Griphook

What was the biggest betrayal in Harry Potter?

Well for me it was Peter Pettigrews betrayal, like-

And Griphook leaving the 3 to almost die :/

(i know there are much more betrayals in Harry Potter but these where the first two lines that popped up in my head so i just wanted to say em)

First half of book:

https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003829962

Previous Chapters:

https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003833123

https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003838588

https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003840013

https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003841380

https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003842029

https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003842653

Tags:

@SaphireStark @Missy Clara Oswald @CatsAndRoblox @Pervaza972 @Mega.mind.harry.potter

Chapter Twenty-Five: Gringotts

(I changed the canon slightly on how the two curses in the vault work, it was the best option for how I want to depict this chapter.)

Their plans were made, their preparations complete; in the smallest bedroom a single long, coarse black hair (plucked from the sweater Tracey had been wearing at Malfoy Manor that she insisted was not her own or Allison’s) lay curled in a small glass phial on the mantelpiece.

‘You’ll have to switch wands until we’re securely inside so that Allison has Bellatrix’s,’ said Harry on the eve before they broke into Gringotts, nodding toward the walnut wand, ‘with it I reckon you’ll be pretty convincing.’

Tracey looked frightened that the wand might sting or bite her as she picked it up.

‘Good, I hate this thing,’ she said in a low voice. ‘It literally tortured me, it feels wrong in my hand, and it resists me when I do spells. I’ll be happy to use the cedar wand for a few hours.’

‘Just as long as you’re careful in return,’ said Allison in a kind but warning tone. ‘Fairy wing core wands can be…unpredictable.’

‘I’ll be ok, Alli, besides, you having her wand will probably help you get into character,’ said Tracey. ‘Just try and channel the actions of the wand.’

‘I don’t really want to do that at all if I can avoid it,’ admitted Allison. ‘This wand has hurt so many, including people we know. It hurt you, tortured poor Neville’s parents into insanity, and this is the wand that killed Sirius!’

Harry had not thought of that: He looked down at the wand and was visited by a brutal urge to snap it into several pieces, then burn what remained in the hottest fire he could make.

‘Sorry,’ said Allison when she saw Harry’s expression, ‘I just miss my old wand, my mother spent days working on it for me when I was about to turn eleven. I worked hard on my new one, but it just isn’t the same.’

‘I miss mine too, I hate the thought of it still being at Malfoy Manor, possibly being used by Bellatrix as a replacement for this one,’ said Tracey holding up the walnut wand.

‘Mine as well,’ said Theodore. ‘But maybe when this is all over Mr Ollivander will make the three of us new wands too, maybe you too Allison if you want.’

Mr Ollivander had sent Luna a new wand that morning. She was out on the back lawn at that moment, testing its capabilities in the late afternoon sun. Dean, who had lost his wand to the Snatchers, was watching rather gloomily.

Harry looked down at the hawthorn wand that had once belonged to Draco Malfoy. He had been surprised, but pleased to discover that it worked for him at least as well as Tracey’s had done. Remembering what Ollivander had told them of the secret workings of wands, Harry thought he knew what Tracey’s problem was: She had not won the walnut wand’s allegiance by taking it personally from Bellatrix, Allison had, and the little disarming stunt she had made Tracey do hadn’t broken the wands loyalty.

The door of the bedroom opened and Griphook entered. Harry reached instinctively by rolling his eyes, but regretted his action at once. He could tell that the goblin had noticed. Seeking to gloss over the sticky moment, he said, ‘We’ve just been checking the last-minute stuff, Griphook. We’ve told Tonks and Tulip we’re leaving tomorrow, and we’ve told them not to get up to see us off.’

They had been firm on this point, because Allison needed to transform in Bellatrix before they left and Theodore take a large dose of Aging Potion, and the less that Tonks and Tulip knew or suspected about what they were about to do, the better. They had also explained that they would not be returning. As they had lost Theodore’s tent on the night that the Snatcher’s caught them, Tonks had lent them another one. It was now packed inside the purse, which, Allison had snatched back before they Apparated away from Malfoy Manor. They said their goodbyes early in the evening of the night before, it was hard, but necessary.

Though he would miss Tonks, Tulip, Luna, Dean, and baby Teddy, not to mention the home comforts they had enjoyed over the last couple weeks, Harry was looking forward to escaping the confinement of the cottage. He was tired of trying to make sure that they were not overheard, tired of being shut in the tiny, dark bedroom. Most of all, he longed to be rid of Griphook.

However, precisely when they would part from the Goblin after successfully entering Bellatrix’s vault was still unknown. It had been impossible to decide when that would be, because the goblin rarely left Harry, Theodore, Allison, and Tracey alone together for more than five minutes at a time. With Bill’s warning in mind, Harry could not help suspecting that Griphook was planning something.

Harry slept badly that night. Lying awake in the early hours, he thought back to the way he had felt the night before they had infiltrated the Ministry of Magic and remembered a determination, almost an excitement. Now he was experiencing jolts of anxiety nagging doubts: He could not shake off the fear that it was all going to go wrong. He kept telling himself that their plan was good, that Griphook knew what they were facing, that they were well-prepared for all the difficulties they were likely to encounter, yet still he felt uneasy. Once or twice he heard Theodore stir and was sure that he too was awake, but they were sharing the sitting room with Dean, so Harry did not speak.

It was a relief when six o’clock arrived and they could slip out of their sleeping bags, dress in the semidarkness, Theodore took the potion he had made, then creep out into the garden, where they were to meet Allison, Tracey, and Griphook.

The dawn was chilly, but there was little wind now that it was May. Harry looked up at the stars still glimmering palely in the dark sky and listened to the wind whistling through the forest and nearby farmlands: He was going to miss the sound.

Small green shoots were forcing their way up through the red earth of Dobby’s grave now, in a year’s time the mound would be covered in flowers. The white stone that bore the elf’s name had already acquired a weathered look. He realized now that they could hardly have laid Dobby to rest in a more beautiful place, but Harry ached with sadness to think of leaving him behind. Looking down on the grave, he wondered yet again how the elf had known where to come to rescue them. His fingers moved absentmindedly to the little pouch still strung around his neck, thorough which he could feel the jagged mirror fragment in which he had been sure he had seen Dumbledore’s eye. Then the sound of a door opening made him look around.

Bellatrix Lestrange was striding across the lawn toward them, accompanied by Griphook and Tracey who tucked her purse into her robe’s pocket. Griphook had a small bag over his shoulder currently holding the tiara and would carry the helmet once they entered the vault. Allison was wearing the black Snatcher-like robes she had worn when she had saved him from the locket. Though Harry knew perfectly well that it was really his girlfriend, he could not suppress a shiver of loathing.

She was taller than he was, her long curly black hair rippling down her back, her heavily lidded eyes disdainful as they rested upon him; but then she spoke, and he could hear some of Allison’s mannerisms through Bellatrix’s low voice.

‘She tastes absolutely revolting, I was afraid that I would throw the potion back up. Oh Theo, you look terrible too…’

‘I feel terrible too.’

Harry looked to his foster brother and saw that the large dose of Aging Potion had taken effect. Theodore was now sporting silvery white hair and matching long beard, and had a weathered old face covered in liver spots. He greatly resembled his father, but unlike Allison’s disguise it wasn’t perfect. His eyes weren’t quite the same shape as his father's, and Theodore’s skin was a couple shades darker. To combat this he was wearing very old robes taken from Orion Black’s closet in Grimmauld Place, and a black fancy cloak with a hood that he now pulled up to encase his head in partial shadow.

So Theodore and Allison were supposed to go in as Morgan Nott and Bellatrix Lestrange, and they were trusting to the malevolent aura cast by Bellatrix to protect her and Theo. Meanwhile Harry, Tracey, and Griphook were to be concealed under the Invisibility Cloak.

‘How do I look?’ asked Allison.

‘Not my type, but it’s what’s on the inside that counts,’ said Harry cheekily. ‘You both look the part. Shall we go, then?’

All four of them glanced back at Shell Cottage, lying dark and silent under the fading stars, then turned and began to walk toward the point, just beyond the boundary wall, where the Fidelius Chard stopped working and they would be able to Disapparate. Once past the gate, Griphook spoke.

‘I should climb up now, Harry Potter, I think?’

Harry bent down and the goblin clambered onto his back, his hands linked on front of Harry’s throat. He was not heavy, but Harry disliked the feeling of the goblin and the surprising strength with which he clung on. Tracey pulled the Invisibility Cloak out of her purse and threw it over herself, Harry, and Griphook.

‘Brilliant,’ said Theodore, slowly bending down to check Harry and Tracey’s feet. ‘You three are completely invisible. We’re ready.’

Harry turned on the spot, with Griphook on his shoulders and Tracey holding onto his arm, concentrating with all his might on the Leaky Cauldron, the inn that was the entrance to Diagon Alley. The goblin clung even tighter as they moved into the compressing darkness, and seconds later Harry’s feet found pavement and he opened his eyes on Charing Cross Road. Muggles bustled past wearing the hangdog expressions of early morning, quite unconscious of the little inn’s existence.

The bar of the Leaky Cauldron was nearly deserted. Tom, the kind stooped and toothless landlord, was polishing glasses behind the bar counter miserably; a couple of warlocks having a muttered conversation in the far corner glanced at Allison and Theodore and drew back into the shadows.

‘Madam Lestrange, Mr Nott,’ murmured Tom, and as the two paused he inclined his head subserviently. This seemed to take Allison off guard.

‘Morning,’ she said, and as Harry crept past with Tracey, still carrying Griphook piggyback under the Cloak, he saw Tom look surprised.

‘She is a cruel witch, you have to be convincing,’ Harry heard Theodore whisper as they all passed out of the Inn into the tiny backyard. ‘My voice will give me away, so you have to do the talking for the both of us.’

‘She’s doing the best she can,’ whispered back Tracey.

‘No he’s right, I was being stupid. I can’t just play off of what others say,’ said Allison, agreeing with Theodore. ‘I have to give responses that match what she would do.

Allison drew out Bellatrix’s wand and rapped a brick in the nondescript wall in front of them. At once the bricks began to whirl and spin: A hole appeared in the middle of them, which grew wider and wider, finally forming an archway onto the narrow cobbled street that was Diagon Alley.

It was quiet, barely time for the shops to open, and there were hardly any shoppers abroad. The crooked, cobbled street was much altered now from the bustling place Harry had visited before his first term at Hogwarts so many years before. More shops than ever were boarded up, though several new establishments dedicated to the Dark Arts had been created since his last visit. Harry’s own face glared down at him from posters plastered over many windows, always captioned with the words:

“Undesirable Number One!”

A number of ragged people sat huddled in doorways. He heard them moaning to the few passersby, pleading for gold, insisting that they were really wizards. One man had a bloody bandage over his eye.

As they set off along the street, the beggars glimpsed Allison and Theodore. They seemed to melt away before them, drawing hoods over their faces and fleeing as fast as they could. Theodore looked after them curiously, until the man with the bloodied bandage came staggering right across her path.

‘My children,’ he bellowed, pointing at her. His voice was cracked, high-pitched, he sounded distraught. ‘Where are my children? What has he done with them? You know, you know!’

