CHAPTER 31: THE PEVERELL RING
Exiting Twilfit and Tattings after their wedding robe fittings, Harry proudly sported a form-fitting black robe with intricate gold trim, paired with a new set of dragonhide boots. His robes, crafted from acromantula silk, would be enchanted with cooling charms, ensuring comfort throughout the ceremony. Bellatrix, on the other hand, insisted on keeping her robe a surprise, adding an air of anticipation to their preparations as they made their way to Fortescue's for some ice cream.
"Cissa has volunteered to plan out the ceremony for us," Bellatrix informed Harry as they settled into their seats at the ice cream parlor.
"That sounds like quite the task for one person," Harry remarked, eyebrows raised in surprise.
"Oh, Cissa lives for this kind of stuff. I'm sure she'll enlist Roxanne and Ophelia to help her," Bellatrix explained with a nonchalant shrug.
"Well, if you're okay with it, then so am I. I haven't the foggiest idea how to set up a wedding," Harry admitted before indulging in a spoonful of his ice cream sundae.
"Neither do I. My mother planned out my first wedding," Bellatrix confessed between bites of her cone, a hint of wistfulness in her tone.
"So, all that's left is the wedding bands," Harry noted, mentally ticking off their checklist.
"Yes, although by pureblood standards, this ring could be considered a lady's ring," Bellatrix mused, her gaze drifting fondly to the ring adorning her finger.
"But I don't have a lordship," Harry pointed out, a note of uncertainty in his voice.
"You could still obtain one. The Peverell line went extinct before the Wizengamot was formed, but they held a lordship under the Muggle king," Bellatrix explained, her tone matter-of-fact.
"Do I really need one? I hate politics," Harry admitted, his distaste for political maneuvering evident.
"No, I never found much interest in politics either. That was always Andi's thing," Bellatrix replied, her thoughts drifting briefly to her late sister.
"Guess that's why she became a solicitor," Harry mused, finishing off his ice cream.
Once Bellatrix had savored the last of her own treat, they made their way down the alley to Cutters Fine Jewellery. The cheerful jingle of the bell announced their arrival as they stepped inside.
Glass cases filled with exquisite jewelry greeted them, each piece gleaming under what Harry suspected were lighting charms meant to enhance the gems' sparkle.
"Ah, Mr. Peverell, delightful to see you again! Your ring is prepared," the proprietor exclaimed, his eyes twinkling with anticipation.
"Fantastic! We're also in the market for wedding bands. This is my fiancée, Bellatrix Black," Harry introduced, his voice brimming with excitement as he gestured toward Bellatrix, who was eagerly exploring the shop's treasures.
"A pleasure, my lady," Mr. Cutter acknowledged with a courteous nod, his gaze sweeping over Bellatrix's elegant form.
"Likewise, Mr. Cutter. Might I peruse your collection while Harry attends to his ring?" Bellatrix inquired with a charming smile.
"Of course, Miss Black. Please, feel free," Mr. Cutter replied, beaming at her enthusiasm.
With a skip in her step, Bellatrix glided toward a display case adorned with an array of exquisite chokers, her eyes alight with curiosity. Harry couldn't help but admire her gracefulness, noting the choker with emeralds that caught her fancy.
Meanwhile, Harry followed Mr. Cutter to the counter, anticipation bubbling within him. He observed as the portly shopkeeper disappeared into the backroom, reemerging with a plush velvet cushion cradling a magnificent silver ring.
Gingerly, Harry lifted the ring from its resting place, marveling at its craftsmanship. As he slipped it onto his left index finger, a thrill coursed through him as the ring shimmered with a golden hue before adjusting to the perfect fit.
Though simple in design, the ring held a profound significance. Harry traced the engraving with his finger, the words 'Dominus Mortis' encircling the black resurrection stone, reminding him of the power it held over death itself.
"It's splendid," Harry praised the jeweler, his eyes sparkling with satisfaction as he examined the ring adorning his finger.
"I'm delighted you're pleased. I've incorporated the enchantments you requested, ensuring it remains exclusively yours. Anyone else who dares to wear it will face quite unpleasant consequences," Mr. Cutter explained, his chest puffing out with pride at his handiwork.
"Marvelous. And the connection to my vault?" Harry inquired, his curiosity piqued.
"Successfully established. You can utilize the ring for significant transactions, akin to a Wizengamot lord's ring. Plus, with the assistance of my contact at Gringotts, the goblins enchanted it to reappear in your vault should it ever go missing," Mr. Cutter elaborated, a grin spreading across his face.
"And the cost?" Harry pressed, his gaze flickering toward Bellatrix, who was browsing nearby.
"On my end, as agreed. However, the goblins charged a fee for their enchantments, but that was out of my hands," Mr. Cutter responded nervously, bracing himself for Harry's reaction.
"I'm well acquainted with the goblins' ways," Harry reassured him, waving off the concern with a casual gesture.
