บท 440: 24
Nothing Needed To Be Said
The room was small and quite dark, save for a large mason jar where magical bluebell flames danced within upon a small table right next to a large clear glass filled with ice cold water. The room was made of very smooth stone walls, and a single metal door with a slat in it. There were three men in this cramped little room at the moment. One stood in a corner, his arms crossed, and a look of purest hatred upon his prematurely lined face. The second man was pacing back and forth in front of the little table while the third man sat tied to a spindle legged chair, staring at the glass of water greedily.
"You look thirsty."
Sirius Black was eyeing the bound man with years of pent up rage. The man did not look up, but kept his focus on the glass of water. Sirius saw him trying to wet his dry lips with his tongue.
"Bet you'd like to quench your thirst. I mean, it is rather warm in here, and you haven't had anything for…" He looked to the man in the corner and shrugged. "… At least a day."
The man did not respond, though Sirius could see him beginning to shake slightly.
"You can imagine, I'm sure, that we are quite curious about a few rather important events Peter." Remus Lupin said, unbridled fury seething under the surface of the normally calm man. He uncrossed his arms to shove his fists in the pockets of his robes, still looking at the man on the chair with disgust.
"I told Bones everything." Peter Pettigrew said sourly, his voice only just louder than a whisper and very scratchy. "Not as if I had any choice in the matter. With all the Veritaserum she forced down my throat you now know everything I know. But like I told her, it won't do you any good. He knows all, and he will change all of his plans. He's always two steps ahead of you lot, and that's why he's going to win."
"Oh, you misunderstand my dear friend Remus, Peter." Sirius spat out. "See, we're not interested in that. We're more interested in what happened in the past to be honest.
Specifically as to what happened to our dear friend Peter Pettigrew. The boy we protected and backed all during school. Our good friend, whom any of us would have given our own life to protect. Our friend… who betrayed us all in the end."
"I suppose you expect me to beg for your forgiveness here?" Peter Pettigrew barely looked up, eyeing both men with loathing. "To grovel at your feet. Hmm? Forget it. My master shows me the respect my former Friends never did."
The word sounded as though it were acid in Peter's mouth. He let out a long huff as he stared at the water glass.
"He has rewarded me more than any other in his service. I, who sought him out and cared for him when he was most vulnerable. I, who sacrificed my own flesh for him." Pettigrew continued. "He has given me much more then you lot ever did. He's given me power."
"I'm sorry." Sirius began to chuckle. "Did you really just say power? Because, I happen to know you were beaten by a sixteen year old boy."
"Who was also recovering from fighting Voldemort." Remus added. "Don't forget he was hurt at the time."
"You could never understand." Pettigrew sneered. "And are we really going to attempt to keep up this charade that the boy is nothing more than a properly trained Auror? I was there the same as you when James told us of the Prophecy.
"And you swore with us that you would always protect him!" Remus shouted with rage, surprising Sirius as he lunged forward slamming his fists on the table. "We all did the day he was born!"
Sirius heard Remus snarl, and swore a bit of the wolf was breaking through, but Pettigrew didn't move at all or seem bothered by anything.
"You broke your oath, Peter." Sirius added, turning back to their captive. "We just want to know why?"
"Because I saw the future." Peter huffed bitterly. "I knew that the side of light would never win, just as you did. How many nights did the four of us debate the morality of war and always we came to the same conclusion! So long as Dumbledore was unwilling to fight a real war, The Dark Lord was going to win, and I for one didn't want to die for a cause I didn't believe in. Not to mention I was sick to death of being in the shadow of you three. So I chose my own path at last."
"Your own path?" Remus huffed.
"Seems like you're just another follower to me." Sirius remarked. Peter scowled.
"You think that because you pretended to be my friend that you actually know me?" Peter finally looked up at his former friends to face them fully his eyes full of hate. "You know nothing."
"We never pretended." Sirius said evenly. "You WERE our…"
"I WAS YOUR GODS DAMNED LOOKOUT!" Peter shouted, his face purpling with his ire. "Whenever the Marauders planned an adventure, I was always assigned to keep his eyes and ears open for a teacher. Don't you remember why we made that map Sirius? Because it will help ole Wormtail to warn us sooner. How many detentions did I serve to protect you lot? Did I ever get a two way mirror? Did any of you ever distract the teacher so someone could keep me company? No."
"You're right." Sirius sighed, looking hard at his former friend. "We should have treated you better. You were our friend, and we should not have taken you for granted in school… but after we graduated… you were family, Peter. You were one of James' Groomsmen. You were one we entrusted with protecting James and Lily. Not me, Not Remus… You."
"I'm not an idiot, Sirius." Peter snarled. "I was the last resort. You suspected Remus of being a traitor, just as he suspected you. You both confided in me."