‘Er–excuse me—‘ said Allison with some attitude, but Harry could tell there was still some hesitation in her voice.

The man lunged at her, reaching for her throat. Then, with a bang and a burst of red light he was thrown backward onto the ground, unconscious. Theodore stood there, Wormtail’s wand still outstretched, and even behind the shadow of his hood Harry could tell it pained him to stun an innocent man.

Faces appeared at the windows on either side of the street, while a little knot of prosperous-looking passerby gathered their robes about them and broke into gentle trots, keen to vacate the scene. Their entrance into Diagon Alley could hardly have been more conspicuous; for a moment Harry wondered whether it might not be better to leave now and try to think of a different plan. Before they could move or consult one another, however, they heard a cry from behind them.

‘Why, Nott, Madam Lestrange!’

Harry whirled around and Griphook tightened his hold around Harry’s neck: A tall, thin wizard with a crown of bushy gray hair and a long, sharp nose was striding toward them.

‘It’s Travers,’ hissed the goblin into Harry’s ear, but at that moment Harry could not think who Travers was. Allison had drawn herself up to full height and said with as much contempt as she could muster:

‘It’s early, what do you want?’

Travers stopped in his tracks, clearly affronted.

‘He’s another Death Eater!’ breathed Griphook, and Harry sidled sideways to repeat the information into the other two’s ears.

‘I merely sought to greet you both,’ said Travers coolly, ‘but if my presence is not welcome…’

Harry recognized his voice now: Travers was one of the Death Eaters who had been summoned to Xenophilius’ house.

‘No, you may walk with us if you wish,’ said Allison as calmly as she could, trying to cover up her mistake. ‘What is on your mind?’

‘Well, I confess I am surprised to see you out and about, Bellatrix.’

‘And why is that?’ asked Allison.

‘Well,’ Travers coughed, ‘I heard that the Inhabitants of Malfoy Manor were confined to the house, after the…ah…escape.’

Harry willed his two friends to keep their heads. If this was true, and Bellatrix was not supposed to be out in public, then they were potentially in great danger. Thankfully Allison and Theodore were the right people for the job.

‘Ha!’ cackled Theodore sarcastically.

‘For my impenitent brother-in-law and his Half-breed son perhaps,’ said Allison in a magnificent imitation of Bellatrix’s most contemptuous manner. ‘I am the Dark Lord’s most loyal servant however. That gives me privileges you can not fathom. It would do you good not to believe every rumour you hear.’

Though the Death Eater looked offended, he also seemed less suspicious. He glanced down at the man Theodore had just Stunned.

‘How did it offend you?’

‘It tried to talk to me when it should have known it was the dirt beneath my feet,’ said Allison coolly.

‘Some of these wandless can be troublesome,’ said Travers. ‘While they do nothing but beg I have no objection, but one of them actually asked me to plead her case in the Ministry last week. "I’m a witch, sir, I’m a witch, let me prove it to you!”’ he said in a squeaky impersonation. ‘As if I was going to give her my wand—but whose wand,’ said Travers curiously, ‘are you using at the moment, Bellatrix? I heard that your own was—‘

‘I have my wand here,’ said Allison coldly, holding up Bellatrix’s wand. ‘You have been played for a fool, Travers, all this misinformation fed to you that you didn’t think twice about.’

Travers seemed a little taken aback at that, and he turned instead to Theodore.

‘And why are you out and about so early today, Nott.’

‘Humph,’ Theodore grumbled, hoping his nonverbal response would be intimidating enough for Travers not to speak to him again.

‘Same as you, bothering me as I try and go about my business,’ said Allison, bringing the attention back to herself.

‘Er-so what does brings you and to Diagon Alley this early?’ asked Travers.

‘I need to visit Gringotts,’ said Allison simply.

‘Alas, I also,’ said Travers. ‘Gold, filthy gold! We cannot live without it, yet I confess I deplore the necessity of consorting with our long-fingered friends.’

Harry felt Griphook’s clasped hands tighten momentarily around his neck.

‘Shall we?’ said Travers, gesturing the other two forward.

They had no choice, Theodore gave a half nod to Travers, and then they both fell into step beside him and head along the crooked, cobbled street toward the place where the snowy-white Gringotts stood towering over the other little shops. Harry, Tracey, and Griphook followed.

A watchful Death Eater was the very last thing they needed, and the worst of it was, with Travers matching at what he believed to be Bellatrix’s side, there was no safe means for Harry to communicate with Allison or Theodore. All too soon they arrived at the foot of the marble steps leading up to the great bronze doors. As Griphook had already warned them, the liveried goblins who usually flanked the entrance had been replaced by two wizards, both of whom were clutching long thin golden rods.

‘Ah, Probity Probes,’ signed Travers theatrically, ‘so crude—but so effective!’

And he set off up the steps, nodding left and right to the wizards, who raised the golden rods and passed them up and down his body. The Probes, Harry knew, detected spells of concealment and hidden magical objects. Knowing that they had only seconds, Harry pointed Draco’s wand at the guard on the left and Tracey did the same with the one on the right, and each each of the guards in turn and murmured, ‘Confundo’. Unnoticed by Travers, who was looking through the bronze doors at the inner hall, each of the guards gave a little start as the spells hit them.

Allison’s long curly black hair rippled behind her as she climbed the steps.

‘One moment, madam,’ said the guard, raising his Probe.

‘Why, you’ve already scanned us!’ said Allison in Bellatrix’s commanding, arrogant voice. Travers looked around, eyebrows raised. The guard was confused. He stared down at the thin golden Probe and then at his companion, who said in a slightly dazed voice, ‘Yeah, you’ve just checked them, Marius.’

Allison swept forward. Theodore by her side, Harry, Tracey and Griphook trotting invisibly behind them. Harry glanced back as they crossed the threshold. The wizards were both scratching their heads.

Two goblins stood before the inner doors, which were made of silver and which carried the poem warning of dire retribution to potential thieves. Harry looked up at it, and all of a sudden a knife-sharp memory came to him: standing on this very spot on the day that he had turned eleven, the birthday he first was allowed to access his own vault, a birthday where he, Canini, Remus, and Sirius had all been together…

Gringotts had seemed a place of wonder that day, learning the exact amount of the enchanted repository of a gold left to him from his birth parents, and never for an instant could he have dreamed that he would return to steal…But within seconds they were standing in the vast marble hall of the bank.

The long counter was manned by goblins sitting on high stools serving the first customers of the day. Allison, Theodore, and Travers headed toward an old goblin who was examining a thick gold coin through an eyeglass. Allison allowed Travers to step ahead of her on the pretext of having a private matter she wished to discuss with Theodore.

The goblin tossed the coin he was holding aside, said to nobody in particular, ‘Leprechaun,’ and then greeted Travers, who passed over a tiny golden key, which was examined and given back to him.

Allison stepped forward.

‘Madam Lestrange!’ said the goblin, evidently startled. ‘Dear me! How—how may I help you today?’

‘I wish to enter my vault,’ said Allison.

The old goblin seemed to recoil a little. Harry glanced around. Not only was Travers hanging back, watching, but several other goblins had looked up from their work to stare at Allison.

‘You have…identification?’ asked the goblin.

‘Identification? I hardly think that will be necessary!’ said Allison coldly and confidently.

‘They know!’ whispered Griphook in Harry’s ear, ‘They must have been warned there might be an imposter!’

‘Your wand will do, madam,’ said the goblin. He held out a slightly trembling hand, and in a dreadful blast of realization Harry knew that the goblins of Gringotts were aware that Bellatrix’s wand had been stolen.

‘Harry, we have to do something!’ whispered Tracey in a panic.

‘Act now, act now,’ whispered Griphook in Harry’s ear, ‘the Imperious Curse!’

Harry raised the hawthorn wand beneath the cloak, pointed it at the old goblin, and whispered, for the first time in his life, ‘Imperio!’

A curious sensation shot down Harry’s arm, a feeling of tingling, warmth that seemed to flow from his mind, down the sinews and veins connecting him to the wand and the curse it had just cast. The goblin took Bellatrix’s wand, examined it closely, and then said, ‘Ah, you have had a new wand made, Madam Lestrange!’

‘Er, pardon?’ said Allison, now quite confused.

First half of book:

https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003829962

Previous Chapters:

https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003833123

https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003838588

https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003840013

https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003841380

https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003842029

Tags:

@SaphireStark @Missy Clara Oswald @CatsAndRoblox @Pervaza972 @Interested.me @Mega.mind.harry.potter

Chapter Twenty-Four: Family

Tonks and Tulip’s cottage was surrounded by thick forest and was the only property on the north side of the lake that Harry could see, it was a simple design and reminded him of Mould-On-The-Wold Cottage but with a more creative colour scheme. It was a lonely and beautiful place. Whenever Harry was outside the tiny cottage or its garden, he could hear the constant melody of wind off the trees and the surface of the small lake.

The afternoon after they had all been rescued by Dobby nearly everyone was resting, all except for Harry, Theodore, and Allison who still had work to do. Allison had managed to snag back Tracey’s purse before they escaped Malfoy Manor, which meant three out of four friends were researching what Griphook had meant by payment other than gold. It was past four when Theodore triumphantly held up his copy of A History of Magic.

‘I think I found it. According to this small passage about how the 1752 Goblin Rebellion started, Goblins view all goblin-made items as their own property. More specifically they view the rightful owner of a goblin object is the maker, not the purchaser. If the maker is no longer alive then the object belongs to all goblins. Any goblin made item bought by another creature they view as rented for that creature’s lifetime and should be returned upon that creature’s death.’

‘Alright, that’s brilliant and all,’ said Allison, ‘but how does that help us pay Griphook. Does anyone have any goblin made items whose human owners are now dead in their possession that we didn’t know about until now.’

‘Ha ha, no,’ said Theodore mockingly in response to her sarcasm. ‘I’m certain however that we can find one…eventually.’

They sat quietly for a minute, then Harry remembered something and stood up.

‘Where are you going?’ asked Allison.

‘You two get some rest now, I think I have this figured out. I’m going to go call in a favour.’

Harry made his way to the kitchen where he found Tonks sitting at the kitchen island preparing dinning by magic while simultaneously writing a letter by hand.

‘You out of everybody should be resting,’ said Harry calmly as he sat down next to her.

‘This baby is keeping me awake anyway, so I might as well make food for everyone for when they wake up,’ said his beloved cousin as she looked up from her letter.

‘Thank you for everything, by the way. I know right now you probably want to focus on preparing for you and Tulip’s baby.’

‘We spent the last seven months preparing, we’re already as ready as we’re going to be. Harry, don’t ever worry about coming to me for help, I will always be there for you if you need me.’

This managed to get a small smile out of him, probably his very first since the last Potterwatch broadcast.

‘Who are you writing?’

‘My mum, despite everything that has just happened I still received an owl from her just now asking if she could still come over tonight for an Easter supper. As much as I wish I could see her right now I think for today we all just need to rest and heal,’ she paused, then sighed. ‘I think in reality she wants to see me as much as possible because she really is missing dad…’

Harry’s face drooped, and some tears welled up in Tonks’ eyes.

