Chapter 9

Goblin Grudges

It was nearly two in the morning when the Ministry experts finally left the house. It had been a bizarre experience, the whole lot of them had bewitched a quill and parchment to take notes for them as they explored that wretched cellar. It was clear to Tim that they were far more experienced than he when it came to crime scene documentation. They approached the whole thing like it was a math problem – the dead man, the blood, the eerie symbols, these were just numbers in the equation. Details in a picture. Ragnar, the goblin, had been particularly disturbing. He had vowed death to whatever wizard had spilled goblin blood, but laughed with the delight imagining what may have happened to the other creatures.

The Ministry experts were not the last of the house's visitors; however, they were soon replaced by a coroner, who took the body back to the Ministry. Finally, the Magical Cleanup squad had arrived to move any remaining evidence to the Ministry and clean the cellar. The clock struck five o'clock as the last of the Cleanup wizards left. Barliman had been asleep at his kitchen table for the last few hours. Tim was exhausted himself but there was no chance of him falling asleep in this house.

They roused landlord, sent him on his way and Tim yawned as the door closed behind him. Just the aurors now. "We are leaving soon too, aren't we?" Tim asked as Abraxas closed the cellar door behind him. "I could really use some sleep and, quite frankly, I've had enough of this house for a lifetime."

John gave a weak smile. "I think we've all had enough of this house. We'll need to come back a time or two before this is over, but we're done for the night. Tomorrow I'm going to track down the elusive Miss Gaunt. You and Abraxas will move on identifying the victim." John gave a big yawn himself. "But tonight, or this morning I should say, your only remaining objective is to get some sleep."

"Brilliant. But, now that everyone is gone, I do have some questions."

"Let's walk and talk", Abraxas said. "We've got a two mile walk until we're outside the perimeter, plenty of time to talk on the way." The big man stifled a huge yawn. "Merlin, I'm going to need a Wakefulness Potion tomorrow. I hate relying on the damn things but, duty calls."

They left the house and John magically locked the door. "So, kid, what's on your mind?"

"Goblins. Are they all…like that?"

"What, bloodthirsty and cruel?"

"Well…yeah", Tim said with a shrug.

Abraxas gave a short snort of laughter, "Yeah, pretty much. Never cross a goblin. They like violence and they hold grudges for centuries. Ragnar there still talks about the goblins being swindled out of a goblin-made sword by Godric Gryffindor. Godric freaking Gryffindor! Even if anyone alive could possibly know what really happened, imagine being upset about something that happened a thousand years before you were born. It's ridiculous."

"It sounds ridiculous to wizards", John interjected, "but it's reality for goblins and that's important to remember. Abraxas is right though – be careful when dealing with goblins. They are very proud and they do not pity wizards."

Tim frowned. "Do they just hate all wizards on principal then? Because of things that wizards did in the past? Ragnar seemed to have a real problem with Harry."

"Oh no, that's different. Wizards and goblins have had feuds on and off for hundreds of years. But Potter, they hate him in particular."

"Oh. Um, why exactly do they hate him?"

Abraxas glanced at John and then spoke. "What do you know about goblins? Aside from what we just told you."

"Well, they run Gringotts, the wizard bank. They take that pretty seriously and punish thieves harshly. Um. Goblin made artifacts are extremely valuable, wizards can't match their craftsmanship."

"That's enough to know why they hate Potter. That, plus they are extremely proud, that's important to remember." Abraxas took a deep breath. "I'm sure you know all about Potter's glorious conquest over Voldemort, how he destroyed all his horcruxes. Well one of those horcruxes was locked in a top security vault in Gringotts and I'm sure you've heard all the details about how Potter and his friends broke in and stole it. They had a goblin as an accomplice, Granger disguised as Bellatrix Lestrange, Potter used the Imperius Curse on a goblin working at the bank, they broke into the vault, stole the horcrux, and escaped on the back of a dragon. Hell of a story! I'm pretty sure it's been adapted as both a novel and a lesson in History of Magic."