"How did you escape after your trial?" Remus asked, standing up fully and returning to his original corner." I've always been curious as to how you did it, and where you went."
"I have you both to thank for that. If you hadn't helped me to become an Animagus, I never would have escaped. But, even though the Aurors knew of my ability, they were still unprepared when I got a little help from one of the Master's faithful, although, he had planned to kill me himself. I was able to change my form during the commotion, and slip into a crack in the wall right near the courts. I stayed there for five years, living off crumbs and always keeping my ears open for any whisper of my master. The others believed him done for, but I remembered. He talked many times about the steps he took to protect himself. So, I listened, and waited and finally, I felt I had an idea of where to begin my search." Peter took a long pause to catch his breath, turning back to stare at the water. Sirius took pity and slipped the glass closer and conjured a straw. Peter took a long drink, emptying the glass in one go. Sirius tapped his wand to the glass, refilling it.
"I traveled by night only in my human form, and only then after I was outside of England. It took the better part of two years, but I found him in Albania, just as I knew I would. He was weak, less than spirit, but he was still alive… in a sense.
"Albania? Why was he in Albania?" Sirius wondered.
"I never asked." Pettigrew sneered.
"I bet your master was so happy to see you." Remus said with a tone of sarcasm. "You could barely conjure a rock when we graduated."
"No, I was never as talented as my three former friends." Pettigrew admitted. "But I proved useful in other ways. I gathered information. I was the one who stole the infant that would become his homunculus and I cared for that beast until the time was right. I was the one who performed the ritual and cut off my own hand to restore him to a proper body. I am his most faithful, and he knows the depth of my loyalty to him."
"You've lost your mind." Sirius said, looking shocked. "What the hell happened to you?"
Peter barely glanced up. Remus grabbed Sirius by the shoulder and led him out of the cell, shutting the door and locking it with protective spells.
"Seriously, he's like some sort of cultist. I mean, it's beyond the imperius curse there. Did you see the look in his eyes, Remus? I mean, the level of devotion…"
"I don't believe you're that far from the mark." Remus agreed as he led his friend up a winding staircase. "We've heard Death Eaters claim they will be rewarded for their service, but somehow I think Peter's the only one who's actually seen any kind of gratitude. It's warped him. The Peter we knew… I think he was lost a long time ago."
"I hate to admit this, but A part of me feels sorry for him. Don't get me wrong, I'd still like to see the little shit hang for what he did, but…"
"I know." Remus nodded. "It doesn't matter anymore. Peter chose his path. He believes Voldemort is going to win, despite everything."
"Do you think we should have asked whether Voldemort knows about us destroying his little soul trinkets?"
"Dumbledore told us that Voldemort would likely not say anything so he wouldn't appear weak." Remus reminded his friend. "If the one we thought was at Malfoy Manor survived, he likely hid it himself this time. We'll have to make sure one way or another after this is all over. Dumbledore and Amelia are meeting with the Goblins tomorrow and they'll get the next one and destroy it."
"That just leaves the serpent, and the evil butt muncher himself." Sirius sighed.
"Really?" Remus sighed, looking disappointedly at Sirius who was smirking. "Harry's the one who's supposed to be acting like an immature child, not you."
"Can't help it." Sirius replied with a slight shove. "The closer we get to ending this, the more I feel like a huge weight is being lifted off of us and the more I want to act like a kid again. Maybe I could even show Harry how it's done."
Remus couldn't help the laugh that erupted from his belly at that mental image. Sirius kept right on grinning as he and his longtime friend continued up the stairs to meet with members of the Order for tonight's meeting.
It was a perfect moment.
That was the only way to describe the way Hermione Granger currently felt. She sat on the ground, leaning back into her boyfriend with his arms wrapped protectively and lovingly around her as she stared at the Black lake. He was leaning against a large willow tree, his chin resting on the top of her head. There was hardly any noise save for the breeze in the trees and the gentle lapping of the water on the shoreline. Occasionally they could hear fellow students shouting to one another from far away, but other than that, they were quite alone.
This was the kind of thing she had so often dreamt of when the world appeared to be against her. A picture perfect setting with a strong, handsome boy to hold her as if she were something precious that might disappear if he let her go.
It had only been a week. Just seven days since Hermione had been forced to take the life of another human being in order to protect herself and her boyfriend. Seven days since she had been forcibly entered into a war that she had never imagined becoming part of, despite having been in two small battles prior. Up to now, she had been able to convince herself that the war was far away and she would never need trouble herself about it. Then she met Harry. Then she began to fall in love. Then she had to fight, and then… she'd had to kill.
She'd read everything regarding Post Traumatic Stress, and all the theories on survivor's guilt. Some might even consider her an expert on the subject, but it was one thing to have the knowledge of something, and something else entirely to experience it.