‘I’m really sorry about your dad. I was heartbroken when I heard on Potterwatch.’

‘I miss him dreadfully, but your friend Dean’s arrival has brought me comfort. He told me that when the Snatchers found all of them it was Dirk Cresswell and my father who fended them off to give Dean and the goblins time to escape, although the other goblin didn’t make it. My dad died a hero, even though Dean and Griphook got captured a few days later, he bought them enough time to have run into you guys which led to their freedom.’

‘Then you should be very proud.’

‘I already was,’ she said, letting the tears run down her face.

Harry allowed Tonks a moment to recompose herself and send her letter, before asking her for the help he needed.

‘I need you to send another message. Can the Patronus messenger go long range?’

‘I don’t know if it can reach far away countries, but it should be able to be received by its target anywhere in the UK. Why, who do you need to send a message to?’

‘Fleur Weasley. Tell her I’m calling in a favour for saving her sister’s life,’ that was not, strictly speaking, true, as Gabrielle had never been in real danger, but neither Harry nor Fleur had known that at the time and so Harry’s actions in saving her had been genuine. ‘Tell her I need her to send Muriel Prewett’s goblin-made tiara here, that it will be returned if possible, but there is a chance it won’t.’

And Tonks nodded.

Harry spent much of the next couple days making excuses to escape the crowded cottage, walking along the shore of the quiet lake, distant farm land under work, the cool spring breeze that swept through the trees as well as across his face. The enormity of his decision not to race Voldemort to the wand still scared Harry. He could not remember, ever before, choosing not to act. He was full of doubts, doubts that Tracey could not help voicing whenever they were together.

‘What if Dumbledore wanted us to work out the symbol in time to get the wand?’ ‘What if working out what the symbol meant made you “worthy” to get the Hallows?’ ‘Harry, if that really is the Elder Wand, how in the world are we supposed to finish off You-Know-Who?’

Harry had no answers: There were moments when he wondered whether it had been outright madness not to try to prevent Voldemort breaking open the tomb. He could not even explain satisfactorily why he had decided against it: Every time he tried to reconstruct the internal arguments that had led to his decision, they sounded feebler to him.

The odd thing was that Theodore’s support made him feel just as confused as Tracey’s doubts. Now forced to accept that the Elder Wand was real, he maintained that it was an evil object, and that the way Voldemort had taken possession of it was repellent, not to be considered.

‘How would you have prevented it anyway, Harry?’ he said over and over again. ‘Would you have broken into Dumbledore’s tomb and taken the wand before he arrived. Would you have been able to do that?’

But the idea of Dumbledore’s corpse frightened Harry much less than the possibility that he might have misunderstood the living Dumbledore’s intentions. He felt that he was still grasping in the dark; he had chosen his path but kept looking back, wondering whether he had misread the signs, whether he should not have taken the other way. It was only Allison who understood he needed moments alone away from everyone else, anytime the other two began asking him to many questions she would intervene and help him gain half an hour or so alone.

From time to time, anger at Dumbledore crashed over Harry again, powerful as the waves slamming themselves against the cliff beneath the cottage, anger that Dumbledore had not explained before he died.

‘If he’s truly dead,’ said Tracey the morning of the second day after they had arrived at the cottage. They had just begun eating breakfast, no one but the four were currently awake, and Harry had been staring out at the wall that separated the garden from the forest.

‘Trace, you’re my best friend, but that’s insane!’

‘Maybe, but think about it,’ said Tracey, speaking across Harry, who continued to gaze at the wall and the forest. ‘His Deluminator bringing you back to us. The silver doe. Me finding the fang when I thought about Dumbledore. The blue eye Harry saw in the mirror—‘

‘But Tracey, Harry admitted that the stress from the situation could have made him imagine them!’ said Theodore. ‘Right, Harry?’

‘I could have,’ said Harry without looking at him.

‘But is that really what you believe?’ asked Tracey.

‘No, I don’t,’ said Harry.

‘That’s what I thought,’ whispered Tracey quickly, before Allison gave her a dirty look. She looked hesitant, but continued. ‘But if it wasn’t Dumbledore who sent Dobby, then how did he know not only where we were, but that you were in the cellar?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Theodore, ‘but how could Dumbledore have sent it when he is dead encased in marble at Hogwarts?’

‘Perhaps it was his ghost?’ suggested Tracey.

‘Dumbledore wouldn’t come back as a ghost,’ said Harry. There was little about Dumbledore he was sure of now, but he knew that much. ‘He would have gone on.’

‘Sorry? “Gone on”?’ asked Tracey.

But before Harry or Allison could put an end to the constant questions for now, an owl flew through the open kitchen window and dropped a medium sized package in front of Harry along with a note.

“Grateful to help. All the luck.

Bien à vous,

Fleur”

Opening the package he found a worn velvet case, and inside was the tiara. Upon closer inspection from how he had seen it at the wedding Harry see how the silver had a unique shimmer that regular silver did not.

‘This should hopefully do it,’ Harry let out in a breath of relief.

‘Goodness, how beautiful,’ said the voice of Luna Lovegood who had appeared behind them.

‘Oh, morning Luna, didn’t see you there,’ said Allison.

‘Daddy’s made a tiara,’ piped up Luna, ‘Well, more of a crown, really.’

Tracey and Harry just looked at each other. Harry knew that she was remembering the ludicrous headdress they had seen on their visit to Xenophilius.

‘Yes, he’s trying to re-create the lost diadem of Ravenclaw. He thinks he’s identified most of the main elements now. Adding the billywig wings really made a difference.’

‘Yes, we saw it, it was quite…interesting,’ said Theodore. ‘Listen, Luna, we have to go upstairs for a bit. Enjoy breakfast.’

They made their way upstairs to the tiniest of the cottage’s three bedrooms, carrying with them the small velvet case. Harry knocked and Griphook beckoned them to come. He had drawn the red cotton curtains against the bright, cloudy sky, which gave the room a fiery glow at odds with the rest of the airy, light cottage.

‘I have reached my decision, Harry Potter,’ said the goblin, who was sitting cross-legged in a low chair, drumming its arms with his spindly fingers. ‘Though the goblins of Gringotts will consider it base treachery, I have decided to help you…for a price.’

‘That’s great!’ said Harry, further relief surging through him. ‘Griphook, thank you, we’re really—‘

‘—What,’ said the goblin firmly, ‘are you prepared to offer me.’

Harry held out the case and opened it. Griphook’s black eyes glittered; there were no whites to his eyes.

‘Moonstones and diamonds, goblin made, very impressive,’ said Griphook, and Harry’s heart raised. ‘However I know of the witch who paid for this, she is still alive. I will not accept an item that is still under lease.’

Harry’s spirits plummeted. He was about to panic, this was the only goblin-made item of value he could acquire, what was he going to do n—

‘What do you mean Muriel Prewett is alive?’ said Allison, stoic as ever. ‘She died of old age on September first, it was one of the few deaths the Daily Prophet actually reported.’

There was silence for a moment, Harry felt as though his heart was going to beat out of his chest. Then Griphook raised an eyebrow.

‘I do not read Wizarding papers, and I lost contact with the magical world soon after that date,’ said Griphook. ‘Is it true that the witch who possessed the tiara is now dead?’

‘Yes,’ said Theodore, backing up Allison’s story. ‘She was over a hundred and nine years old, the stress of the war was too much for her.’

Tracey frowned at the floor while Allison and Theodore were speaking; Harry felt irritated at her, afraid that she might give the game away. However, Griphook had eyes for nobody but Harry.

‘Hum,’ mumbled Griphook. ‘Very well, I will accept the tiara as payment.’

He held out his hand, but Harry did not give it to him.

‘You will receive the tiara as collateral, but the Weasley family wants the tiara back,’ explained Harry. ‘Once we’re inside the vault we’ll take the tiara back and you can take as much of the treasure inside as you—‘

Harry had said the wrong thing. Griphook flushed angrily.

‘I am not a thief, boy! I am not trying to procure treasures to which I have no right!’

‘But goblin treasure does not belong to any witch or wizard after they die, and I am certain there are some goblin artifacts in the vault that long predate Bellatrix or her husband,’ said Tracey quickly, possibly trying to make up for almost giving them away. ‘Besides, this is the vault of the woman who tortured us both, I would think you would be happy to gain a small amount of revenge.’

‘The silver helmet of Urg the Unclean and his men, great goblin revolutionaries, does lay uselessly in that vault,’ said Griphook slowly. ‘Very well. I have your word, Harry Potter, that you will give me now the tiara in agreement for helping you, and I shall return it and take the helmet once we’re inside the vault?’

‘Yes,’ said Harry.

‘Then hand over the tiara and shake,’ said the goblin, holding out his hand.

Harry did as he was told and took his hand and shook. He wondered whether those black eyes saw any misgivings in his own. Then Griphook relinquished him, clapped his hands together, and said, ‘So. We beg—‘

‘Errrg!’ came a loud moan from across the hall.

‘What was that?’ said Tracey.

The four friends exited the room and ran into Tulip exiting her and Tonks’ bedroom. She looked equally parts excited and equal parts terrified.

‘Is everything ok?’ asked Harry.

‘It’s time!’ she said in rapid speed. ‘Tonks is having the baby!’

‘Tonks-baby-‘ Harry’s brain just short-circuited.

‘Oh my goodness, oh my goodness,’ began Tracey.

‘Will she have to go to St. Mungo’s?’ asked Theodore.

‘It’s under Ministry control, too dangerous. I’m going to go fetch Chiara Lobosca,’ said Tulip as she quickly walked to the stairs. Another of Tonks’ moans could be heard coming from her room. ‘In the meantime, Allison you are the only one with a level head, go downstairs and get a bottle of Wiggenweld Potion, a bowl of hot water, and some towels. Keep her comfortable until I get back.’

Tulip was right to put Allison in charge, because Harry, Theodore, and Tracey continued to freak out while they waited for Tulip’s return, and once Luna and Dean figured out what was going on they joined in on the freaking out party in the living room. About a half-hour later Tulip returned with Chiara and a medical bag and the two went upstairs into Tonks’ room and Allison came back down.

The group became more calm as the day progressed. That didn’t stop the nerves however, Harry was pretty sure he did more walking that day as he paced around the house as he had going across the country the last seven months. They could hear Chiara, Tulip, and especially Nymphadora upstairs, but didn’t know how it was going.

It was only just before the sun began to set that a fourth sound entered the mix in the form of a new born’s cry, and shortly after Chiara came back downstairs.

‘It’s a healthy baby boy!’ she announced.

‘A boy, a baby boy!’ said Theodore as though he had never heard of such a thing.

‘How wonderful!’ said Allison, a wide smile on her face.

‘Babies born in April are exceptionally unpredictable,’ Luna said mystically as though reciting a rhyme.

‘When can we see them?’ asked Harry. He was eager to see the new life his cousin and her wife had created.

‘They are all resting right now and probably won’t want to be seen until morning,’ said Chiara as she put on her travelling cloak, ‘except for you Harry, they’d like to see you if you’re up to it.’

‘Oh?’ said Harry.