Tim nodded. Everyone everywhere knew about the heist of Gringotts. His parents had actually been in Diagon Alley that day and seen the dragon burst out of the bank and fly away. As a kid he thought the Gringotts story was even cooler than the Battle of Hogwarts.

"Well, think about those events from the perspective of the goblins. Prior to that, no one had ever broken into Gringotts and successfully stolen anything, let alone a priceless artifact from a top security vault. Also, in the escape, the dragon caused thousands of galleons in damage to the bank itself and dozens of goblins were injured. The bank was shut down for a few days in the aftermath and, once it finally reopened, some wizards decided their gold was safer at home. Oh, and then there's the dragon itself. I have no idea how the goblins managed to capture a dragon, keep it imprisoned deep underground and train it to guard bank vaults – but I have to imagine it was extremely difficult. They were humiliated. Gringotts has been the wizard bank for over a thousand years. Its perfect security record, trust of its clients, and the building itself all collapsed in the span of the day."

"Well can they really blame Harry for all that? I mean, Voldemort was effectively running the bank, he was using it to guard a horcrux for Merlin's sake! The goblins suffered under Voldemort just as much as wizards did. Breaking into the bank was the only way to defeat him. Surely they realize that? I mean, is the bank's reputation really more important than defeating Voldemort?"

John smiled. "Well, that was the exact opinion of every witch and wizard. Not many people know this, but the goblins actually demanded a trial to prosecute Potter. Now, naturally no one was going to hand over Harry to the goblins but, as a gesture of good faith, they held a trial in front of the Wizengamot. And the message to the goblins was this: Harry saved the world and any harm done to Gringotts was necessary collateral damage. Get over it."

Abraxas continued. "The goblins didn't relent, however. The item stolen from Gringotts was Hufflepuff's Cup. Goblin made. Priceless. Potter and his friends destroyed it. An absolutely necessary step to defeat Voldemort. Goblins despise wizards when they keep goblin-made artifacts – but destroying them?" Abraxas shook his head. "They were furious – they value those artifacts more than goblin lives, than any life. They wanted Potter to get the death penalty – which is the sentence for destroying such an artifact under goblin law. Obviously, the goblins were nearly laughed out of court. Potter had just defeated Voldemort! All of wizard-kind would go to war with the goblins before they let them harm a single hair on his head."

"And the goblins are still this angry at Harry? After 10 years?"

"Told you goblins hold grudges. Besides, they made one more plea to bring Potter to justice. The goblins thought they had an ace up their sleeve. During the heist, Potter used the Imperius Curse on a goblin. An Unforgivable Curse. There was no wiggle room in wizard law here – using an Unforgivable Curse means life in Azkaban. Potter had admitted to using it and the goblin subjected to the Curse had given testimony. The goblins thought they'd won." Abraxas smiled, "As it turns out, there was some wiggle room in wizard law. As written, the law states that using an Unforgivable Curse on another human being carries a life sentence in Azkaban. The law doesn't say anything about using them on goblins; therefore, Potter did nothing wrong."

Tim let out a whistle. "Bet the goblins didn't like that."

"No, they did not", it was John and he wasn't smiling. "Goblins have always accused wizard-kind of looking down on them, treating them as less than human. Then to have the highest wizard court set a legal precedent saying, 'Yes, you are worth less than wizards. Far, far less.' To say they were insulted is an understatement. Goblin-Ministry relations have been strained ever since and the goblins have never forgiven Potter."

"And here we are." Abraxas led the way across the seemingly ordinary street that marked the edge of the magical perimeter. "Kid, don't worry about goblins and their feuds with wizards. Only thing you really need to remember is that if Potter invites you to go get drinks, just make sure you don't bring a goblin along. Now let's all go get some sleep. This won't be the last late night on this case."

The Ministry was virtually empty, which was typical for this late on a Friday night. Honestly, it was lucky Tim had been able to round up people from the necessary Departments given the time. Since he returned from the crime scene, Harry had had a debrief conversation with Kingsley and left detailed notes in the empty office of the Department of International Magical Cooperation asking for assistance with the Greek aspects of this case. It was high time he left the Ministry and picked up his sons from the Weasleys. He was halfway to his office when he heard his own name.