She had easily rationalized her way through what had happened in the hallway in a logical fashion. That had been easy. If she hadn't done what she had, she and Harry would likely be very dead right now instead of cuddling under the shade of the large willow. This was war, and people died in war. She'd done what she had had to do.
However, Hermione was having a real hard time working through the emotional part of it. She was very confused, and she would sometimes start crying for no reason. And the worst part was the nightmares. Madam Pomfrey had given her Dreamless Sleep Potion for the first couple of nights, but had to stop allowing Hermione to take it to prevent her becoming addicted. And so, she had barely slept these past four nights thanks to the images her subconscious kept making her see.
Fortunately, Hermione had far more people to support her than she had ever had before. First there was Harry, who was by her side as much as he could be, ready for whatever she needed. Her parents had been there for the first two days after the incident, and even offered to bring her home anytime she wanted. Professor Dumbledore had spoken to her at great length, and told her to come to him anytime she needed to talk. Neville and Lavender had been very supportive. They didn't ask her to tell them everything. In fact, they hadn't said anything, but Hermione knew through their looks that if she wanted to unload, they would be there for her. But it had been Professor McGonagall who Hermione had spent the most time with over the last week.
Hermione guessed it was likely due to the fact that Professor McGonagall had been there for her the most in the past five years that had made her seek out her favorite teacher and speak about what she was feeling. She knew from experience that the Transfiguration teacher would never judge her, or mock her. It was a trust built up over five years, and something Hermione knew she could count on.
The Transfiguration teacher had been deeply concerned about Hermione's wellbeing, and had invited her to visit nearly every day, which Hermione did gratefully.
"I can't sleep." Hermione had said the previous evening after dinner when she'd come to see McGonagall. "I keep seeing his face. I know that when it actually happened, I couldn't see anything, but in my dreams, I see it as plain as I can see you now."
"Our imagination is a powerful thing, and when it's paired with our conscience…"
McGonagall said softly, stirring her tea as she watched Hermione who was staring out the window.
McGonagall sighed after a moment's silence.
"There is nothing I can tell you that will change how you feel about what happened, Hermione. Nothing I say will make you feel better now, which is what I know you want, but you have to go through this. You have to let yourself feel it all or it will be worse later." She said plainly.
"I know." Hermione said, fighting back another wave of tears. "What frightens me most is that I don't feel as bad as I know that I should. I hated him. I hated him with every fiber of my being, and I wanted something bad to happen to him. But, I didn't want to be the one to do it. I didn't want to kill him. I didn't want to kill anyone. But…"
She took a breath and wiped at her watery eyes.
"I don't feel the way I think I should." She sighed.
"You believe that because you did what you had to do, what anyone would do in the same situation, that you might somehow be evil." McGonagall said, leaning forward in her seat. Hermione looked up, and gave the faintest of nods.
"Hermione, I think I would be much more worried about you if you didn't feel this way. After suffering so much bullying at the hands of Mister Malfoy, it's only natural that you would feel vengeful. You feel guilty over the fact, that you don't feel worse over his death, especially as you were the one to end his life. You have to remember that he forced you to act. No matter how you felt about Draco Malfoy personally. No matter your history, he forced you to act, and he paid the price for his actions." McGonagall said evenly, though her tone was soothing.
"I'm always going to see his face in my mind." Hermione mumbled miserably.
"I'm afraid that you will carry this with you for the rest of your life." Professor McGonagall sighed heavily, wishing she could take away Hermione's pain. "I could obliviate you of course, but, it would be doing you a disservice. As Professor Dumbledore told you, you are now a part of this war, and that means you are likely going to be forced to act again."
Hermione sighed, and snuggled into Harry's embrace a little more. He gave her a small squeeze, and kissed the top of her head.
"Neville told me that Hannah talked to him yesterday." Harry said.
"I've seen them talking during the Defense club a lot lately." Hermione replied.
"He said that she wants him to take her to Hogsmeade next weekend." Harry stated. "He said she wants to see if they could make another go of it, and that she's really missed him. He said yes, but he isn't sure that it was the right thing to do because he's feeling very strongly about Lavender now."
"Really?" Hermione asked, interestedly.
"He says that Hannah still has feelings for him, and that she was stupid in dumping him because she knew he wasn't at fault for anything that happened, but she wanted to blame him for it." Harry said.
"It's understandable." Hermione replied.
"Do you blame me?" Harry asked. Hermione shot bolt upright and turned to look at Harry. He was looking at her strangely, as if he was… if it was even possible for him, almost as if he was afraid of her answer.
"Of course not." She said emphatically. "Why would you even think that?"