He made his way upstairs. Compared to the noise that had been coming from this floor most of the day it was now almost completely silent. He knocked on the door quietly, afraid of waking up the baby if it was asleep. Thankfully no crying followed his knock, but a soft, ‘Come in, Harry.’

He entered, and found the two women sitting upright on the bed. Tulip on top of the covers, and Tonks looking exhausted was under the covers while holding a tiny baby swaddled in a turquoise blanket. It was in that moment that Harry realized he didn’t know what to do, he had survived encounters with Voldemort five times, but when it came to his cousin holding her newborn baby he just stood there.

‘Er, congratulations Tonks,’ he managed to get out. ‘It’s a boy, um, right?’

Both Tonks and Tulip laughed.

‘Come over here Harry, it’s ok,’ said Tonks while gesturing with her head to approach.

He got over his nerves and practically ran over to the bed and down on its edge next to Tonks. He gave her a one arm hug, then looked down at the new life she had brought into the world. The baby had some pretty chubby cheeks for a new born, deep dark brown eyes like Tulip, and a wisp of mousy brown hair like Tonks did when she was born.

‘He’s adorable, and has your natural hair,’ said Harry with a smile.

‘Right now he does,’ said Tulip, and Harry looked up as she spoke, ‘but when he first came out it was tomato-red like mine.’

‘What…’ began Harry, and sure enough when he looked back at the baby it was now sporting jet black hair and emerald green eyes. ‘He’s a Metamorphmagus! Incredible!’

‘Yes, very incredible,’ said Tulip, kissing her wife on her temple.

‘We’ve chosen a name,’ said Tonks, in a serine tone.

‘Oh, let’s hear it,’ said Harry.

‘Well, we both lost our fathers in recent months, I also lost Mad-eye who was my beloved mentor, so while we admit it is a little silly we have chosen Edward Asahi-Alastor Karasu-Tonks,’ said Tonks. She then quickly added, ‘But we’ll be calling him Teddy for the most part.’

‘I think they would all be honoured,’ said Harry.

He once again looked down at the little baby and smiled. Harry wasn’t sure if he had felt this genuinely happy since Allison saved his life from the locket Horcrux.

‘If you think it’s safe, we’re planning on inviting Tonks’ mum and your dad and sister over tomorrow to meet the baby,’ said Tulip, now a little more serious.

‘Er, yes, it should be,’ said Harry, now a little too overwhelmed with emotions to think about the fact that meant he’d be seeing them for the first time in eight months. ‘They’ll know how to arrive safely.’

‘Just to be safe though we won’t be inviting the godmother, my best friend Merula, until things cool down here,’ continued Tulip. ‘Although we will be sending her pictures.’

‘And the godfather?’ Harry said absentmindedly.

Tonks and Tulip smiled at each other once more before Tonks spoke.

‘Will you be the godfather?’ she said with complete joy and sincerity.

‘M–me?’ stammered Harry.

‘Of course you—Flower and I have long been in agreement about that. There is no one we would want more.’

‘I—yeah—blimey—‘

Harry felt overwhelmed, astonished, and delighted. Godfather, he couldn’t believe it. Right then and there he promised to himself to be just as loving and reckless of a godfather to Teddy Karasu-Tonks as Sirius Black had been to him.

The rest of the evening went by in a blur. That night most of the household did not get much sleep, both from adrenaline and the fact that there was a crying newborn baby in the house. By the following morning everyone was an odd combination of exhausted and jittery, all except for Griphook who was just simply grouchy.

Harry had forgotten that Tulip had mentioned they would be receiving guests up until the moment that there was a bang on the front door at exactly twelve o’clock.

Everyone’s head turned toward it. Tulip came running out of the kitchen, despite it being expected they all still had to be cautious; Tonks was sitting on an armchair in the living room holding a wrapped up Teddy close in her arms; Harry held his hand over his pocket that contained Draco’s wand, Theodore and Tracey did the same. Silently Griphook slipped beneath the table, out of sight.

‘Who is there?’ asked Tulip.

‘It is I, Remus John Lupin!’ called out the familiar voice. Harry’s heart spread up. ‘I am accompanied by my daughter Canini Cesario Howling, and the mother of Nymphadora, Andromeda Irma Tonks. Dora, the Secret-Keeper of Shell Cottage, told us the address so that we could today and celebrate!’

Satisfied in the answer, Tulip wrenched the door open.

Remus, Canini, and Andromeda fell over the threshold. The stress of the war and the death of her husband must have taken its toll, as Andromeda finally had her first strands of grey hair, though it was nothing compared to Remus who now had more grey than light brown. Over the last eight months Canini must have felt she needed a change, as she had cut her incredibly long hair back down to just past shoulder length. They straightened up, looked around the room, making sure of who was there, then Remus and Canini sprinted across the room and nearly tackled Harry and Theodore in a hug.

‘You’re ok, you’re ok, you’re actually ok,’ Remus muttered over and over again in near disbelief.

Canini already had tears rolling down her scarred cheeks, ‘I missed you two so much!’ she managed.

‘I missed you guys too,’ said Theodore between sobs.

Harry opened his mouth to speak, to also relate his gratitude for being able to see them again, but it was in that moment that just how badly in his heart he had missed them washed over him that he too was reduced to uncontrollable sobs. The surrounding world disappeared, Harry had even forgotten that other people were present, because for the duration of them all crying the world was only made up of this small broken family that had finally been reunited. It was only when they had all gotten it out of their system that the world came back into focus.

‘It’s good to see you two alright,’ said Remus as they all separated. ‘You four I should say. And Harry, Theo, you could both go for a haircut and shave.’

‘Yeah, we’ll probably get on top of that soon. It’s just been…busy,’ expressed Theodore.

‘We’ll have plenty of time to talk about Theo’s incredibly messy hair later, right now I want to meet Teddy,’ said Canini in a cheerful manner Harry had so missed. She went over to Andromeda who was already holding the baby.

‘Yes, it’s time to celebrate!’ said Remus, pulling out from his robes a fancy looking bottle. ‘I’ve brought an eighty-three bottle of Italian Vermouth Bianco just for this occasion!’

The wind buffeted the little cottage and the fire leapt and crackled, and Tulip was soon opening another bottle of wine. The arrival of Teddy and the family reunion seemed to have taken them out of themselves, removed them for a while from their state of siege: Tidings of new life were exhilarating. Only the goblin seemed untouched by the suddenly festive atmosphere, and after a while he slunk back to the bedroom he now occupied alone. Harry thought he was the only one who had noticed this, until he saw Remus’ eyes following the goblin up the stairs.

As the girls plus Theodore now fawned over Tonks and the baby, Harry and Remus found themselves migrating alone to the kitchen. Some of the joy left and Harry now couldn’t help but think about the last time he had talked to his adoptive father in person.

‘About what happened in Grimmauld Place, I’m so—‘

‘Don’t apologize, Harry,’ said Remus as he cut him off. ‘I needed to hear every word. I was in turmoil, and instead of trying to deal with my problems I was running away from them, and in doing so running away from my responsibilities. Your words convinced me to take up the twins offer, and I was then able to make a difference while still being reasonably safe and could be there for Canini.’

‘So…you’re not mad?’

‘Mad? I am more proud of you and Theodore than I have ever been. I am honoured to have you both as my sons. And I know Teddy will eventually be honoured to have you as his godfather.’

Harry was at risk of tearing up again, but thankfully Remus changed the subject.

‘Now, tell me all that has happened, and don’t worry, I know you can’t tell me everything.’

And Harry got to spend the better part of the afternoon talking about all that had happened. He still wasn’t able to tell Remus about the Horcruxes, but he did tell him they had made progress on their mission. He also did not tell him about the Hallows, as he still felt ashamed about them. After discussing Allison’s departure and then return, Remus had a question.

‘And you still aren’t back together?’

‘I was overjoyed that she was back, but for a while I was still hurt that she had left and how she had done so, I just didn’t show it as much as Tracey.’

‘It sounds like she deeply regrets what she did. Let me ask you something, do you still love her?’

‘Yes,’ said Harry instantly, he didn’t need to think about that, not even a second.

‘Then I wouldn’t wait much longer to let her back into your heart. These are still very uncertain times. Love shouldn’t have to wait.’

Harry nodded, and then continued giving details on his adventures. When he got to the present he discussed that he had made a deal with Griphook, but not the details surrounding it. Remus’ face went dark.

‘I’m not sure if you know this, but shortly after I lost my job as an auror, I spent a month working as a guard at Gringotts. Even though I wasn’t there long, I got to know a lot about Goblins…’

‘What are you saying?’ Harry asked.

‘They aren’t human Harry, and they don’t think like one either,’ said Remus. ‘Deals made between wizards and Goblins have lead to some the bloodiest conflicts in both our histories. Both sides have wronged the other, it is true we are not innocent in this matter, but it has lead to goblins having a deep mistrust of us that persists to this day.’

‘But I respect gob—‘ Harry began, but Remus shook his head.

‘Harry, your heart is so big, it is a beautiful quality about you. But treating this goblin well isn’t actually going to change any decision he has already made about you. If you made a deal with him, and I suspect that would involve goblin-made items, then no matter what your agreement says he is going to view the objects as his.’

Harry had an ominous feeling now; he wondered whether Remus guessed more than he was letting on.

‘I just want you to be prepared,’ said Remus, as he stood up from the table. ‘Don’t ever think you know for sure what a goblin is thinking.’

With that foreboding conversation out of the way they all returned to celebrating the new life. Everyone told jokes and laughed, cooed over the new baby, and just got to enjoy each other’s company for the first time in months.

When it was time for the three of them to go, there were even more hugs, and a few tears shed. Just before leaving Remus pulled Harry, Theodore, Allison, and Tracey aside.

‘Dora has told me that she suspects you four won’t be staying here long term. While I want you to be safe, I know that your mission is important. So I’m going to wish you all the luck that I can, and just know that if you ever need me all you need to do is find a way to let me know and I’ll be there.’

Harry and Theodore hugged him and Canini one last time, and then the two of them plus Andromeda were off.

Slowly the days stretched onwards, and the gang resumed their planning with Griphook. It was like planning to break into the Ministry all over again. They settled to work in the smallest bedroom, which was kept, according to Griphook’s preference, in semidarkness.

‘I have visited the Lestranges’ vault only once,’ Griphook told them, ‘on the occasion I was told to place inside it the false sword. It is one of the most ancient chambers. The oldest Wizarding families store their treasures at the deepest level, where the vaults are largest and best protected…’

They remained shut in the cupboard-like room for hours at a time. There was problem after problem to overcome, not least of which was that their store of Polyjuice Potion was greatly depleted.

‘If we had a full month to spare I still likely wouldn’t be able to make more,’ Theodore signed. ‘Tulip has told me the shortage on Fluxweed is even worse now than it was eight months ago. As it stands we only have enough for one person.’

‘That’ll be enough, especially if you can make a temporary Aging Potion,’ said Harry, who was examining Griphook’s hand-drawn map of the deepest passageways.

The other inhabitants of the cottage could hardly fail to notice that something was going on now that Harry, Tracey, Theodore, and mostly Allison only emerged for mealtimes. Nobody asked questions, although Harry often felt Tonks’ eyes on the four of them at the table, thoughtful, concerned.