"Harry! HARRY!" Ron and Hermione were rushing toward him. "Where the hell have you been!?" Ron demanded. "We've been looking for you for over three hours!"

Harry frowned. "Looking for me why?"

"Oh, Harry", Hermione said in a much kinder tone. "We wanted to surprise you. After what you said last week, I thought it would be nice to do exactly what you'd said – go have dinner at the Three Broomsticks and have a night in Hogsmeade. We dropped Rose off at Ron's parents as well. But you weren't in your office, we checked with Ron's parents, and you hadn't gotten the kids. We know you don't go out on Auror missions anymore and we got worried."

Harry knew he should've been touched that his friends were going out of their way to see him, but Hermione's last sentence raised his blood pressure. "I still go out on missions sometimes. And I'm flattered, but you don't need to worry about me."

Ron clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder. "It may be a little late for dinner, but it's not too late to have some fun. Let's hit up Hogsmeade, what do you say? Fred's expecting us. The kids can have a slumber party at my parents', they'll love it. Tonight, we have no responsibilities: we're not parents, or aurors, or even leaders of magical education", he said winking at Hermione. "We're just three young adults in the prime of their life with a little money in their pockets and no fear of tomorrow. Oh", he said fishing a ring of keys out of his pocket and twirling them. "We also have unfettered access to the joke shop. No customers, no rules – just bellies full of butterbeer and endless possibilities", he finished with a grin.

"Well I do have to say, that's quite the sales pitch. But I can't. A top priority case came in tonight. I was on my way to grab the kids, put them to bed right away, and spend the rest of the night looking at this", Harry said raising the parchment files in his hand.

"Oh no you don't, you're not squirming out of this one. You spend too much time as it is sitting around and looking at files. You have to come, it'll be good for you. I-" he cut off and turned to his wife. "Hermione, help me out here?"

"Well I don't know about getting drunk and ransacking the joke shop", she said, "but, Harry, you really should come. With the whole Huntsman situation over, it'll be a really fun time. I talked to Neville and he's going to join us! Hogwarts had been on high alert too, so he's itching to let loose as well. It's just one night, I'm sure Kingsley will let you call off your secu-" Hermione froze and her eyes went wide. "Harry where is your security team? What's going on?"

Harry raised the file in his hand. "This. The case that came in tonight is a level 5 and classified above top secret. I had to do an on-site investigation and the security team couldn't come."

"Oh, no", Ron said slapping a hand to his forehead. "I thought this Huntsman thing was over. Don't tell me she got someone else?"

Harry shook his head. "No, we got confirmation just a few minutes ago that she's safely in her cell in Azkaban. This is something different. But it might end up being just as bad…or worse."

Ron groaned. "What is it this time?"

"No! Harry can't tell us", Hermione interjected. "You heard him, it's classified above top secret. He couldn't even tell his own security! Telling us would be a huge violation of Ministry protocol."

"I do want to tell you though", Harry said quietly. "Not because I want to talk about it, but because I think you two are better suited to help with this than anyone else on the planet. I mean, Hermione wrote the book on it."

Hermione gasped and clapped a hand to her mouth. Ron's eyes narrowed. "You don't mean…not…" He looked around the Auror Headquarters to see if anyone was listening.

"Shall we step into my office?" Harry's two best friends exchanged a look, then nodded. Once they'd entered the office, Harry magically locked the door and cast a charm to prevent eavesdropping.

"Are we seriously dealing with horcruxes again, Harry?" Ron blurted out the moment the privacy charm had been cast. In response, Harry opened the file and spread out the pictures of the crime scene, the seven-pointed ritual site, and the dead body. Then he told them everything he'd seen and what he'd discussed with his aurors. When he was finished, they sat in silence for a long moment.

Finally, Ron stood up and looked at Hermione. "Do you agree? Are we chasing some immortal nutter again?"