Harry gave a slight shrug. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm not really good at reading people… you know, emotionally. And The Neville Hannah thing got me thinking about what happened. Let's be honest, since We've met you've been put in some pretty bad situations. I mean, if I never came here, you never would have had to…"
"If you had never come to Hogwarts, we never would have met, Harry." Hermione said sternly. "Yes, since we've met, I've had to fight in three battles that I probably would never have found myself in otherwise. However, I also never would not have had my first kiss under the mistletoe. Or been escorted to a swanky party on New Year's eve and taught my new boyfriend how to dance. I likely never would have gone to France and spent the day on some stranger's boat and taken him and his wife to dinner just because. And I wouldn't have had any of a million special moments that I've shared with you Harry."
Harry gave her a quick nod that said he understood, but Hermione could still see a twinkle of doubt in his eyes. It occurred to her then, that she was becoming pretty adept at reading him at long last.
"Harry, I know exactly who's to blame for what happened, and I know what could have happened if I didn't do what I did. If I could use a Time Turner, and go back, I think I'd still do exactly what I did."
Hermione finished. Harry gave her another nod, and reached up to caress her cheek gently. She closed her eyes at his touch and turned around to lean back into his chest.
"I just… I just wish I didn't feel so twisted inside about it all." She sighed. "How do you deal with it? I mean… I know you're not some cold hearted murderer. How do you deal with having to do what you have to do?"
"I do I handle the guilt over killing a Death Eater?" Harry asked for clarifications. Hermione gave a nod and Harry took a deep breath.
"To be honest, I don't really have any." Harry said after a long moment. This caused Hermione to sit up again to look at him. She looked horrified, and Harry held up his hand to stifle the tirade he knew was on the tip of her tongue.
"I don't have any because I don't consider them to be human. The things they do to people. The torture and murder… they act like rabid animals, and so I treat them as such. It's humane to put down a rabid animal. If I let myself think of them as people, as human beings… Well to be honest, I don't think I could handle it. I don't think I could do what I have to do. I have to separate them in my head. It's the only way I can justify it. It also helps that they wear masks. The ones whose faces I've seen… I still see them. Every one." Harry said earnestly.
"I had no idea." Hermione admitted.
"Draco was always foul to you. He spent so much time and energy to make you feel as if you were less than scum, and in his eyes, you were. But it was Draco who was less than human. He tried to kill you for no other reason than he loathed what you were. He wouldn't have even lost a minute's sleep, and would have gone on to do gods only know what to his next victim. You saved countless people when you acted to save yourself and me. You showed you true strength Hermione." Harry said emphatically.
Hermione gave a nod, and once again settled into Harry's embrace.
"Does it get easier?" Hermione asked hopeful.
"No." Harry replied, kissing her head. "But I promise to do all I can to keep you as far away from anymore of this as you want to be."
Hermione felt her heart swell at these words. Most boys would have sworn to keep her safe and far away from any danger. But Harry knew she was capable of handling herself and he was leaving the choice up to her. He wasn't going to try and take away her independence, or treat her as if she were made of glass. He trusted her, and believed she could handle whatever life, or this war had in store for her.
"Thank you Harry." She smiled softly, stroking his wrists where they lay upon her belly.
They fell into silence again, listening to the breeze and the distant voices of their fellow students who were also out enjoying the late spring sunshine. Hermione began to think back over the year, and how much her life had changed in just a few months. She couldn't help but begin to wonder how different life might have been if Harry had been at Hogwarts all long. Would they have been friends? Would he have been one of the people who teased her? Would she have hated him, or would they have still fallen in love with each other?
"Have you ever thought about what your life might have been like without Voldemort?' Hermione asked softly. Harry's right hand sought out her left, and his fingers interlaced with hers.
"Not really." Harry replied in his usual flat tone.
"Not once?" Hermione asked, turning a bit so she could see his face.
"It would have served no purpose to imagine what could never have happened." Harry replied. But then his expression became pensive and thoughtful, as if he was remembering something long forgotten.
"I… when I was younger, maybe seven or eight, I had this recurring dream. I had it almost every night for like six months or something. It was always the same too. I was woken up by my father who would race me down the stairs, and he always let me win. My mum was there waiting for us, dishing up eggs and bacon for us. They talked about things they were going to do that day and told me that Remus was going to come tutor me while they went to work, but that they would be home early, and that we would celebrate when they got home."
"What were you celebrating?" Hermione asked. Harry shrugged.
"I never knew. Never once was it ever mentioned, but Sirius believes I was dreaming about my birthday or something." Harry went on. "They never came home though. I always woke up, and they never came home."
Hermione sat up and turned to face him. Harry was always so good at hiding what he was feeling behind a stony mask. Even his eyes were like empty pools of green most times. Hermione had learned to read him pretty well but he had always been like a marble statue… until today.
It wasn't obvious by any means, but Hermione saw it quite clearly. His eyes looked distant, almost lost. He took a deep breath and turned to look at her. She gave him a soft smile, and reached up to cup his cheek lovingly.
She pressed her lips to his and he embraced her tightly. After a moment she pulled back and looked him in the eye as she began to speak.