The longer they spent together, the more Harry realized that he did not much like the goblin. Griphook was unexpectedly bloodthirsty, laughed at the idea of pain in lesser creatures and seemed to relish the possibility that they might have to hurt other wizards to reach the Lestranges’ vault. Harry could tell that his distaste was shared by the other three, but they did not discuss it. Tonks once offered to move Tracey and Allison into Griphooks room, but they refused. Harry and the other three knew that Griphook would think poorly of having to sleep on the sofa; keeping Griphook happy was essential to their plans. They needed him.

The goblin ate only grudgingly with the rest of them. Even after his legs had mended, he continued to request trays of food in his room, like the still-frail Ollivander, until Dean (following a small breakdown from the exhausted Tulip) went upstairs on Tulip’s request to tell him that the arrangement could not continue. Thereafter Griphook joined them at the overcrowded table, although he refused to eat the same food, insisting, instead, on lumps of raw meat, roots, and various fungi.

Harry felt responsible: It was, after all, he who had insisted that the goblin remain at Tonks and Tulip’s cottage so that he could question him, but they insisted that they understood.

After his family’s departure, the only joyful day came a few days later. Harry had needed a break away from Griphook, and decided to have a short walk through the garden. When he reached the lake-side garden with blooming spring flowers, however, he heard some noise coming from behind the shed. He made his way over and found Allison sitting on a chair sanding a stick of light reddish-brown colour.

‘How is it coming?’ he asked, and she looked up and smiled.

‘I think I just finished actually. The dead cedar tree I found was still dry and strong so it was perfect to work with, I just sanded the small branch to shape I want, and Harry look,’ she stood up and held out a small jar, and inside was what looked like the wing of a dragon fly, but it was a deep purple and glittered in an unnatural way.

‘What is it?’ Harry asked genuinely.

‘Well, there aren’t really any Unicorns, Dragons, or Phoenixes in this forest, so I had to find another source of magic. The garden has had some fairies hanging around in it, and I managed to find an intact wing that I liked. While Mr Ollivander prefers to work with only the three superior cores, he said he’ll insert whatever magical core I can find. Once he does, all that will be left is for me to polish it.’

‘I’m so proud of you,’ Harry blurted out. Allison’s cheeks went pink.

‘Oh, um, thank you Harry.’

He was going to backtrack, mumble something and walk away, but he remembered what Remus had told him and decided to take a chance.

‘I really mean it, you have worked so hard on it this past week. I don’t think I could ever do what you have done,’ said Harry, and her smile grew even brighter. ‘I guess what I’m trying to say is, you’re so passionate, determined, and just incredible. I can’t imagine my life without you by my side. I know the last six months haven’t been easy, but would you be willing to give what we have another shot?’

Harry wasn’t sure what she would say, but in the end Allison didn’t say anything. Instead she closed the distance between herself and Harry, took his hands in hers, and kissed him. It was beautiful and sweet. Harry had nearly forgotten what kissing her was like. As they kissed, Harry took in the moment, so that he would always remember that the resumption of their relationship was associated with the essence of aloe vera and cedar dust.

‘I—‘ he began.

‘I love you too, Harry.’

By late afternoon, with the help of Ollivander, Allison had completed her wand, and she insisted Tracey disarm her to try and guarantee Bellatrix’ wand would respond to her. Recovered as much as he could, and his work at the cottage finished, Mr Ollivander began packing and panning his move to Andromeda’s home.

That evening, Luna and Dean entered with their arms full of firewood.

‘…and tiny little ears,’ Luna was saying, ‘a bit like hippo’s, Daddy says, only purple and hairy. And if you want to call them, you have to hum; they prefer a waltz, nothing too fast…’

Looking uncomfortable, Dean shrugged at Harry as he passed, following Luna into the combined dining and sitting room where Tracey, Allison, and Theodore were laying the dinner table, and Harry decided to join them.

‘...and if you ever come to our house I’ll be able to show you the horn, Daddy wrote to me about it but I haven’t seen it yet, because the Death Eaters took me from the Hogwarts Express and I never got home for Christmas,’ Luna was saying, as she and Dean relit the fire.

‘Luna, I’m really sorry, but I told you your home was destroyed,’ Allison called over to her.

‘By that very horn,’ continued Tracey. ‘It was from an Erumpent, not a Crumple-Horned Snorkack, it exploded—‘

‘Our home can be fixed, and it was definitely a Snorkack horn,’ said Luna serenely, ‘Daddy told me. It will probably have re–formed by now, they mend themselves, you know.’

Tracey shook her head and continued laying down forks as Tulip appeared, leading Mr Ollivander down the stairs. The wandmaker still looked exceptionally frail, and he clung to Tulip’s arm as the latter supported him, carrying a large suitcase.

‘I’m going to miss you, Mr Ollivander,’ said Luna, approaching the old man.

‘And I you, my dear,’ said Ollivander, patting her on the shoulder. ‘You were an inexpressible comfort to me in that terrible place.’

‘You’ll be missed,’ said Tonks, as she entered the kitchen with Teddy in her arms.

‘Thank you, I hope to see you all again, and I wish you the best of luck on each of your journeys.’

A strong wind gusted against the cottage windows as Tulip and Ollivander set off into the night. The rest of them squeezed in around the table; elbow to elbow and with barely enough room to move, they started to eat. The fire crackled and popped in the grate beside them. Tonks, Harry noticed, was merely playing with her food or feeding Teddy milk; she glanced at the window every few minutes; however, Tulip returned before supper was even finished, her long red hair tangled by the wind.

‘Everything went well,’ she told Tonks. ‘Ollivander is all settled in, your mum says hello. Remus and Canini send you all their love. They were all happy to hear everyone is still doing well.’

It was then, with them all sitting around the table and with love sent from the rest of his family, that Harry realized something. He wasn’t just hunting Horcruxes and trying to defeat Voldemort so that the wizarding world could be free, he was doing it so that he could have more moments like this with the ones he loved.

First half of book:

https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003829962

Previous Chapters:

https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003833123

https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003838588

https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003840013

https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003841380

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@SaphireStark @Missy Clara Oswald @CatsAndRoblox @Pervaza972 @Interested.me @Mega.mind.harry.potter

Chapter Twenty-Three: The Wandmaker

It was like sinking into an old nightmare; for an instant Harry knelt again beside Dumbledore’s body at the foot of the tallest tower at Hogwarts, but in reality he was staring at a tiny body curled upon the grass, pierced by Bellatrix’s silver knife. Harry’s voice was still saying, 'Dobby...Dobby…’ even though he knew that the elf had gone where he could not call him back.

After a minute or so he realized that they had, after all, come to the right place, for here were Tulip and a very pregnant Tonks, Luna, Dean, and Theodore, gathering around him as he knelt over the elf.

‘Tracey,’ he said suddenly. ‘Where is she?’

‘Allison has brought her into the house,’ said Tonks. ‘Don’t worry about her, Harry, she’ll be ok.’

Harry looked back down at Dobby. He stretched out a hand and pulled the sharp blade from the elf’s body, then dragged off his own jacket and covered Dobby in it like a blanket.

A light wind was rushing between the trees and over the lake that was somewhere nearby; Harry listened to it while the others talked, discussing matters in which he could take no interest, making decisions, Dean carried the injured Griphook into the house, Tulip hurrying with them; now Tonks and Theodore were talking towards Harry, but he couldn’t hear them. He gazed down at the tiny body, and his scar prickled and burned, and in one part of his mind, viewed as if from the wrong end of a long telescope, he saw Voldemort punishing those they had left behind at the Malfoy Manor. His rage was dreadful and yet Harry’s grief for Dobby seemed to diminish it, so that it became a distant storm that reached Harry from across a vast, silent ocean.

‘I want to do it properly,’ were the first words of which Harry was fully conscious of speaking. ‘Not by magic. Have you got a spade?’ And shortly afterward he had set to work, alone, digging the grave in the place that Tonks had shown him at the centre of the garden, in a small clearing. He dug with a kind of fury, relishing the manual work, glorying in the non-magic of it, for every drop of his sweat and every blister felt like a gift to the elf who had saved their lives.

His scar burned, but he was master of the pain, he felt it, yet was apart from it. He had learned control at last, learned to shut his mind to Voldemort, the very thing Dumbledore had wanted him to learn from Snape. Just as Voldemort had not been able to possess Harry while Harry was consumed with grief for Sirius, so his thoughts could not penetrate Harry now while he mourned Dobby. Grief, it seemed, drove Voldemort out…though Dumbledore, of course, would have said that it was love.

On Harry dug, deeper and deeper into the hard, cold earth, subsuming his grief in sweat, denying the pain in his scar. In the darkness, with nothing but the sound of his own breath and the small waves of the lake to keep him company, the things that had happened at the Malfoys’ returned to him, the things he had heard came back to him, and understanding blossomed in the darkness…

The steady rhythm of his arms beat time with his thoughts. Hallows…Horcruxes…Hallows…Horcruxes…yet no longer burned with that weird, obsessive longing. Loss and fear had snuffed it out. He felt as though he had been slapped awake again.

Deeper and deeper Harry sank into the grave, and he knew where Voldemort had been tonight, and whom he had killed in the topmost cell of Nurmengard, and why…And he thought of Wormtail, dead because of one small unconscious impulse of mercy…Dumbledore had foreseen that…How much more had he known?

Harry lost track of time. He knew only that the darkness had lightened a few degrees when he was rejoined by Theodore and Allison.

‘How’s Tracey?’

‘She’s resting,’ said Allison. ‘Theo gave her some Calming Draught, and Tulip is watching over her.’

Harry had his retort ready for when they asked him why he had not simply created a perfect grave with his wand, but he did not need it. They jumped down into the hole he had made with spades of their own and together they worked in silence until the hole seemed deep enough.

Harry wrapped the elf more snugly in his jacket. Theodore sat on the edge of the grave and stripped off his shoes and socks, which he placed on the elf’s bare feet. Allison presented hand knitted mittens and hat that Harry knew were made by her mother, which Harry placed carefully upon Dolby’s hands and head, muffling his batlike ears.

‘We should close his eyes.’

Harry had not heard the others coming through the darkness. Tonks was wearing long maternity robes, Tulip a travelling cloak, from the pocket of which protruded a bottle of what Harry recognized to be Skele-Gro. Tracey was wrapped in a borrowed dressing gown, pale and unsteady on her feet; Theodore put an arm around her when she reached him. Dean had also come with a blanket around his shoulders. Luna, who was huddled in one of Tulip’s coats, crouched down and placed her fingers tenderly upon each of the elf’s eyelids, sliding them over his glassy stare.

‘There,’ she said softly. ‘Now he could be sleeping.’

Harry placed the elf into the grave, arranged his tiny limbs so that he might have been resting, then climbed out and gazed for the last time upon the little body. He forced himself not to break down as he remembered Dumbledore’s funeral, and the rows and rows of golden chairs, and the Minister of Magic in the front row, the recitation of Dumbledore’s achievements, the stateliness of the white marble tomb. He felt that Dobby deserved just as grand a funeral, and yet here the elf lay in the middle of a dormant garden in a roughly dug hole. He only somewhat registered that Allison was now by his side with her arms around him.