Hermione didn't speak right away, but appeared to consider her words carefully. "I definitely agree that this is a horcrux ritual. I also agree with Harry that it's likely that whoever did this copied aspects of the ritual directly from a textbook…possibly my textbook. And, unfortunately, I agree this is a serious problem. But, I don't think we are chasing this immortal nutter. I'm sure Harry just wanted to use our knowledge in a consultative capacity which, of course, we're happy to do. You're not an auror anymore, Ron, and I work in the Department of Magical Education. Harry doesn't expect us to physically join him on this horcrux hunt."

Harry drummed his fingers on his desk. "Well…"

"Harry, no!" Hermione said getting to her feet and aggressively pointing at Harry. "You have an entire Department at your disposal! Dozens of aurors, who knows how many security wizards, not to mention the National Reserve! There's no reason for Ron and me to go out into the field for this."

"You don't know everything yet!" Harry said. "The house was rented, I spoke with its owner…"

"What's the difference who owned the house!? We're still not-"

"THE CURRENT RENTER'S NAME", Harry shouted over Hermione. "Is Merope Gaunt." Hermione froze, mouth open and finger still pointing at Harry. She slowly closed her mouth, lowered her arm and retook her seat.

Ron looked back and forth between the two of them. "Merope Gaunt as in Voldemort's mum, Merope Gaunt? This bloke told you he was renting out his house to Voldemort's mum? Isn't she over 100 years old this point?" Ron cleared his throat. "And dead?"

"Well, she died the day Tom Riddle was born, so that's a 'yes' to your last question. And Tom Riddle was born in…"

"1926."

"Thank you, Hermione. She was about 18 or 19 when she died so, yeah, she would be right around 100 years old if she was still alive. But the landlord described his tenant to me as well and she's a dead ringer for the Merope Gaunt I saw in that memory with Dumbledore. Dumbledore was convinced that the Gaunt line was extinct, that Voldemort had been their last living descendant. I'd love to find out that there is some completely unrelated Gaunt family out there who, coincidentally, has a cross-eyed daughter named Merope. But somehow I don't think that's the case."

"Well, Harry, what do you think it means?"

"Honestly, I don't know. It can't be that Merope Gaunt. She's dead. Maybe someone has chosen to impersonate her for some reason? Podmore is trying to track her down, but no one's seen her in six months. I'd love to talk to her once he tracks her down."

"Harry, it's extremely peculiar that a person of interest has the same name and bears a resemblance to Voldemort's mother. I still don't see how that changes what I said about putting Ron and me on this case."

"There's one last thing I wanted to ask you about", Harry said sliding the final picture out of the folder. "This drawing was on the far wall, staring directly at the dead man in the center of the horcrux ritual. Apparently, his name is Herpo Olympus. Any idea who that might be?"

"Harry, you can't be serious. You know who this is."

Ron spoke up before Harry could respond. "This is the same bloke as Herpo the Foul, right? Crazy Greek wizard, speaks parseltongue?"

"Yes, thank you, Ron."

"Right, looks just like him. I swear we must have about twenty of him at the house now that Rosie is collecting too. He might be the most common chocolate frog card."

Hermione fixed Ron with such an angry glare that he actually winced. "Chocolate. Frog. Card. You only know him from his chocolate frog card! And, Harry, you're telling me that you don't know who he is either? Seriously!?"

"Sorry, Hermione, I don't…"

"Ugh you two are UNBELIEVABLE!" she said slapping the table. "Especially you, Harry! All you talked about for months was the horcrux training for your aurors, you begged me to write that book on horcruxes, and now I find out that YOU DIDN'T EVEN READ IT!" She was breathing heavily as she turned her fury on to Ron. "And you, you said that you've read every book I've written since we got married. Which other ones did you lie about?"

Harry decided to jump in before this became a domestic dispute. "Hermione, I did read it. I…"

"THE WHOLE THING? There's no way, because if you did then you'd have everything you need to know." Hermione crossed her arms and stared to her left, deliberating avoiding Harry and Ron. "Well, I've told you where to find the information. If you want to know anything else, you're just going to have to go read it yourself."

