CHAPTER 12: STRATEGIC MANEUVERS
Seated at the dining table, Harry leisurely savored his breakfast, a subtle grin playing on his lips. The Ministry had officially declared the demise of Malfoy and Fudge as mere accidents, a proclamation that had Harry inwardly celebrating. The night prior, he undertook a clandestine venture to the Ministry, meticulously erasing the runes from the second lift. The task was executed with finesse, leaving no trace of sabotage behind for magical maintenance to uncover during their inspections.
As he envisioned Narcissa's satisfaction with the favorable outcome, Harry found himself liberated from the looming concerns of the Chamber of Secrets debacle. Yet, an enigma lingered—what to do with the basilisk? Despite its considerable market value, Harry pondered the feasibility of incorporating it into his plans. The formidable serpent presented both a lucrative opportunity and a logistical challenge, especially in the context of infiltrating Hogwarts.
The Elder Wand and his invisibility cloak had been confiscated during his capture by Rookwood, severely limiting Harry's stealth capabilities. The dilemma of reclaiming his invisibility cloak—currently in Dumbledore's possession—weighed on him. However, the moral qualms associated with pilfering from this alternate version of himself tempered his resolve. For now, the cloak remained elusive, adding an additional layer of complexity to Harry's evolving predicament.
He mulled over the options, recognizing that each decision held consequences. The absence of the invisibility cloak and the Elder Wand intensified the intricacies of his clandestine maneuvers, making every move a calculated risk in the intricate chess game of his clandestine pursuits.
As for the elder wand, he had no doubt that he was an able and powerful wizard but there was Absolutely certain that challenging Albus Dumbledore for the Elder Wand would be a perilous endeavor, Harry dismissed the idea outright. Instead, he resigned himself to wielding his trusty Phoenix and holly wand, finding little discernible difference, at least for the time being.
The looming challenge of dealing with the Horcruxes lingered in his thoughts. Time, it seemed, was an ally in this regard, affording him the luxury of strategizing. Yet, extracting the Horcrux ensconced within his younger self presented a formidable obstacle. The conventional method that had rid his own soul fragment was not an option; too many uncertainties surrounded that particular approach.
Questions proliferated in his mind like unruly weeds. Would a killing curse, cast by his own hand, suffice to obliterate the Horcrux, or did it necessitate the touch of Voldemort himself? Did he need to patiently await Voldemort's resurgence, facilitated by his younger self's blood, to ensure his mother's protective enchantment bound him to the mortal plane? Or, perhaps, attempting to eliminate the Horcrux through the killing curse might unravel into one of those perilous situations the Unspeakables perennially cautioned against in the context of time travel.
As Harry grappled with these intricate considerations, he sensed the weight of responsibility settling upon his shoulders. Each potential avenue bore consequences, and the intricacies of time travel added an extra layer of ambiguity to the already complex web of decisions he had to make. The path ahead, fraught with uncertainties, demanded careful consideration and a strategic mind.
"Was there a way for Narcissa to remove it like she did the dark mark? There were plenty of Contemplating the intricacies of Horcrux eradication, Harry pondered the potential of employing Bella's newfound proficiency in destructive magic. Observing her practice on other Horcruxes led him to believe that the same methodology could effectively dismantle these dark anchors.
While these considerations churned in his mind, a plan for dealing with most of the deliberately created Horcruxes materialized. The Locket Horcrux nestled safely in the house, seemingly within easy reach. A flicker of confidence ignited within him, confident that Bella could secure the Cup Horcrux from the depths of Gringotts. Anticipating Narcissa's cooperation in relinquishing the Diary Horcrux once owned by Lucius, he foresaw minimal resistance on that front. The Ring Horcrux concealed in the Gaunt shack posed little challenge, its accessibility enhancing the viability of Harry's scheme.
However, the Diadem Horcrux mirrored the dilemma of the Chamber of Secrets, both requiring a covert entry into Hogwarts, skillfully evading the scrutiny of Albus Dumbledore. The prospect of infiltrating the esteemed wizarding school triggered a wave of apprehension. Nevertheless, Harry's determination burned undiminished; he knew that navigating this labyrinth of challenges was imperative for ultimate victory.
As the pieces of his plan fell into place, Harry couldn't shake the lingering sense of urgency. Time pressed on, and each decision, each action, had a profound impact on the unfolding tapestry of events. The path ahead was fraught with risk, yet the potential reward—freedom from the looming threat of Voldemort—propelled Harry forward, undeterred by the shadows that lay ahead.