‘I think we ought to say something,’ piped up Luna. ‘I’ll go first, shall I?’

And as everybody looked at her, she addressed the dead elf at the bottom of the grave.

‘Thank you so much Dobby for rescuing me from that cellar. It’s so unfair that you had to die when you were so good and brave. I’ll always remember what you did for us. I hope you’re happy now.’

She turned and looked expectingly at Theodore, who cleared his throat and said in a thick voice, ‘Yes…thank you Dobby.’

‘Thanks,’ muttered Dean.

Harry swallowed. ‘Good bye Dobby, you were always there for me when in you most.’

It was all he could manage, but Luna had said it all for him. Tonks raised her wand, and the pile of earth beside the grave rose up into the air and fell neatly upon it, a small, reddish mound.

‘D’ya mind if I stay here a moment?’ he asked the others.

They murmured words he did not catch; Allison gave him a little squeeze and then let go, Harry felt gentle pats upon his back, and then they all traipsed back toward the cottage, leaving Harry alone beside the elf.

He looked around: There were a number of large white stones, smoothed by the lake, marking the edge of the flower beds. He picked up one of the largest and laid it, pillowlike, over the place where Dobby’s head now rested. He then felt in his pocket for a wand. There were two in there. He had forgotten, lost track; he could not now remember whose wands these were; he seemed to remember wrenching them out of someone’s hand. He selected the shorter of the two, which felt friendlier in his hand, and pointed it at the rock.

Slowly, under his murmured instruction, deep cuts appeared upon the rock’s surface. He knew that Theodore or Tracey could have done it more neatly, and probably more quickly, but he wanted to mark the spot as he had wanted to dig the grave. When Harry stood up again, the stone read:

“HERE LIES DOBBY, A FREE ELF.”

He looked at his handiwork for a few more seconds, then walked away, his scar still prickling a little, and his mind full of those things that had come to him in the grave, ideas that had taken shape in the darkness, ideas both fascinating and terrible.

They were all sitting in the living room when he entered the little hall, their attention focused upon Tonks, who was talking. The room was a light coloured blue, pretty, with a small fire of fresh firewood burning brightly in the hearth. Harry did not want to drop mud upon the carpet, so he stood in the doorway, listening.

‘…lucky that Canini was expelled over the summer. If she was at Hogwarts right now they would have taken her hostage before we could save her. Everyone should now be safe,’ she looked around and saw Harry standing there, her face softened. ‘Up until now You-Know-Who and his forces have mostly been leaving your family alone in hopes to catch you returning to them or us making contact with you, but after tonight we’re pretty sure he has become more desperate and more than willing to hurt us to get to you. I got Remus and Canini to move in with my mum and—don’t apologize,’ she added at the sight of Harry’s expression. ‘No matter what it was a matter of time before he targeted our family to get to you. And it’s all ok, everyone is safe.’

‘How are they protected?’ asked Harry.

‘Remus has cast a Fidelius Charm. Mum’s the Secret-Keeper. And back when Allison moved in with us I did the same here; I’m Secret-Keeper for this cottage. None of us should really leave the house, but mum, Remus, and myself haven’t really left our respective homes much these past few months anyway. Once Mr Ollivander and Griphook are recovered, we’ll have them move in with mum as well. There isn’t enough beds here, but she has two extra bedrooms not currently being used plus a pull-out couch. Flower has given Griphook some Skele-Gro for his legs so he’ll probably be ready to move in—‘

‘No,’ Harry said and Tonks looked startled. ‘I need both of them here. I need to talk to them. It’s important.’

He heard the authority of his own voice, the conviction, the voice of purpose that had come to him as he dug Dobby’s grave. All of their faces were turned toward him looking puzzled.

‘I’m going to wash,’ Harry told Tonks looking down at his hands still covered with mud and Dobby’s blood. ‘Then I’ll need to see them, straight away.’

He walked into the little kitchen, to the basin beneath a window overlooking the sea. Dawn was breaking over the horizon, shell pink and faintly gold, as he washed, again following the train of thought that had come to him in the dark garden…

Dobby would never be able to tell them who had sent him to the cellar, but Harry knew what he had seen. A piercing blue eye had looked out of the mirror fragment, and then help had come. Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it. Harry dried his hands, impervious to the beauty of the scene outside the window and to the murmuring of the others in the sitting room. He looked out over the ocean and felt closer, this dawn, than ever before, closer to the heart of it all.

And still his scar prickled, and he knew that Voldemort was getting there too. Harry understood and yet did not understand. His instinct was telling him one thing, his brain quite another. The Dumbledore in Harry’s head smiled, surveying Harry over the tips of his fingers, pressed together as if in prayer.

You gave Allison the Deluminator…You understood her…You gave her a way back...And you understood Wormtail too…You knew there was a bit of regret there, somewhere...And if you knew them…What did you know about me, Dumbledore?

Am I meant to know but not to seek? Did you know how hard I’d feel that? Is that why you made it this difficult? So I’d have time to work that out?

Harry stood quite still, eyes glazed, watching the place where a bright gold ray of dazzling sun was rising over the horizon. Then he looked down at his clean hands and was momentarily surprised to see the cloth he was holding in them. He set it down and returned to the hall, and as he did so, he felt his scar pulse angrily, and then flashed across his mind, swift as the reflection of a dragonfly over water, the outline of a building he knew extremely well.

Tonks and Tulip were standing at the foot of the stairs.

‘I need to speak to Griphook and Ollivander,’ Harry said.

‘I don’t know, Harry,’ said Tulip. ‘You should wait. The goblin is in a lot of pain, and Mr Ollivander is incredibly weak—‘

‘I’m sorry,’ he said without heat, ‘but it can’t wait. I need to talk to them now. Privately—and separately. It’s urgent.’

‘Harry, I trust you and will do anything to help you, but could I please get an explanation on what has happened tonight and to you?’ asked Tonks, a deeply worried look on her face. You arrive randomly after eight months with your friends, a dead house-elf, your friend who fought with you in the Department of Mysteries, the boy and goblin who were with my father when he died, Tracey appears to have been tortured, and Allison and Theodore refuse to speak about anything without you—‘

‘We can’t tell you what we’re doing,’ said Harry flatly. ‘You’re in the Order, Tonks, you know Dumbledore left us a mission. We’re not supposed to talk about it to anyone else. I’ll tell you what I can when this is all done, but for this moment I have to focus on the mission.’

Tulip made an uneasy noise, but Tonks did not look at her; she was staring at Harry. Her round and exhausted face was hard to read. Finally, Tonks said, ‘Very well. Which one do you need to talk to first?’

Harry hesitated. He knew what hung on his decision. There was hardly any time left; now was the moment to decide: Horcruxes or Hallows?

‘Griphook,’ Harry said. ‘I’ll speak to Griphook first.’

His heart was racing as if he had been sprinting and had just cleared an enormous obstacle.

‘First door up here on the left,’ said Tonks, waddling as she lead the way.

Harry had walked up several steps before stopping and looking back.

‘I need you three as well!’ he called to Tracey, Allison, and Theodore, who had been skulking, half concealed, in the doorway of the sitting room.

They moved into the light, looking oddly relieved.

‘How are you?’ Harry asked Tracey. ‘You were amazing—coming up with that story when she was hurting you like that—‘ Tracey gave a weak smile as Allison gave her a one-armed squeeze.

‘What is your plan, Harry?’ Allison asked.

‘You’ll see. Come on.’

The four of them followed Tonks up the steep stairs onto a small landing. Four doors led off it.

‘Use this room,’ said Tonks, opening the door to her and Tulip’s room, it too had a view of the lake, now flecked with gold in the sunrise, in the corner a crib was set up. Harry moved to the window, turned his back on the spectacular view, and waited, his arms folded, his scar prickling. Tracey took the chair beside the dressing table; Theodore and Tracey stood on either side.

Tonks reappeared, carrying the little goblin, whom she set down carefully upon the bed. Griphook grunted thanks, and Tonks left, closing the door upon them all.

‘I’m sorry to take you out of bed,’ said Harry. ‘How are your legs?’

‘Painful,’ replied the goblin. ‘But mending.’

He was still holding Slytherin’s Locket, when he noticed Harry staring at it he tossed it to Tracey who just barely caught it.

‘I believe this is yours.’

‘Er, thanks,’ she muttered, and once again her small emerald locket was joined by the ancient broken one.

It was now, in proper lighting, that Harry finally got to have a good look at the goblin. He wore a strange look: half truculent, half intrigued. Harry noted the goblin’s sallow skin, his long thin fingers, his black eyes. Tulip had removed his shoes: His long feet were dirty. He was larger than a house-elf, but not by much. His domed head was much bigger than a human’s.

‘You probably don’t remember—‘ Harry began.

‘—that I was the goblin who showed you to your vault, the first time you ever visited Gringotts?’ said Griphook. ‘I remember, Harry Potter. Even amongst goblins, you are very famous.’

Harry and the goblin looked at each other, sizing each other up. Harry’s scar was still prickling. He wanted to get through this interview with Griphook quickly, and at the same time was afraid of making a false move. While he tried to decide on the best way to approach his request, the goblin broke the silence.

‘You buried the elf,’ he said, sounding unexpectedly rancorous. ‘I watched you from the window of the bedroom next door.’

‘Yes,’ said Harry.

Griphook looked at him out of the corners of his slanting black eyes.

‘You are an unusual wizard, Harry Potter.’

‘In what way?’ asked Harry, rubbing his scar absently.

‘You dug the grave.’

‘So?’

Griphook did not answer. Harry rather thought he was being sneered at for acting like a Muggle, but it did not matter to him whether Griphook approved of Dobby’s grave or not. He gathered himself for the attack.

‘Griphook, I need to ask—‘

‘You also rescued a goblin.’

‘What?’

‘You brought me here. Saved me.’

‘Well, I take it you’re not sorry?’ said Harry a little impatiently.

‘No, Harry Potter,’ said Griphook, and with one finger he twisted the thin black beard upon his chin, ‘but you are a very odd wizard.’

‘Right,’ said Harry. ‘Well, I need some help, Griphook, and you can give it to me.’

The goblin made no sign of encouragement, but continued to frown at Harry as though he had never seen anything like him.

‘I need to break into a Gringotts vault.’

Harry had not meant to say it so badly: the words were forced from him as pain shot through his lightning scar and he saw, again, the outline of Hogwarts. He closed his mind firmly. He needed to deal with Griphook first. His friends were staring at Harry as though he had gone mad.

‘Harry—‘ said Allison, but she was cut off by Griphook.

‘Break into a Gringotts vault?’ repeated the goblin, wincing a little as he shifted his position upon the bed. ‘It is impossible.’

‘Actually it isn’t,’ Theodore contradicted him. ‘It has been done once before.’

‘Yeah,’ said Harry. ‘The same day I first met you, Griphook. My birthday, seven years ago.’

‘The vault in question was empty at the time,’ snapped the goblin, and Harry understood that even though Griphook had let Gringotts, he was offended at the idea of its defenses being breached. ‘Its protection was minimal.’

‘Well, the vault we need to get into isn’t empty, and I’m guessing its protection will be pretty powerful,’ said Harry. ‘It belongs to the Lestranges.’