"Excellent. Now, about those wedding bands?" Mr. Cutter interjected eagerly, relieved to move on to a less tense topic.
"Yes," Harry affirmed, his attention shifting as Bellatrix approached them, her eyes gleaming with excitement.
Selecting their wedding bands proved to be a swift affair. Bellatrix's eyes lit up as she spied a silver band adorned with petite purple diamonds, her choice made in an instant as she reached for it in the display case.
"Thank you for your craftsmanship, Mr. Cutter," Harry expressed his gratitude as he completed the transaction, handing over the payment for the three rings.
"It's been a pleasure, Mr. Peverell. And congratulations on your upcoming nuptials," Mr. Cutter replied warmly, a hint of curiosity flickering in his eyes.
"Thank you, Mr. Cutter. I appreciate your understanding," Harry murmured discreetly, slipping his wand into his hand.
"Understanding? About what?" Mr. Cutter inquired, his brow furrowing in confusion.
"Obliviate," Harry uttered quietly, his wand swiftly casting the spell as he aimed it at the unsuspecting shopkeeper.
A momentary blankness crossed Mr. Cutter's face before he blinked and regained his composure. "Enjoy your wedding bands, and have a pleasant day, sir," he said somewhat robotically, his voice tinged with a hint of confusion.
With a subtle smirk, Harry led Bellatrix out of the shop, guiding her toward the apparition point. He could sense her bubbling curiosity, but he knew it was best to address her questions in the privacy of their home.
As they vanished from sight, Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the thought of the bewildered jeweler and the secrets they carried away with them.
As soon as they emerged from the fireplace into the comfort of their home's sitting room, Bellatrix wasted no time in demanding an explanation.
"Why did you wipe his memory?" she pressed, her tone sharp with curiosity.
Harry nonchalantly brushed off imaginary soot from his robes with a flick of his wand before flopping onto the sofa with a sigh.
"The ring he crafted for me contained one of the Deathly Hallows. It was best that he didn't retain that information," Harry explained, his expression relaxed as he kicked off his boots.
Bellatrix's eyes widened with understanding. "So, Riddle's Horcrux had the resurrection stone embedded in it?"
"Yes, precisely. His lineage traced back to the second brother, Cadmus, while mine descends from the third, Ignotus," Harry elaborated, his voice carrying a hint of weariness from years of research and discovery.
"And what about the first brother?" Bellatrix inquired, her curiosity piqued.
"Antioch was murdered in pursuit of the Elder Wand and, as far as my investigations have revealed, he died without leaving any heirs," Harry explained matter-of-factly.
"So, you're certain you don't wish to acquire the other two Hallows?" Bellatrix probed further.
"No, the Invisibility Cloak remains a cherished Potter family relic, passed down to my younger self. And as for the wand, it's in the possession of Albus Dumbledore," Harry replied with a casual shrug.
Bellatrix winced at the mention of Dumbledore. "Going after Dumbledore's possessions would be quite the challenge," she remarked with a grimace.
"Dumbledore isn't someone I'm eager to engage in magical duels with," Harry agreed, nodding in solemn agreement.
Changing the subject with characteristic excitement, Bellatrix suddenly announced, "I have a new game for us to play."
"Really?" Harry perked up, intrigued by her suggestion.
"Yes, it's inspired by Chapter Eight of 'The Pureblood and the Concubine,'" Bellatrix exclaimed, her eyes alight with anticipation as she transported them both back in time to Malfoy Manor on a fateful day in 1982.
Stepping gracefully out of the fireplace at Malfoy Manor, Harry patiently waited for Bellatrix to follow suit, knowing they had been summoned for another round of wedding planning with Narcissa.
The past week had been a whirlwind of activity, with Narcissa proving to be a meticulous planner who spared no detail in her preparations. Every morning, like clockwork, she would arrive seeking their opinions on flowers, décor, venue, catering, and an array of other intricacies that left Harry feeling somewhat overwhelmed. If he were honest with himself, he couldn't help but wish they could simply elope and bypass all the fuss.
Their wedding was scheduled for dusk on Halloween, a choice that Harry initially thought provided ample time for arrangements. However, Narcissa's sense of urgency made him realize they were racing against the clock. Despite his reservations, he knew he had to trust Narcissa's vision for their special day.
As the fireplace flared once more, Bellatrix emerged, resplendent in a set of elegant dark purple dress robes, her presence exuding an air of sophistication and allure.
'pop'
"Mr. Pevy, please follow Dobby," the house-elf instructed, his crisp white tea towel fashioned into a makeshift toga.
"Lead the way, Dobby," Harry responded with a courteous smile, acknowledging the loyal servant's guidance.
Following Dobby's lead, they made their way to the formal dining room, where Harry was surprised to find Andromeda and Cassiopeia already seated at the table. Suppressing his bewilderment, Harry maintained his composure as he pulled out a chair for Bellatrix before taking his own seat.