Fortunate that Voldemort hadn't transformed Nagini into a Horcrux until '94, Harry harbored hope that he could thwart the Dark Lord's plans before contending with that particular challenge.
His contemplations were interrupted by Bella, her inquiry pulling him from his musings. "What's on your mind?" she queried, her eyes probing his.
"Horcruxes," Harry responded succinctly, lifting the teacup to his lips for a sip of the lukewarm brew.
Bella, ever the provocateur, smirked and teased, "Aren't you a little young to be worrying about immortality?"
"I wasn't planning on making any. I need to track down all of Voldy's eventually," Harry replied, his gaze focused on the task at hand.
With a casual shrug, Bella remarked, "Most of them should be fairly easy."
Harry, however, raised the specter of the one within Hogwarts, prompting a thoughtful pause. "So get someone to retrieve it for you," Bella suggested, as if the solution were self-evident.
"Something to think on, I suppose," Harry acknowledged, the wheels turning in his mind.
Shifting gears, Bella redirected the conversation. "So, what's on the agenda for today?"
"I need an identity, and I've been putting off going to Gringotts for too long," Harry replied, his expression contemplative. The prospect of establishing a new identity and delving into the mysteries of Gringotts added a layer of anticipation to the day's agenda. The road ahead was fraught with challenges, but Harry's resolve remained unwavering as he navigated the intricate dance between the past and the future.
"Good, I need to move my personal vault into the Black Vault and see what I can do about Rudy's family vault," Bellatrix announced, her voice carrying a hint of urgency and determination.
Harry's curiosity piqued. "Which vault is the cup in?" he inquired, his interest drawn to the specific location of one of Voldemort's Horcruxes.
"It's in my personal vault. Do you want me to retrieve it?" Bellatrix offered, her readiness to assist evident.
"Yes, but be cautious. The goblins won't take kindly to discovering its significance," Harry cautioned, aware of the potential repercussions if the goblins were to uncover the true nature of the item.
Bellatrix's response carried a tinge of remorse. "Had I known what it was, I never would have stored it there," she confessed quietly, a trace of regret coloring her words. The weight of past actions weighed heavily on her as she grappled with the unintended consequences of her past decisions.
Having successfully achieved his objectives, Harry reveled in the satisfaction of his newfound identity. Officially recognized as Harry James Peverell by the Ministry, he had obtained forged identification papers, school records, and test scores, meticulously fabricated by the goblins from a discreet European institution. The swift notarization and ministry approval, though costly, had unfolded with remarkable efficiency.
With his newfound persona solidified, Harry delved into the Peverell vault, marveling at the family's extensive holdings. The vault, steeped in centuries of history, revealed a surprising trove of gold. The family's ancestral connection to the land upon which Hogwarts stood had proven lucrative, the initial sale to Salazar Slytherin having multiplied through the ages. Accruing interest at a steady one percent, the resulting sum had grown to an impressive two hundred and forty-two thousand galleons and some change.
Beyond this substantial wealth, the Peverell family boasted shares in Ollivander's wand shop, ensuring a consistent annual profit. The goblins, diligent custodians of the family vault, had maintained and nurtured these assets, prepared to deploy the gold if the need arose to fortify the bank.
As Harry navigated the labyrinthine corridors of wealth within the vault, he couldn't help but marvel at the intricate tapestry of his newfound legacy. The Peverell family's financial prowess held the potential to be a formidable asset in the challenges that lay ahead, further empowering Harry in his quest to reshape the course of destiny.
The goblins, shrewd custodians of wealth, took solace in accumulating substantial reserves within the vaults of families presumed extinct. The foresight was a safeguard against financial crises, a practice rooted in the Treaty of Sixteen Thirteen. This accord granted them the right to tap into unclaimed gold in the event of an economic collapse.
Despite initial skepticism regarding Harry's blood ties to the Peverells, the goblins, compelled to test his bloodline, begrudgingly conceded to the legitimacy of his claim. Ownership of the vault was duly passed to him, a testament to the binding nature of blood.
"Will that be all, Mr. Peverell?" inquired his account manager, Longblade, maintaining a stiff demeanor.
"For now, but I am in the market for a quarter ounce of basilisk venom," Harry revealed, his request delivered after careful consideration.
Longblade, ever businesslike, responded, "It can be found, but the price will be quite high, not counting the ten percent finders fee."
"How high?" Harry inquired cautiously, mindful of the potential cost attached to his unconventional request.
Longblade, maintaining his composure, delivered the verdict on the cost of basilisk venom. "Somewhere in the neighborhood of ten thousand galleons," he stated plainly.