He saw his three friends look at each other, astonished, but there would be time enough to explain after Griphook had given his answer.

‘You have no chance,’ said Griphook flatly. ‘No chance at all. “If you seek beneath our floors, a treasure that was never yours—“‘

‘“Thief, you have been warned, beware”—yeah, I know, I remember,’ said Harry. ‘But I’m not trying to get myself any treasure, I’m not trying to take anything for personal gain. Can you believe that?’

The goblin looked slantwise at Harry, and the lightning scar on Harry’s forehead prickled, but he ignored it, refusing to acknowledge its pain or its invitation.

‘If there was a wizard of whom I would believe that they did not seek personal gain,’ said Griphook finally, ‘it would be you, Harry Potter. Goblins and elves are not used to the protection or the respect that you have shown this night. Not from wand-carriers.’

‘Wand-carriers,’ repeated Harry: The phrase fell oddly upon his ears as his scar prickled, as Voldemort turned his thoughts northward, and as Harry burned to question Ollivander next door.

‘The right to carry a wand,’ said the goblin quietly, ‘has long been contested between wizards and goblins.’

‘But can’t Goblins perform magic without a wand?’ asked Allison.

‘That is immaterial! Wizards refuse to share the secrets of wandlore with other magical beings, they deny us the possibility of extending our powers!’

‘That is true, but goblins don’t share any of their magical secrets either,’ said Theodore. ‘Such as how you imbue your metal with magic that allows it to only become stronger. Magic wizard inventors have never been able to—‘

‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Harry, noting Griphook’s rising colour. ‘This isn’t about wizards versus goblins or any other sort of magical creature—‘

Griphook gave a nasty laugh.

‘But it is, it is precisely that! As the Dark Lord becomes ever more powerful, your race is set still more firmly above mine! Gringotts falls under Wizarding rule, house-elves are slaughtered, and who amongst the wand-carriers protests?’

‘I do,’ said Tracey. With great effort she sat up as straight as she could. ‘My friends and I have always protested against mistreatment of others, human or not. And to those currently in charge I don’t stand much higher than you Griphook, a proud daughter of a muggle! They say my blood is filth!’

‘But that’s not true—‘ said Allison.

‘But it is,’ said Tracey. ‘I am equally proud of my muggle brother and dad as I am my magical mum. Bellatrix chose me to torture, back in the manor!’ As she spoke, she pulled up the sleeve of the dressing gown to reveal the cuts Bellatrix had made, spelling crude scarlet letters:

“FILTH”

‘Tracey…’ Theodore tried to begin in shock, but Tracey continued.

‘The elf that died, his name was Dobby, and it was Harry who freed him five years ago,’ she stated. ‘And my boyfriend and I have been members of a free house-elf organization at Hogwarts for a couple years now. The four of us want You-Know-Who and his bigotry to end as much as you do, Griphook.’

The goblin gazed at Tracey with the same curiosity he had shown Harry.

‘What do you seek within the Lestranges’ vault?’ he asked abruptly. ‘I doubt four Slytherins seek the Sword of Gryffindor. Even if that were your intentions, I should warn you the sword inside is a fake.’

‘It’s true, we don’t seek the sword, but the fake sword isn’t the only thing in that vault, is it?’ asked Harry. ‘Perhaps you’ve seen other things in there?’

His heart was pounding harder than ever. He redoubled his efforts to ignore the pulsing of his scar.

The goblin twisted his beard around his finger again.

‘It is against our code to speak of the secrets of Gringotts. We are the guardians of fabulous treasures. We have a duty to the objects placed in our care, which were, so often, wrought by our fingers.’

The goblin’s black eyes roved from Harry to Tracey, to Allison, to Theodore and then back again.

‘So young,’ he said finally, ‘to be fighting so many.’

‘Will you help us?’ said Harry. ‘We haven’t got a hope of breaking in without a goblin’s help. You’re our one chance.’

‘I shall…think about it. If I do agree however, I will require compensation, and I won’t accept wizarding currency,’ said Griphook maddeningly.

‘But—‘ Allison started angrily; Tracey nudged her in the ribs.

‘Thank you,’ said Harry.

The goblin bowed his great domed head in acknowledgement, then flexed his short legs.

‘I think,’ he said, settling himself ostentatiously upon Tonks and Tulip’s bed, ‘that the Skele-Gro has finished its work. I may be able to sleep at last. Forgive me…’

‘Yeah, of course,’ said Harry, but as they were leaving the room Harry couldn’t help but feel the goblin’s eyes lingering on him as he closed the door.

‘He already has an answer,’ whispered Allison. ‘He just wants us to wait to become more desperate. And what does he mean by "compensation other than wizarding currancy"?'

'I think we'll have to find that out,' said Tracey quietly.

‘Harry,’ whispered Theodore, pulling them all away from the door, into the middle of the still-dark landing, ‘do you want to get into the Lestrange vault for the reason I think you do? Do you believe she has a Horcrux?’

‘Yes,’ said Harry. ‘Bellatrix recognized the locket as having belonged to You-Know-Who, that he’d kill everyone in Malfoy Manor if it was discovered to be destroyed. She specifically said that it was one of the objects he had hid, implying she knew of at least one other. When she was the most desperate she let slip that she thought it came from a vault, she might have thought that because that was what she herself did. Before seven years ago it was unthinkable that anything could be stolen from Gringotts, so if she was asked to hide something that was probably the best place she could think of.’

‘I thought Dumbledore said we should look for places You-Know-Who has been, places that are important to him?’ asked Tracey. ‘Why would her vault be important?’

‘I don’t know whether he was ever inside Gringotts,’ said Harry. ‘He never had gold there when he was younger, because nobody left him anything. He would have seen the bank from the outside, though, the first time he ever went to Diagon Alley.’

Harry’s scar throbbed, but he ignored it; he wanted his friends to understand about Gringotts before they spoke to Ollivander.

‘I think he would have envied anyone who had a key to a Gringotts vault. I think he’d have seen it as a real symbol of belonging to the Wizarding world. And don’t forget, he trusted Bellatrix and her husband. They were his most devoted servants before he fell, and they went looking for him after he vanished. He said it the night he came back, I heard him.’

Harry rubbed his scar.

‘I don’t think he’d have told Bellatrix it was a Horcrux, though. He never told Lucius Malfoy the truth about the diary. He probably told her it was a treasured possession and asked her to place it in her vault. The safest place in the world for anything you want to hide…except for Hogwarts.’

When Harry had finished speaking, Allison shook her head.

‘You sound as though you know him…’

‘Bits of him,’ said Harry. ‘Bits…I just wish I’d understood Dumbledore as much. But we’ll see. Come on—Ollivander now.’

Tracey, Allison, and Theodore looked bewildered but very impressed as they followed him across the little landing and knocked upon the door opposite of Tonks and Tulip’s. A weak ‘Come in!’ answered them.

The wandmaker was lying on the twin bed farthest from the window. He had been held in the cellar for more than a year, and tortured, Harry knew, on at least one occasion. He was emaciated, the bones of his face sticking out sharply against the yellowish skin. His great silver eyes seemed vast in their sunken sockets. The hands that lay upon the blanket could have belonged to a skeleton. Harry sat down on the empty bed, beside his three friends. The rising sun was not visible here. The room faced the lake-side garden and the freshly dug grave.

‘Mr Ollivander, I’m sorry to disturb you,’ Harry said.

‘My dear boy,’ Ollivander’s voice was feeble, you rescued us, I thought we would die in that place, I can never thank you…never thank you…enough.’

‘We were glad to do it.’

Harry’s scar throbbed. He knew, he was certain, that there was hardly any time left in which to beat Voldemort to his goal, or else to attempt to thwart him. He felt a flutter of panic…yet he had made his decision when he chose to speak to Griphook first. Feigning a calm he did not feel, he groped in the pouch around his neck and took out the two halves of his broken wand.

‘Mr Ollivander, I need some help.’

‘Anything. Anything,’ said the wandmaker weakly.

‘Can you mend this? Is it possible?’

Ollivander held out a trembling hand, and Harry placed the two barely connected halves in his palm.

‘Holly and phoenix feather,’ said Ollivander in a tremulous voice. ‘Eleven inches. Nice and supple.’

‘Yes,’ said Harry. ‘Can you—?’

‘No,’ whispered Ollivander. ‘I am sorry, very sorry, but a wand that has suffered this degree of damage cannot be repaired by any means that I know of.’

Harry had been braced to hear it, but it was a blow nevertheless. He took the wand halves back and replaced them in the pouch around his neck. Ollivander stared at the place where the shattered wand had vanished, and did not look away until Harry had taken from his pocket the two wands he had brought from the Malfoys’.

‘Can you identify these?’ Harry asked.

The wandmaker took the first of the wands and held it close to his faded eyes, rolling it between his knobble-knuckled fingers, flexing it slightly.

‘Walnut and dragon heartstring,’ he said. ‘Twelve-and-three-quarter inches. Unyielding. This wand belonged to Bellatrix Lestrange.’

‘And this one?’

Ollivander performed the same examination.

‘Hawthorn and unicorn hair. Ten inches precisely. Reasonably springy. This was the wand of Draco Malfoy.’

‘Was?’ repeated Harry. ‘Isn’t it still his?’

‘Perhaps not. If you took it from him—‘

‘—I did—‘

‘—then it may be yours. Of course, the manner of taking matters. Much also depends upon the wand itself. In general, however, where a wand has been won, its allegiance will change.’

There was a silence in the room, except for the distant rushing of the sea.

‘You talk about wands like they’ve got feelings,’ said Harry, ‘like they can think for themselves.’

‘The wand chooses the wizard,’ said Ollivander. ‘That much has always been clear to those of us who have studied wandlore.’

‘A person can still use a wand that hasn’t chosen them, though?’ asked Harry.

‘Oh yes, if you are any wizard at all you will be able to channel your magic through almost any instrument. The best results, however, must always come where there is the strongest affinity between wizard and wand. These connections are complex. An initial attraction, and then a mutual quest for experience, the wand learning from the wizard, the wizard from the wand.’

The sea gushed forward and backward; it was a mournful sound.

‘I took this wand from Draco Malfoy by force,’ said Harry. ‘Can I use it safely?’

‘I think so. Subtle laws govern wand ownership, but the conquered wand will usually bend its will to its new master. I believe that is the case with this one.’

‘Would that mean I should use this one?’ asked Theodore, pulling Wormtail’s wand out of his pocket and handing it to Ollivander.

‘Chestnut and dragon heartstring. Nine-and-a-quarter inches. Brittle. I was forced to make this shortly after my kidnapping, for Peter Pettigrew. Yes, if you won it, it is more likely to do your bidding, and do it well, than another wand.’

‘And this holds true for all wands, does it?’ asked Harry.

‘For the most part. Some wand woods are more loyal to their original owners, Ms Lestrange’s would prefer its old master, but its spells should at the very least not rebound,’ replied Ollivander, his protuberant eyes upon Harry’s face. ‘You ask deep questions, Mr Potter. Wandlore is a complex and mysterious branch of magic.’

‘So to clarify, it isn’t necessary to kill the previous owner to take the possession of a wand?’ asked Harry.

