of the basilisk venom's existence had loomed over him for far too long, and the prospect of its destruction brought a glimmer of hope for closure.
Harry entered the grand lobby of Gringotts, the air thick with the scent of gold and polished marble. He strolled purposefully toward the nearest vacant teller, presenting the missive penned by Longblade upon the counter with a sense of resolve.
"I'm here to meet with Longblade, if you please," Harry addressed the goblin clerk, maintaining a polite demeanor as the goblin perused the letter.
The goblin, after a brief scan, nodded and gracefully slid off the stool. "Follow me, Mr. Peverell," the goblin announced, leading Harry down familiar corridors, echoing with the quiet hum of goblin conversations.
The journey proved brief, concluding at the imposing door to Longblade's office. The teller goblin knocked twice before conversing in the guttural tones of the goblin tongue. Eventually, Harry was granted permission to enter.
Acknowledging the goblin's nod with gratitude, Harry stepped through the threshold into Longblade's domain.
"Ah, Mr. Peverell, the venom has been secured. However, the supplier was adamant on the minimum quantity—no less than half an ounce," Longblade revealed promptly, gesturing for Harry to take a seat.
Harry settled into the chair, considering the implications. "And how much would a half ounce cost?" he inquired, meeting Longblade's gaze.
"Seventeen thousand galleons," Longblade replied after a moment's calculation, scrutinizing the details on a parchment.
After a thoughtful pause, Harry nodded decisively. "That seems reasonable. I'll proceed with the purchase."
"Very well. Additionally, there's a standard five percent transaction fee for all Gringotts dealings," Longblade added, swiftly preparing a transfer slip, his clawed hand deftly navigating the parchment.
As the ink dried on the transfer slip, Harry contemplated the substantial expenditure. "Understood. I'll authorize the transfer," he confirmed, ready to finalize the acquisition of the venom crucial for his undertaking.
"Absolutely. Additionally, I require a goblin-crafted dagger, plain in design but with a channel in the blade to contain this particular venom," Harry specified, mentally recalculating his budget to accommodate the additional purchase.
Longblade nodded in understanding. "Easily arranged. I'll procure one from the armory. However, such a specialized dagger will amount to three hundred galleons," he paused, waiting for Harry's response.
"Agreed," Harry confirmed promptly, more focused on the utility of the weapon than its cost.
"That totals to eighteen thousand one hundred and sixty-five galleons," Longblade stated as he slid the transfer slip and a blood quill across the desk, presenting the final figure.
Harry reviewed the slip attentively before signing it and returning it across the desk. "Here is your payment."
In exchange, Longblade handed Harry a minute vial containing the ominous black liquid. Simultaneously, he filled out a document, slipping it into a designated slot within his desk.
"The order for your dagger has been dispatched. And remember, should your fate lead you to part with it, ensure its return to Gringotts," Longblade intoned with solemnity, emphasizing the gravity of the request.
"Understood. It shall rest in my vault until the time calls for it," Harry replied nonchalantly, confident in his plans.
A faint knock echoed through the room, and a diminutive goblin entered, bearing a small wooden box. Placing it meticulously upon Longblade's desk, the goblin swiftly departed without a word.
Harry observed as Longblade unlatched the box, withdrawing a modest dagger with a sleek black handle encased in a sheath of dragonhide. Longblade inspected it briefly before nudging it across the desk towards Harry.
Curiosity piqued, Harry carefully unsheathed the dagger, revealing a gleaming silver blade reflecting his image back at him. The blade measured six inches in length and an inch in width at its base. A precise trough, measuring a quarter-inch by two inches, lined the blade's center, flanked by two razor-sharp edges.
Examining the craftsmanship, Harry noted the robust hilt forged of Damascus steel, its handle swathed in matching black dragon hide, mirroring the sheath's design. The precision and elegance of the weapon impressed him.
"It's exceptional," Harry murmured, a hint of appreciation in his tone, as he balanced the goblin-forged dagger in his hand, feeling its weight and equilibrium.
Longblade nodded approvingly. "A fine piece of goblin workmanship. It will serve you well."
Harry's fingers traced the smoothness of the polished blade's surface, admiring its flawless construction. "Indeed. Thank you," he acknowledged, a tinge of gratitude coloring his words as he slid the dagger into its sheath.
Prepared to depart, Harry rose from his seat, his mind already focused on the forthcoming endeavor that necessitated these meticulously acquired tools.
Harry gingerly placed the goblin-crafted dagger on the desk, then deftly uncorked the tiny vial containing the basilisk venom. With calculated precision, he poured the viscous black substance into the trough along the blade's center. A mesmerizing sight unfolded as the venom seemed to be absorbed by the silver blade, disappearing into it like water into parched earth. Satisfied that the dagger had absorbed every drop, Harry carefully sheathed it and secured it at his waist.
Longblade, his curiosity piqued, couldn't resist inquiring, "If I may ask, what purpose necessitates a weapon of such specificity?"
Harry hesitated for a moment, assessing the confidentiality of the discussion. "Is our conversation truly secure within these walls?" he inquired, seeking assurance.
"As your account manager, absolute confidentiality is guaranteed within this chamber," Longblade affirmed, his expression sincere.
Harry sighed softly before revealing, "I'm tasked with the destruction of five Horcruxes."
The goblin's eyes widened in disbelief. "Five?" Longblade echoed, taken aback by the revelation.
"Voldemort created five Horcruxes. I'm tracking them down to eliminate them," Harry disclosed, his tone grave with the weight of the task.
Longblade visibly tensed, clearly unsettled by the revelation. "May the fates favor you in this daunting endeavor," he offered, a flicker of distress crossing his features upon learning the extent of Voldemort's dark magic.
"I must take my leave. Thank you for your assistance, Longblade," Harry said, rising from his seat, the urgency of his mission palpable as he prepared to depart.
"Good day, Mr. Peverell," Longblade bid farewell, refocusing on the paperwork strewn across his desk as Harry prepared to depart.
With a nod of acknowledgment, Harry swiftly made his way towards the door. As he descended the steps of the bank, he paused for a brief moment, a determined glint in his eye. With a practiced flick of his wrist and a silent incantation, he vanished into thin air, apparating to his next destination, leaving behind the formidable walls of Gringotts Bank and embarking on the perilous journey that lay ahead.
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