Harry, seemingly unfazed, replied, "That sounds more than fair. Please set it up."
"Very well, I will owl you when we acquire it," Longblade affirmed, sealing the arrangement.
With a nod, Harry rose from his seat and exited the office. Upon reaching the atrium, he found Bellatrix seated on a bench, awaiting his return. Her nonchalant demeanor seemed impervious to the wary glances from other bank patrons.
"How did it go?" she inquired, disregarding the disapproving looks directed her way. The duo, now united in their shared endeavors, ventured forth into the next phase of their unfolding journey.
"Surpassed my expectations, care for a lunch break in Diagon Alley?" Harry suggested, ushering her through the entrance to the bustling magical street.
"Sure, can we go for ice cream?" Bellatrix chimed in with a touch of childlike innocence.
"Perhaps after we indulge in a proper meal. How about trying the 'Happy Hippogriff'?" Harry proposed, leading her towards a bistro-style restaurant.
"Alright, but I want ice cream afterward," Bella insisted with a pout.
"Agreed. Did you secure the cup?" Harry inquired as they settled into the outdoor seating area, awaiting the attention of a waitress.
"I did. Silly Bella should never have stashed it in the bank," Bellatrix admitted, shaking her head. A somewhat nervous waitress approached their table.
"Can I get you something to drink?" the young blonde woman, identified as Wendy from her nametag, asked hesitantly.
Harry scanned the drink menu with a grin before responding, "Two cokes, please."
"Do you know what you'd like to eat, or do you need a moment?" Wendy questioned, her voice tinged with nerves.
In response, Harry exchanged a glance with Bellatrix before replying, "Give us a minute. We'll need some time to peruse the menu."
"Bellatrix decided on a BLT and chips," Harry relayed after glancing over the menu himself.
"The same for me," Harry confirmed, giving Wendy their order before she hurried off to fulfill it.
"Harry, what's a coke?" Bellatrix queried, her curiosity piqued.
Harry's grin widened. "You'll have to experience it for yourself."
Around five minutes later, their food arrived, distracting Harry momentarily from observing the bustling activity in the alley.
"Here you go, I hope you enjoy," Wendy said, delicately placing their sandwiches and drinks on the table.
"Thank you, Wendy," Harry expressed with genuine gratitude, causing a slight blush to tint the waitress's cheeks.
"If you need anything else, just let me know," Wendy added, batting her eyes at Harry before gliding over to attend to another table of patrons.
"If that little bint bats her eyes at you again, I'll rip out her dyed hair," Bellatrix grumbled, taking a hearty bite of her sandwich.
"Easy, Bella," Harry cautioned, a hint of wariness in his tone.
"I am always nice," Bellatrix retorted petulantly, her gaze still fixed on the unsuspecting waitress.
"Speaking of niceties, how's the drink?" Harry interjected, attempting to shift the conversation.
Bellatrix took the glass, sipped the fizzy concoction, and her eyes widened in surprise. "This is amazing! What is it?"
"A muggle drink I'm rather fond of," Harry replied casually, taking a bite of his sandwich.
"What?!" Bellatrix exclaimed loudly, drawing a few curious glances from nearby patrons.
"You heard me. Keep it together, and I'll do that thing you like tonight," Harry whispered, his voice low but firm.
Bellatrix actually blushed, but she nodded and took another sip, glaring at the glass as if it had personally wronged her.
After finishing their lunch and settling the bill, Harry guided them to 'Fortescue's Ice Cream' for a delightful sundae, the promise of a sweet treat smoothing over any lingering tension.
As they settled into their seats at an outdoor table, a burst of excitement interrupted their conversation. A little girl's voice rang out, "Harry, will you buy me an ice cream?" Harry turned to find Tonks and Andromeda approaching, fresh from their visit to the apothecary.
"Sure, Tonks. And how about you, Andy?" Harry offered generously.
"Yes, please," Andromeda replied gratefully as Harry handed a galleon to Tonks, allowing her to place the order for herself and her mother.
"You're spoiling her, you know," Andromeda remarked, shaking her head with a fond smile.
"Not too much, I hope?" Harry inquired, a hint of concern in his voice.
"No, it's fine. She doesn't have many friends because of her metamorph abilities," Andromeda explained, a note of sadness in her tone.
"She'll make friends at Hogwarts," Harry reassured her optimistically.
"I hope so. Where have you two been? We swung by Grimmauld at lunch, and Kreacher said you were out for the day," Andromeda inquired, curiosity etched across her features, while Tonks returned with their ice creams and handed her a mint chocolate chip cone.