Ollivander swallowed.

‘Necessary? No, I should not say that it is necessary to kill.’

‘There are legends, though,’ said Harry, and as his heart rate quickened, the pain in his scar became more intense; he was sure that Voldemort has decided to put his idea into action. ‘Legends about a wand—or wands—that have been passed from hand to hand by murder.’

Ollivander turned pale. Against the snowy pillow he was light gray, and his eyes were enormous, bloodshot, and bulging with what looked like fear.

‘Only one wand, I think,’ he whispered.

‘And You-Know-Who is interested in it, isn’t he?’ asked Harry.

‘I—how?’ croaked Ollivander, and he looked appealingly at Tracey, Allison, and Theodore for help. ‘How do you know this?’

‘He wanted you to tell him how to overcome the connection between our wands,’ said Harry.

Ollivander looked terrified.

‘He tortured me, you must understand that! The Cruciatus Curse, I–I had no choice but to tell him what I knew, what I guessed!’

‘I understand, I am not mad at you for the information you gave him,’ said Harry. ‘You told him about the twin cores? You said he just had to borrow another wizard’s wand?’

Ollivander looked horrified, transfixed, by the amount that Harry knew. He nodded slowly.

‘But it didn’t work,’ Harry went on. ‘Mine still beat the borrowed wand. Do you know why that is?’

Ollivander shook his head slowly as he had just nodded.

‘I had…never heard of such a thing. Your wand performed something unique that night. The connection of the twin cores is incredibly rare, yet why your wand would have snapped the borrowed wand, I do not know…’

‘We were talking about the other wand, the wand that changes hands by murder. When You-Know-Who realized my wand had done something strange, he came back and asked about that other wand, didn’t he?’

‘How do you know this?’

Harry did not answer.

‘Yes, he asked,’ whispered Ollivander. ‘He wanted to know everything I could tell him about the wand variously known as the Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny, or the Elder Wand.’

Harry glanced sideways at Theodore. He looked flabbergasted.

‘The Dark Lord,’ said Ollivander in hushed and frightened tones, ‘had always been happy with the wand I made him—yew and phoenix feather, thirteen-and-a-half inches—until he discovered the connection of the twin cores. Now he seeks another, more powerful wand, as the only way to conquer yours.’

‘But he’ll know soon, if he doesn’t already, that mine’s broken beyond repair,’ said Harry quietly.

‘How—?’ began Allison.

‘Priori Incantatem,’ said Harry. ‘We left your lot’s three wands including Tracey and the sycamore wand at the Malfoys’, Allison. If they examine them properly, make them re-create the spells they’ve cast lately, they’d see that Tracey’s broke mine, they’ll see that she tried and failed to mend it, and they’ll realize that I’ve been using the sycamore one ever since.’

It wasn’t Harry’s intention, but his last couple statements seemed to have made Tracey quite uncomfortable as all the colour drained from her face. Allison gave Harry a hesitant look, and she said, ‘That’ll be a problem for later, tonight we—‘

But Mr Ollivander intervened.

‘The Dark Lord no longer seeks the Elder Wand only for your destruction, Mr Potter. He is determined to possess it because he believes it will make him truly invulnerable.’

‘And will it?’

‘The owner of the Elder Wand must always fear attack,’ said Ollivander, ‘but the idea of the Dark Lord in possession of the Deathstick is, I must admit…formidable.’

Harry was suddenly reminded of how unsure, when they first met, of how much he like Ollivander. A memory of him yelling at Sirius for customizing his wand stuck at the surface of his mind for a second. Even now, having been tortured and imprisoned by Voldemort, the idea of the Dark Wizard in possession of this wand seemed to enthrall him as much as it repulsed him.

‘So—you truly believe the Elder Wand exists, Mr Ollivander?’ asked Theodore.

‘Oh yes,’ said Ollivander. ‘Yes, it is perfectly possible to trace the wand’s course through history. There are gaps, of, course, and long ones, where it vanishes from view, temporarily lost or hidden; but always it resurfaces. It has certain identifying characteristics that those who are learned in wandlore recognize. There are written accounts, some of them obscure, that I and other wandmakers have made it our business to study. They have the ring of authenticity.’

‘Then it isn’t just a story myth?’ Theodore tried to confirm.

‘No,’ said Ollivander. ‘Whether it needs to pass by murder, I do not know. Its history is bloody, but that may be simply due to the fact that it is such a desirable object, and arouses such passions in wizards. Immensely powerful, dangerous in the wrong hands, and an object of incredible fascination to all of us who study the power of wands.’

‘Mr Ollivander,’ said Harry, ‘you told You-Know-Who that Gregorovitch had the Elder Wand, didn’t you?’

Ollivander turned, if possible, even paler. He looked ghostly as he gulped.

‘But how—how do you—?’

‘Never mind how I know it,’ said Harry, closing his eyes momentarily as his scar burned and he saw, for mere seconds, a vision of the main street in Hogsmeade, still dark, because it was so much farther north. ‘You told You-Know-Who that Gregorovitch had the wand?’

‘It was a rumour,’ whispered Ollivander. ‘A rumour, years and years ago, long before you were born, I believe Gregorovitch himself started it. You can see how good it would be for business; that he was studying and duplicating the qualities of the Elder Wand!’

‘Yes, I can see that,’ said Harry. He stood up. ‘Mr Ollivander, one last thing, and then we’ll let you get some rest. What do you know about the Deathly Hallows?’

‘The—the what?’ asked the wandmaker, looking utterly bewildered.

‘The Deathly Hallows.’

‘I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about. Is this still something to do with wands?’

Harry looked into the sunken face and believed that Ollivander was not acting. He did not know about the Hallows.

‘Thank you,’ said Harry. ‘Thank you very much.’

Before he could leave the man to rest, Allison had her own question.

‘Mr Ollivander, I lost my wand in the manor as well. My family is French, and my mother told me about her making my wand, but she never got to show me how. When you are more recovered could you tell me what to do?’

‘The makings of Ollivander wands are a family secret, but if you are determined to make your own wand I can give you some tips to start you on the right path,’ Mr Ollivander said with a tiny smile.

‘Thank you,’ said Allison with a nod.

‘We’ll leave you to get some rest now,’ said Harry, his voice took his small smile away.

Ollivander looked stricken.

‘He was torturing me!’ he gasped. ‘The Cruciatus Curse...you have no idea...’

‘I do,’ said Harry, ‘I really do. Please get some rest. Thank you for telling us all of this, I know it couldn’t have been easy.’

Harry led the other three down the staircase. Harry caught glimpses of Tonks, Tulip, Luna, and Dean sitting at the table in the kitchen, cups of tea in front of them. They all looked up at Harry as he appeared in the doorway, but he merely nodded to them and continued into the garden, his three friends behind him. The reddish mound of earth that covered Dobby lay ahead, and Harry walked back to it, as the pain in his head built more and more powerfully. It was a huge effort now to close down the visions that were forcing themselves upon him, but he knew that he would have to resist only a little longer. He would yield very soon, because he needed to know that his theory was right. He must make only one more short effort, so that he could explain to his friends.

‘Gregorovitch had the Elder Wand a long time ago,’ he said, ‘I saw You-Know-Who trying to find him. When he tracked him down, he found that Gregorovitch didn’t have it anymore: It was stolen from him by Grindelwald. How Grindelwald found out that Gregorovitch had it, I don’t know—but if Gregorovitch was stupid enough to spread the rumour, it can’t have been that difficult.’

Voldemort was at the gates of Hogwarts; Harry could see him standing there, and see too the lamp bobbing in the pre-dawn, coming closer and closer.

‘And Grindelwald used the Elder Wand to become powerful. And at the height of his power, when Dumbledore knew he was the only one who could stop him, he dueled Grindelwald and beat him, and he took the Elder Wand.’

‘Dumbledore’s wand was THE Elder Wand?’ said Tracey. ‘What, but—who owns it now? Where is it?’

‘At Hogwarts, Dumbledore was buried with it,’ said Harry, fighting to remain with them in the lake-side garden.

‘Then we have to go, we have to protect it!’ said Theodore urgently. ‘Harry, we can’t let it fall into his hands!’

‘It’s too late for that,’ said Harry. He could not help himself, but clutched his head, trying to help it resist. ‘He knows where it is. He’s there now.’

‘Harry!’ Allison said anxiously. ‘When did you learn this? While you were burying Dobby, Theo and I could have—‘

‘No,’ said Harry, and he sank to his knees in the grass. ‘You guys were right. Dumbledore didn’t want me to have it. He didn’t want me to take it. He wanted me to get the Horcruxes.’

‘But with it he’ll be unbeatable!’ moaned Theodore in defeat.

‘I’m not supposed to…I’m supposed to get the Horcruxes…’

And now everything was cool and dark: The sun was barely visible over the horizon as he glided alongside Snape, up through the grounds toward the lake.

‘I shall join you in the castle shortly,’ he said in his high, cold voice. ‘Leave me now.’

Snape bowed and set off back up the path, his black cloak billowing behind him. Harry walked slowly, waiting for Snape’s figure to disappear. It would not do for Snape, or indeed anyone else, to see where he was going. But there were no lights in the castle windows, and he could conceal himself…and in a second he had cast upon himself a Disillusionment Charm that hid him even from his own eyes.

And he walked on, around the edge of the lake, taking in the outlines of the beloved castle, his first kingdom, his birthright…

And here it was, beside the lake, reflected in the dark waters. The white marble tomb, an unnecessary blot on the familiar landscape. He felt again that rush of controlled euphoria, that heady sense of purpose in destruction. He raised the old yew wand: How fitting that this would be its last great act.

The tomb split open from head to foot. The shrouded figure was as long as thin as it had been in life. He raised the wand again. The wrappings fell open. The face was translucent, pale, sunken, yet almost perfectly preserved. They had left his spectacles on the crooked nose: He felt amused derision. Dumbledore’s hands were folded upon his chest, and there it lay, clutched beneath them, buried with him.

Had the old fool imagined that marble or death would protect the wand? Had he thought that the Dark Lord would be scared to violate his tomb? The spiderlike hand swooped and pulled the wand from Dumbledore’s grasp, and as he took it, a shower of sparks flew from its tip, sparkling over the corpse of its last owner, ready to serve a new master at last.

01. Grey Lady Quote: “If you need to ask you’ll never know. If you know you need only ask” (Something like that, what does the second sentence even mean)

02. After destroying most of the horcruxes

two of them being Hogwarts house objects. Isn’t it obvious that the next one is likely to be another house item? (Except the Sword because Harry would’ve felt it)

03. Those statues are they good or evil, I mean “neutral” is weird to describe them but they were just attacking literally everyone, (At first I thought they were giants and other creatures from the Forrest but they looked like those statues)

04. Why is Griphook so mean? Lol

Remember when Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Griphook broke into the Lestrange's vault in the DH? Remember how Hermione was disguised as Bellatrix? Well how did they get her hair?

This might have just been some part I forgot but does anyone know?

Happy birthday to Verne Troyer who made Griphook the Goblin come to life

Happy belated birthday to the dark lord for we wouldn’t have the tale of Harry Potter without you