Harry had read Hermione's book…most of it anyway. His concern was with being able to identify evidence of horcruxes being made, finding them and destroying them. Hermione had included a very lengthy section on the history of horcruxes that…well, to say Harry had "skimmed" it would be generous. Harry didn't have a copy of the book in his office and, besides, he'd always found Hermione a better teacher than books anyway, even ones she wrote herself. He shot Ron a quick wink. "I think I do remember him now. From the introduction, the history of horcruxes section. He was the bloke who tried to destroy a horcrux by having a snake eat it."

"Yeah, that sounds right", Ron said, catching on. "He was a hero, he traveled around Greece trying to destroy horcruxes via animal digestion. Are you sure it was a snake though, Harry? I thought he fed horcruxes to something else. A bowtruckle maybe?"

Harry saw the muscles in Hermione's neck stiffen, but otherwise she didn't move. "Hmmm, I thought it was something snake-like", Harry said thoughtfully. "Aha!" Harry snapped his fingers. "It was a flobberworm!"

"Yes, yes, that's it!" Ron chimed in. "Some bloke turned a head of lettuce into a horcrux and Herpo destroyed it by feeding it to a bucket full of flobberworms. Brilliant wizard, I only wish we knew about his method back when we were hunting horcruxes."

Harry had to fight to keep a straight face. "You know what this means, Ron. We're clearly dealing with some type of vegetation-based horcrux magic. I think the next steps are obvious – you and Hermione need to go to Hogwarts and tell Hagrid the Ministry is appropriating their entire flobberworm population. As for me, I know muggles have huge fields where all they do is grow lettuce. I'll talk to Kingsley and see if the Ministry can afford to buy a muggle lettuce farm. It's the only way-"

"Oh stop, stop it, both of you!" said Hermione turning around and both Harry and Ron burst into laughter. Once they started it was difficult to stop and the furious look on Hermione's face only made them laugh harder.

"HERPO THE FOUL CREATED THE FIRST EVER HORCRUX!" Harry's laughter died at once. Hermione still looked angry.

"Hermione, I'm sorry I didn't read the horcrux history section of your book. I promise I'll read it soon and I swear I've read the rest of it a dozen times. But I need to move on this case now. Please tell me what you know about Herpo the Foul."

Hermione looked at Harry for a moment and then rolled her eyes, "Oh, alright. 'Vegetation-based horcrux magic', I swear", she muttered almost smiling. She took a deep breath and began to speak very quickly. "Herpo the Foul was a wizard who lived in ancient Greece, sometime between 1000 B.C. and 500 B.C. His followers and local muggles referred to him as Herpo Olympus, to everyone else he was known as Herpo the Foul. He had a dwelling atop Mount Olympus, you see. He would fire lightning bolts from the top and associate with dangerous magical beasts. He had the local muggles convinced that he was either Zeus himself or a child of Zeus, depending on which source you read. Either way, he convinced the muggles to worship him or else…suffer the consequences. He was a very dangerous Dark wizard. The rest of the magical community was frightened of him. It is unknown how exactly he was defeated, but the day he died is a national holiday in Greece.

"Herpo is best known today for two of his creations that are still around. First, the horcrux. Whether Herpo 'invented' horcruxes is unclear, but the earliest known horcrux was created by him. Second, he bred the first basilisk. Ancient magizooligists had theorized that dangerous beasts could be created by crossbreeding certain species and ancient Greece is certainly known for its hybrid creatures: chimeras, manticores, centaurs. But Herpo bred the basilisk into existence, one of the deadliest creatures the world has ever known. He is also a parselmouth and was notorious for taking snakes with him anywhere he went."

"Horcruxes, basilisks and he's a parselmouth? He sounds like Voldemort's favorite comic book character."

Ron frowned at Harry. "Comic book?"