"Gringotts—it ran longer than expected," Harry explained, taking a moment to enjoy a spoonful of strawberry ice cream.
"And did you finally get an identity?" Andromeda inquired quietly.
"Yes, I'm now legally Harry James Peverell, though magically, I'm still simply Reaper," Harry stated with a casual shrug.
Turning her attention to Bellatrix, Andromeda noted her sister's grumpy expression. "How has your day been, Bella?"
"The bank was boring, then this little bint of a waitress flirted with Harry, and then Harry made me drink a coke, but he did promise to lick my nethers later if I behave," Bellatrix answered, causing Andromeda to sputter into her ice cream cone.
"Mum, what are nethers?" Tonks asked loudly, prompting Harry to blush crimson and Andromeda to shoot daggers at her smirking sister.
"I'll tell you when you're older," Andromeda replied, clearly annoyed with Bellatrix. Trying to steer the conversation elsewhere, Harry interjected, "Anyway, have you heard from Narcissa today?"
"Ah, she told me to inform you that you're both invited for dinner at Malfoy Manor tomorrow at five," Andromeda revealed, visibly grateful for the shift in topic.
"Excellent! I've been getting a bit stir-crazy at Grimmauld," Harry exclaimed with a wide grin, appreciating the prospect of a change in scenery.
"You still haven't taught me how to dive yet," Tonks interjected eagerly, having polished off the last bite of her hot fudge sundae.
Yesterday, Harry had visited the Tonks home, offering Nymphadora her first flying lesson for beginners. Surprisingly, she took to flying much better than Harry had anticipated and displayed a natural talent on a broomstick.
Despite her promising skills, Harry held reservations about teaching her anything too risky. Truth be told, Andromeda scared the hell out of him, and he wasn't keen on facing her wrath should her daughter get injured under his tutelage.
"I think we'll hold off on that for a while," Harry said gently, sensing Tonks' disappointment.
"But I can fly great!" Tonks protested, pouting.
"I believe Harry would rather you didn't get hurt, Nymphadora," Andromeda interjected, coming to Harry's rescue and putting an end to the impending argument.
"Fine," Tonks conceded with a pout.
"There will be plenty of time for that at Hogwarts," Harry consoled her.
"That's two years away!" Tonks argued.
"And by then, you'll be the best flyer in your year," Harry pointed out, trying to appease her.
Breaking the tension, Andromeda shifted the conversation. "I received a letter from Sirius this morning. He asked me to help him prepare a room for Harry. He's picking him up from the Dursleys on the eighth."
"Good. Why is he waiting so long, though?" Harry inquired curiously.
"Like most men, he's terrified of raising a child," Andromeda remarked with a smirk.
"That is completely untrue," Harry defended himself.
"Of course it is, dear," Andromeda replied patronizingly, her tone playful yet teasing.
Before Harry could press further in his defense, a nasty yellow spell came hurtling towards their table. Acting on pure reflex, Harry cast a protective shield over their party, watching as the spell slammed into the barrier before fizzling out.
Turning his attention to the source, Harry saw an enraged older woman sporting a vulture hat in the middle of the street, already raising her wand for another attack.
"Andromeda, get Tonks out of here. I'll deal with this," Harry ordered, his tone firm and decisive.
Before he could take further action, there was a sharp 'pop' beside him, and Bellatrix materialized in front of Augusta Longbottom, her wand already in motion.
"Fuck!" Harry exclaimed, reacting swiftly by disapparating and reappearing behind the Longbottom matriarch, his wand pressed to the back of her neck.
"Harry, let me deal with her," Bellatrix's voice came, deadly calm and collected.
"Not here. There are children all over this alley," Harry responded, maintaining a level of discretion. He pressed his wand hard into Augusta's neck, speaking very quietly, "If you ever try to attack me in the company of a child again, I will kill you myself."
"You can try. This witch destroyed my son's mind, and I will have my vengeance," Augusta retorted, lowering her wand and glaring into his eyes.
"I don't think you will unless you want me to force-feed you one of those chocolate bars you sent to Azkaban," Harry whispered, his tone menacing. The woman visibly paled. "We'll meet again," Augusta declared before disapparating, her face revealing barely contained fury.
"Why did you stop me?!" Bellatrix demanded angrily, drawing the attention of a growing crowd.
Harry moved closer to Bella before explaining, "She basically lost her son because of your dead husband. Nothing would have been gained by fighting her, and there are too many children in this alley."