"I promise I will always come home to you." She said in a whisper.
"And I will always come back to you." He nodded in return, pulling her against him once again. Hermione pressed her lips to his, her heart pounding in her chest as a seed of doubt took root in her mind. After all, Harry had only barely survived his last confrontation with the Dark Lord. She began to wonder if perhaps she was going to lose him in the end.
"I have to have faith in him." She told herself. "I have to believe in us."
It was barely after nine in the morning when Professor Dumbledore and Madam Amelia Bones were met by Bill Weasley in front of Gringott's bank.
The aged Headmaster felt a deep sadness as he had walked through Diagon Alley and watched the shopping district begin opening for the business day. The once thriving magical marketplace was little more than a ghost town these days. Very few shops remained open now, and of those, fewer still were doing well, as people were using Owl Order now as it was likely safer to remain in your home than wandering out where Death Eaters could possibly be roaming.
But that would all change if today proved fruitful.
If Dumbledore was correct in his deductions, a piece of Lord Voldemort's soul was resting somewhere deep underground in one of the vaults of the goblin bank.
"Good morning." Bill Weasley said with an easy smile.
Dumbledore had always liked Bill, from the moment the redhead boy had first entered Hogwarts and sat upon the spindle legged stool to be sorted. The boy had a great charm, and a strong quiet confidence. Not to mention a never give up attitude. Bill never started anything he didn't finish. It was these qualities that had led them to being here today. Bill had worked tirelessly in negotiating with the Goblins to allow for people to enter the vaults of old, and highly valued customers.
"Good morning Bill." Amelia greeted the red head with a smile. Dumbledore offered a firm, friendly shake of the hand before Bill turned and led them inside.
"You'll be meeting with Ironclaw, Bogrod, and Gorruk. Ragnok won't be there." Bill explained as he led his companions past the tellers and up a staircase which led to a long hallway.
"Why not?" Amelia asked.
"He's meeting with the heads of other clans from Europe regarding the possible ramifications if we lose the war. I think it's a war tribunal. They've realized what is likely to happen should You-Know-Who's forces take over the government. They don't want to become extinct." Bill smirked grimly.
"Do you think they will enter the war?" Amelia asked concernedly.
"I don't think we would want that. They wouldn't differentiate between factions." Bill's expression soured. "I think if they went to war, it'd be with all wizards, not just the dark ones."
"Well then we should hope that things go well today so they won't have to bother." Amelia remarked.
"I think that if we keep our word, relations with the goblins will, at the very least, remain as they are." Dumbledore remarked.
"We finish this war, and I will spend the rest of my career to ensure we live up to our word." Amelia promised. Dumbledore smiled appreciatively.
"In here." Bill said, turning to a door and opening it to let them into a room with a long table, and several comfortable looking chairs. There was another smaller table set against the far wall where three pitchers of water and an array of glasses were set, as well as two ornate silver pitchers, which Dumbledore figured was filled with grog, a favorite drink of Goblins. Most people found it disgusting. It smelled like urine, and tasted like tar.
Amelia took the seat in the most middle part of the table. She was flanked on either side by both Bill and Dumbledore. They had barely sat down when three angry looking Goblins walked in, and greeted them.
"We have already spoken at great length with Mister Weasley about what it is you want of us today." Bogrod, the tallest, and angriest looking goblin began, flashing his sharp teeth as he spoke. "Your offer is acceptable to us in light of the current… climate. What we wish is to know how we can be sure you will keep your end of this bargain?"
"Master goblin," Amelia began, looking right into the eyes of Bogrod. "Our history has been bloody, to say the least. However, we have managed to find a way to exist, and to even help each other in the last century. No one wants to repeat our history. In order to do that, we need to evolve. That means recognizing other species as equals, and treating them accordingly. I am not by any means saying that it will happen overnight, but it is going to happen, and this could be one of the first steps. Lord Voldemort presents a serious threat to both our people, and only working together assures a victory."
"Elegant sentiment, but you have not given us any assurances." Ironclaw stated. The youngest of the three goblins folded his arms in defiance.
"There are no words that will prove what we say." Dumbledore spoke up. "And no oath we could give would guarantee that others will do as we promised. It will be a long hard path we must forge together. We have already promised you all the gold and treasures of those we have confirmed to be supporting the Dark Lord which given many of the names upon the list, should be quite the sum. Other than that, we have nothing to give you that would be enough to convince you beyond doubt that all we have promised will come to be."
Dumbledore reached into his robes and placed something upon the table between himself and the goblins. It was nothing really, just an old ring with a crack on the cold obsidian like stone.
"What is this?" Bogrod asked, looking tentatively at the ring.