"Good evening, Harry," Narcissa greeted warmly, her tone inviting despite the unexpected company.
"Good evening. It's lovely to see you all," Harry replied, masking any hint of curiosity that threatened to surface.
"Relax, Peverell. I'm here because I have a task that requires your expertise, and my niece has assured me that you're quite adept at handling such matters," Cassiopeia stated evenly, her gaze steady as she addressed Harry.
Harry shot an annoyed glance at Narcissa, receiving only an innocent smile in return, before turning his attention to Cassiopeia with a resigned sigh. "What is the job?" he inquired, bracing himself for whatever challenge lay ahead.
"There's a certain Wizengamot member who's employed a werewolf pack to wreak havoc in the Balkans, specifically targeting one of the Black family's ingredient storehouses. They've already inflicted harm on several employees and disrupted production, causing our European clients to suffer," Cassiopeia explained, her tone conveying the severity of the situation.
"Who's orchestrating this?" Harry inquired, his curiosity piqued.
"Lord Oswald Gamp. He runs a rival supply company based in South America and aims to edge the Blacks out of the European market," Narcissa interjected, providing crucial context to the brewing conflict.
"So, you're suggesting I eliminate him?" Harry ventured, hoping for a straightforward solution.
"No, unfortunately, Gamp still holds value for us. I want you to send him a message by delivering the head of the pack alpha," Cassiopeia clarified, her words carrying a weighty resolve.
"Is the alpha Fenrir Greyback, by any chance?" Harry asked, already anticipating the answer.
"It is. Are you familiar with the beast?" Cassiopeia inquired, surprised by Harry's knowledge.
"I'm well aware of Greyback's reputation—a savage known for targeting women and children. He was also a loyal follower of Riddle during the last war," Harry affirmed, his expression darkening with distaste as food materialized on the table.
"Indeed, the International Confederation of Wizards has placed a hefty twenty-five thousand galleon bounty on his head," Andromeda chimed in, her voice carrying a somber tone.
"I'll investigate further, but if I agree, I'll require an international portkey to the site by the first of October," Harry stated, his mind already calculating the logistics.
"You're seriously considering this?" Bellatrix interjected, her surprise evident in her tone.
"Most likely. Greyback is a monstrous threat, and I believe I can arrange something for the upcoming full moon," Harry replied, his resolve firm despite the risks.
"Very well, but if you make me a widow before we're even wed, I'll find a way to bring you back just to kill you again," Bellatrix warned half-jokingly, her eyes flashing with a mixture of concern and determination.
"You plan to confront him on the full moon?" Narcissa queried incredulously, her gaze fixed on Harry.
"It's the most opportune time. I'll know where he'll be," Harry explained with a casual shrug, his mind already devising a strategy.
"The job offers fifty thousand galleons, plus any additional rewards you may earn," Cassiopeia interjected before Narcissa could voice her objections, her tone leaving no room for negotiation.
"That sounds reasonable," Harry agreed before helping himself to a serving of food.
"Please inform me of your decision regarding the job. I'll ensure your portkey is prepared," Cassiopeia said, her satisfaction evident in her tone.
Harry ate his meal in silence, his thoughts consumed by the weighty decision ahead of him. While the girls engaged in lively conversation about wedding preparations, Harry contemplated his next move.
Greyback's demise would undoubtedly be a significant blow to Voldemort's lingering influence, making the job appealing despite its inherent dangers. Plus, given Greyback's notorious reputation and status as a werewolf, Harry doubted there would be any moral qualms from the wizarding community if he were to eliminate him—quite the opposite, in fact.
However, the practicalities of executing such a task loomed large in Harry's mind. Killing a fully transformed werewolf during the chaos of a full moon posed a formidable challenge—one he wasn't sure he was fully prepared for.
"That could be tricky," Harry mused inwardly as he savored a spoonful of soup, his attention drifting between his meal and the ongoing wedding discussions happening around him.
As Harry contemplated the complexities of the task ahead, the conversation around him shifted, focusing once again on the intricate details of the upcoming wedding. Bellatrix and Narcissa exchanged excited whispers about floral arrangements, seating charts, and other wedding essentials, their enthusiasm palpable.
Despite the jovial atmosphere, Harry remained lost in thought, his mind preoccupied with the looming decision. Killing Greyback would undoubtedly be a significant victory, not only for himself but also for the safety of others who might fall victim to the werewolf's brutality.
Yet, the practicalities of the mission weighed heavily on him. How could he possibly confront a fully transformed werewolf, let alone kill it, during the chaos of the full moon? It was a daunting prospect, one that required careful planning and precise execution.
As he listened with half an ear to the wedding plans unfolding around him, Harry's thoughts turned to potential strategies. He considered various scenarios, assessing the strengths and weaknesses of each approach, searching for the most effective course of action.
But for now, amidst the chatter of wedding preparations, Harry kept his thoughts to himself, knowing that the decision he made would have far-reaching consequences for both himself and those he cared about.
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