"Never mind. The point is, Herpo sounds like the exact person Voldemort would look up to. He certainly looked up to Slytherin. I wonder…could they be related?" Harry looked at Hermione. "When I spoke to Tom Riddle in the Chamber of Secrets, the one that came out of the diary our second year, he said he thought that the two of us were the only parselmouths to come through Hogwarts since Slytherin himself. I know the Gaunts could speak it – and they are his direct descendants, so I think it must be hereditary. Is Herpo the Foul an ancestor of Salazar Slytherin and, by extension, Voldemort?"

"That's a topic of debate among magical historians. You're exactly right, Harry – the ability to speak parseltongue is extraordinarily rare and is almost exclusively seen in blood relatives. As far as we know, there is no physical evidence proving Herpo and Slytherin are related, but the fact that they both speak parseltongue is strong circumstantial evidence."

"Wait a second – how long do basilisks live?" Ron looked back and forth from Harry to Hermione. "I mean the basilisk Harry killed was supposedly left in the school by Slytherin himself, so it had to be close to a thousand years old at the very least. Can they live to be two thousand? Three? Could Slytherin's basilisk be the same one that great-grandpa Herpo used to have?"

"It's difficult to say. Basilisks are extremely rare; I think there have been less than ten full grown basilisks in recorded history. Slytherin's was unique for two reasons: first, it was either in some kind of hibernation or just remained inactive for hundreds of years. Most basilisks are extremely aggressive – they are apex predators and not remotely shy about hunting anything and everything nearby. Second, Slytherin's basilisk was obedient to Slytherin and his heir. Every other account of a basilisk describes a beast that is impossible to control but, rather than try to kill and eat the entire school, Slytherin's basilisk was discreet and none of the victims were eaten."

"Could basilisks live for two or three thousand years? No one knows. Their aggressive nature makes them targets for wizards – wizards have historically formed large posses to hunt and kill them when one is nearby (better to hunt it before it hunts you). As far as I know, Slytherin's basilisk is the longest lived one on record. I personally doubt it's the same one as Herpo's, but - could it be?" Hermione shrugged.

Ron cleared his throat. "So to recap: someone definitely made a horcrux; in addition to killing a human, this person probably also killed a goblin, a centaur, a mermaid, a giant and a unicorn, as well as capturing and torturing a phoenix; we have no idea who the human victim is but they're possibly Greek; this killer is apparently obsessed with the Greek version of Salazar Slytherin; and the lady who lived in the murder-house is somehow Voldemort's mum." Ron held up fingers counting each declaration. "Anything I missed?"

"No, I think that just about sums it up." Harry was staring at the picture of Herpo the Foul and his monkeyish face. Was Harry seeing what he wanted to see? Or did that face closely resemble Salazar Slytherin's face on his statue in the Chamber of Secrets?

"Harry!" Harry jerked up; Ron had been talking to him but Harry hadn't heard him. "Are we doing any more investigative work tonight? I mean it sounds like we've covered all the information."

"No – I mean, I'd like to keep talking through the facts but you've got all the information I have. But also, I'm still planning on convincing you to come with me."

"So the critical thinking portion of the evening has ended. Perfect. Harry, if you want us to listen to your pitch on why we should join you on this new suicide mission, you're going to have to convince us to stay." Harry raised an eyebrow but Ron waved his wand. A dusty bottle flew out of the bottom drawer in Harry's desk and into Ron's hand. "I think a few glasses of the 60-year ought to keep me here for a bit. Although you did cause us to miss an excellent night in Hogsmeade, so I think you'll have to have food ordered in as well. I mean, no one should drink this on an empty stomach."

Harry smiled. "You've got a deal. I think I have some unopened chocolate frogs around here somewhere – will those count as dinner? It could expand your knowledge as well, seeing that chocolate frog cards seem to be the only actual reading you do."

"Well, Harry", Ron said pouring the liquor into three glasses. "I thought your chances of convincing us were slim before, but now they're hovering right about zero."

"I am going to convince you to come and I'm going to do it one step at a time." The three of them each seized a glass, clinked them, and took a sip. "Step one: would you like to come with me to my first investigatory destination?"

"Where might that be?"

"Hogwarts."