"That was once the family ring of the Peverell family before it was turned into one of the foulest, most hateful things ever invented by wizards. I destroyed it, and now it is little more than junk. This is just one of the protections Lord Voldemort made to ensure his immortality. One of seven that we have sought after and destroyed in order to end his reign of terror." Dumbledore said plainly.
The goblins stared at him and he kept their gaze as he leaned forward, folding his hands on the table.
"A Horcrux."
The three goblins hissed and reeled back. Dumbledore saw Amelia giving him a curious look, but he ignored it for the moment.
"You believe one of these… abominations rests within one of our vaults?" Ironclaw nearly shouted, clearly offended by such an accusation.
"I do, Master Goblin." Dumbledore nodded. "We wish to find it and destroy it. Nothing more. We don't even wish to take it with us once it is dealt with."
"Weasley, why did you never mention this?" Bogrod turned steely eyes on his employee who remained stone faced.
"Mister Weasley was acting on my orders not to bring it up." Dumbledore said quickly.
"It was best to keep that bit as quiet as possible. But he is aware now that we are seeking them and destroying them. I fear it will not be long before he seeks to take it back if it is indeed here. I doubt he will allow anyone to remain alive, and we know what an attack on this institution would result in. We wish to avoid that."
"Do you know what the item is?" Bogrod asked impatiently. Dumbledore shook his head.
"I am very familiar with the magical signature, and am certain I can find it if you would allow me to enter each of those vaults."
The three goblins excused themselves for a moment. Bill turned to Amelia and Dumbledore before rising out of his seat.
"Do you think they'll let us enter the vaults?" Amelia asked Bill who shrugged.
"I don't know." Bill replied. "But I've never seen them look so…"
"Terrified?" Amelia suggested. Bill shrugged while Dumbledore remained stoic.
"I believe the Goblins understand the Horcrux better than we think." Dumbledore said. "It's too bad they are so guarded with their history. Perhaps we could learn from them things we have yet to learn on our own."
The door opened again and Ironclaw stepped in.
"Permission has been granted for you, Albus Dumbledore, to accompany me to the vaults." The goblin said, his voice cold and hard, his eyes narrowed.
"Very well." Dumbledore rose from his seat and followed the goblin. "I shall return in due course. Hopefully, with another destroyed Horcrux."
Amelia and Bill nodded as Dumbledore left.
Ironclaw led the headmaster to a large steel door where five other goblins, all wearing battle armor, waited.
"They shall accompany us into the lowest levels." Ironclaw explained, though Dumbledore made no sign that this was disagreeable. They will make sure you keep to our agreement. You will be allowed entry into all the vaults on this list until you find this… item and destroy it. You will then be brought back up where you will be free to leave."
"I am ready when you are, Master Goblin." Dumbledore said respectfully. Ironclaw bowed slightly, and then spoke to the armored goblins in their native tongue before leading them all through the steel door and into two waiting carts. Dumbledore sat next to Ironclaw in the first cart, and when two of the armored goblins took seats behind them, Ironclaw pulled hard on a lever next to him and the cart shot down the rails destined for the lowest and oldest vaults in the bank.
Dumbledore wondered idly why the Goblins made these cart rides so nauseating. Perhaps it was just a bit of sadism on their part. Indeed so far as the Headmaster was aware, only Muggleborns really enjoyed the rise, as it reminded them of rollercoasters. Having ridden such rides, Dumbledore understood the comparison, though he was not fond of rollercoasters either.
The journey was thankfully short, and Dumbledore got out on rather shaky legs to follow his Goblin companions through the catacombs. He refrained from grimacing as the goblins used clankers to ward off the chained dragons that stood guard. The Hogwarts Headmaster was lead to the first vault. Ironclaw opened the vault which belonged to the Avery family. Dumbledore was rather surprised at how little was in there. Some rare and ancient books, a few paintings, a lot of contracts and a small pile of gold.
"I do not believe what we seek is here." Dumbledore said regretfully.
"Perhaps one of the others. We do have near fifty vaults to check." Ironclaw snarled.
The next two vaults, Blythe, and Miller were the same. But the third, Rookwood, was overflowing with gold and treasures. It took three hours to get through it all as Dumbledore had to move very carefully through the vault so as not to set off any wards or protections placed on the contents. Ironclaw remarked that until the Goblins took all holdings, things would remain under protection.
The Nott and MacNair, Carrow, Dolohov and Rowle vaults were all similar to Rookwood's vault. All filled to bursting with gold and family heirlooms, but nothing within held the all to familiar magical signature of the Dark Lord. Dumbledore was beginning to think he may have been misguided as the next ten vaults proved fruitless. Though all the vaults contained dark items within, nothing resonated with Dumbledore until they got to the vault of the LeStrange family.
Just as many vaults before, the LeStrange vault was filled with coin and family treasures, many of which were quite dark. But here, Dumbledore felt it. The unmistakable feeling of unseemliness and decay. Dumbledore was immediately on alert, and told the goblins that they may have found it.