Glancing at their table, Harry noticed a terrified Tonks looking their way, while Andromeda had her wand out, surveying the alley with caution.
"Fine, thanks for thwarting the spell. I wasn't paying attention," Bellatrix muttered quietly before enveloping him in a grateful embrace.
"It's going to be okay," Harry reassured her, his hand gently rubbing her back in a soothing motion.
"I had just hoped, after the trial, I would have the chance for a fresh start," Bellatrix confided, releasing him and making her way back to her sister.
"Wow, Harry, you moved so quickly," Tonks exclaimed with awe in her voice.
"It's just basic combat magic. I'll teach you how to do it when you're older," Harry replied, taking a seat and letting out a sigh.
"I didn't see a point in leaving; Bella was drawing her attention away from us," Andromeda stated primly.
"That old bat had no idea what she was walking into," Harry said wearily.
"She looked terrified when you appeared behind her," Bellatrix added with a smirk.
"I really wish she wasn't being so rash. If a duel broke out in the alley, it could have only ended up hurting an innocent bystander," Harry sighed, glancing around the crowded alley. Families were scattered all over, enjoying a day out with their children.
Tonks leaned in, her curiosity piqued. "Do you think she'll be back for more?"
Harry shook his head, thoughtful. "I hope not, but we need to be prepared. The Wizarding world is far from peaceful these days."
Andromeda nodded in agreement. "We can't let our guard down. The dark forces are always lingering."
As they continued their conversation, the bustling sounds of Diagon Alley served as a backdrop to their concerns. The shop windows glittered with magical displays, and the laughter of children echoed through the air. Despite the threat that loomed, life in the magical world carried on, seemingly undisturbed by the recent confrontation.
Before Harry could dwell on it any longer, a team of Aurors materialized, fanning out and interrogating the crowd. Among them was a very familiar Auror with a fake leg and a magical eye, who proceeded to question several people before making his way over to them.
"What can you lot tell me about the disturbance here a few minutes ago?" Alastor Moody inquired, his magical eye darting between them.
"Augusta Longbottom fired a spell at my sister, completely unprovoked. Harry and Bellatrix confronted her, though neither cast a single offensive spell," Andromeda explained on behalf of the group.
Moody, with his grizzled appearance, furrowed his brow. "What spell did she cast?" he asked, penning down notes in a weathered notepad.
"Organ-rupturing curse," Harry replied with simmering anger.
"What's your name, lad?" Moody inquired, fixing his intense gaze on Harry.
"Harry Peverell," Harry responded, meeting Moody's eye with unwavering determination.
"Right, I'll need a memory of the event from someone not directly involved. Would you mind giving me a memory, Mrs. Tonks?" Moody requested, stowing away his notebook.
"Alright," Andromeda agreed, accepting the vial offered by Moody. She drew forth the memory of the event from her mind and carefully placed it into the vial.
Moody scrutinized the vial for a moment, his magical eye whirring. "This should help in the investigation. We'll need to take statements from everyone involved. Make sure to be available for further questioning if needed," he instructed, his tone authoritative.
As the Aurors continued their inquiries, the bustling atmosphere of Diagon Alley seemed to stand still for a moment, the gravity of the situation casting a temporary shadow over the magical hub. The enchanting glow of storefronts clashed with the stern expressions of Aurors, creating an unusual tableau of magic and vigilance.
"You lot have a nice day," Moody grunted before stomping off to question another lady a few tables over.
"I don't know why he's bothering to investigate. Augusta Longbottom won't be charged with anything," Andromeda muttered unhappily.
"No, she's very well connected. I'm surprised they aren't just obliviating everyone," Harry remarked thoughtfully.
"That's easy. It is against the law to obliviate anyone under the age of seventeen," Andromeda explained.
"Except Mudbloods whose parents refuse to enroll them into Hogwarts. ICW law trumps the Ministry," Bellatrix added with a touch of disdain.
The group soon departed from the alley, making their way home. The day had proceeded relatively well, except for the unsettling incident in front of the ice cream shop. The vibrant magical world continued to unfold around them, the incongruity of friendly storefronts and the lurking shadows of political influence creating a dichotomy that mirrored the complexities of the wizarding society.
As they walked away, the echoes of Diagon Alley faded, replaced by the sounds of their footsteps against the cobblestones. The camaraderie within the group, forged through shared challenges and a tumultuous past, remained unbroken despite the lingering tension in the air. Each step carried them away from the magical marketplace, but the events of the day would undoubtedly leave a lasting imprint on their collective consciousness.
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