It was placed upon a high shelf within the vault, centered between a large jewelry box of aged mahogany and small rack which held three large knives that looked to be made of obsidian stone.
The cup was made of gold, and looked exactly like the goblets students used at Hogwarts. Dumbledore guessed they were modeled after this cup, though where the Hogwarts crest should have been, there was an etched badger face.
"The cup of Helga Hufflepuff." Dumbledore grimaced. "I should have guessed it."
"It is one of those abominations?" Ironclaw asked.
"I believe it is."
Ironclaw moved forward and reached into his coat, producing a miniature ladder from a pocket within. He placed it upon the floor, balancing it upright where it began to grow into a full sized ladder which Ironclaw began to climb. He reached the shelf, and ran his sharp claws on several runes on the shelf before retrieving the cup and descending the ladder again.
Ironclaw presented the cup to Dumbledore who took it in his weathered hands to exam more closely. There was no mistaking it. This was the cup of one of the Hogwarts founders, and it had been tainted by Lord Voldemort.
"I have handled many dark items in my service to this bank, but none have felt so… abhorrent." Ironclaw said, gritting his teeth in disgust. "How do you mean to destroy it?"
Dumbledore walked out of the vault, followed by Ironclaw and set the cup on the floor. He reached into his inside pocket and took out a ones shining sword with rubies on the hilt.
"The sword of Godric Gryffindor?" Ironclaw snarled. "You stole it!"
"I am afraid that is untrue." Dumbledore replied."
"The sword went missing fourteen years ago and you just happen to have it now?"
Ironclaw asked, nodding to the armored goblins, who all drew short swords and pointed them at the headmaster who shook his head.
"Master Goblin, no one person, nor species. This sword presents itself to any in great need just as it did for me fourteen years ago. I assure you that I had no idea where it was located before that. I will be glad to hand it over to you when I have destroyed this abomination, but I assure you that regardless of any protections you may put on it to keep it will fail should another have great need of it in the future."
Ironclaw stared at the Headmaster for a long time before waving the other goblins back.
"I will have that sword when you finish Wizard." Ironclaw said contemptuously.
"As you wish." Dumbledore nodded, turning back to the cup that had begun trembling. The armored goblins began to whisper to one another as they stared in awe at the golden cup that was almost dancing on its own. The torches dimmed as if wind were trying to blow them out.
"What are you doing, Wizard?" Ironclaw asked, his voice low and threatening.
"This is not my magic." Dumbledore said. "It knows it's end is coming."
The cup was almost jumping now, and Dumbledore swore he could hear the voice of the enemy screaming as if from a vast distance. The goblins were looking fearful, and the Headmaster knew that if he didn't destroy the Horcrux soon, their fear would turn to anger, and they would attack him, believing he was responsible for what was happening. So he hefted the shining Sword of Gryffindor and brought it down as hard and as fast as he could.
There was a ringing clang followed immediately by a deafening scream the riled every dragon within the vaults to roar in agony. There was a massive explosion of energy that sent the goblins and the old man flying through the air as if caught up by a tornado. And then, silence fell like a ton of bricks, and the torches began to burn as brightly as always.
Ironclaw woke with a start. His vision swam a bit, but he steadied himself and spat blood upon the floor. He felt something warm and stick on the back of his head, and discovered he'd suffered quite a cut on the back of his head, given the amount of blood on his dirty fingers.
The armored goblins that had accompanied him and the wizard were also stirring now, but the wizard lay still against the wall where he'd been thrown. Ironclaw approached him slowly, watching him for any sign of life.
"Wizard?' Ironclaw asked as he came closer. The sword lay next to the aged man. His eyes were closed, and Ironclaw saw blood pooling on the ground under his head. The goblin looked up and saw an iron sconce that had once held a torch covered in blood. The goblin realized what must have happened and turned to one of his companions.
"Send for a healer." Ironclaw said quickly as he rushed to Dumbledore's side, and lifted a hand.
He turned to look at the now melted and twisted remains of the once beautiful wizarding artifact. He began ushering a stream of curses in his native tongue. This was definitely not going to help in strengthening relations with the magicals.
Hermione emerged from the floo right into Harry's waiting arms. She was thankful he had gone first as she was sure she would have fallen face first when she burst out of the fire. She couldn't get her mind to focus at all, and surely not enough to exit a floo without falling.
"Alright?" He asked, brushing a bit of soot off her face. She nodded, too afraid to speak as her stomach was still churning. She really hated floo travel.
Harry pulled her aside as Remus came through a second later.
"Where'd Sirius go?" The man asked, looking to Harry, trying not to smile at the way he held Hermione so protectively.
"He went to the desk to find out what room we needed to go to." Harry replied. Nodding to where his godfather had run off after Harry had come through the floo. Remus told the two young people to follow him, and Harry took Hermione's hand and began to lead her after the prematurely aged man. Hermione took a long look around at the waiting room, noting that for all intents and purposes, it wasn't that different from your average muggle hospital. The room was lined with chairs, most of which were seated people who looked anxious or bored. There were some people who looked sick or hurt, but not so bad they needed attention right away, for which Hermione was grateful. She hated the idea of anyone suffering more than they had too.
The smell was different here. It still smelled clean, but there wasn't the overwhelming bleach smell. In fact, it smelled like a clean spring day. She was about to remark to Harry about it when Sirius spoke to them all.
"We're on the fourth floor." He said anxiously.
Hermione allowed herself to be led along by Harry as she tried to understand why her presence had been requested. She and Harry had only just finished lunch and were about to head to afternoon classes when Professor McGonagall had caught up with them and bade them to follow her.
She and Harry had followed the Transfiguration teacher to her office where Sirius and Remus awaited, both looking quite grim.
"There was some kind of incident." Sirius began before the door was even closed behind the teens. "Dumbledore was hurt, and he's asking for you."
Sirius looked Hermione right in the eye when he added. "Both of you."
Hermione didn't have the chance to ask anything as Sirius all but leapt through the floo, followed by Harry. However now as she stepped into a lift with her boyfriend and his guardians, it was all she could think about.
"Why me?" She wondered. "Sirius and Remus made sense, and even Harry for that matter, but Hermione Granger? What would the Headmaster and the leader of the fight against Voldemort possibly want with her? Especially if he was grievously hurt?
Hermione was tucked tightly into Harry's side as the lift began it's ascent to the fourth floor where answers awaited her.
The lift came to a very abrupt halt and jerked to the left before the doors opened and Sirius, Remus, and Harry all got out, followed by a queasy looking Hermione. They walked down a long hall, passing many rooms, and a large waiting area where they were greeted by an attractive older woman with a stern expression that didn't reach her eyes. She launched herself into Sirius arms, and held him tightly, trying to stop tears that were falling down her cheeks.
"At last!" a she said with relief. "What took you so long? I sent Bill to floo call you over an hour ago."
It had been nearly five months since Hermione had last seen the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, and she shuddered slightly at the memory that had led to that initial meeting. Even after all this time, the memory of the party at Longbottom Manor still made her shudder.
Amelia Bones stepped back from Sirius and greeted Remus before turning to the teens. "It's been awhile, Miss Granger. It's good to se you again. Though I wish the circumstances were better."
"It's uh… nice to see you again too." Hermione said nervously. Amelia gave a weak smile to the girl and turned to Sirius who was clearing his throat.
"You were pretty vague earlier. What exactly happened?" Sirius asked.
"I don't know." Amelia admitted. "The goblins said that he destroyed the item, but there was an explosion of energy that threw him into a wall. They said he hit a torch sconce, and that when they got him awake, he couldn't feel anything. They put him in stasis and we brought him here. The healers are doing all they can, but they aren't optimistic. They say there's far more damage to his body than just a concussion or a broken neck. They say it looks like he's been taking some serious curses or something. They're stymied."
"What do you mean?" Remus looked puzzled. Amelia shrugged indicating she was just as confused as they were.
"He was awake for a bit earlier, but he was really out of it. He was… He was talking to people who weren't there, and kept asking for these two.' She indicated Harry and Hermione. "I think he knows he's going to die."
Sirius and Remus looked at each other and then at Harry, both with identical expressions of nervous anticipation.
"Can we see him?" Remus asked.
"Not yet." Amelia said shaking her head. "But I don't think we'll have to…"
She was stopped from finishing her sentence when a tall ruggedly handsome healer stepped out of the door they were standing in front of and smiled sadly.
"He's awake, but very weak. He's asked to speak to Harry or Hermione." The Healer said, looking almost broken hearted. "I can only allow one visitor at a time please."
"Go." Harry said to Hermione.
"Are you sure?" Hermione asked nervously, unsure if she could speak to the greatest wizard to have lived upon what could very well be his death bed.
"Hermione, he asked for you specifically. It must be important. Go." Harry urged again.
Hermione gave him a grave smile, but forced herself to move.
The room was well lit, and she could see Dumbledore resting in a slightly elevated bed. He looked incredibly frail, and had a bandaged wrapped around his head.
"Pro-Professor? It's me. Hermione Granger." Hermione said softly.
Dumbledore's eyes remained shut, but he took a deep breath and raised his left hand to her. Hermione almost sprinted across the room to take the old man's offered hand.
"Miss Granger.' He said in a weak gravelly voice. "I am pleased to have a bit of time with you before I go on." He wheezed. "I have a few things I wish to say to you. Firstly, I very much wish to apologize for not doing more to protect you from those who sought to belittle or bully you."
"Don't…" Hermione started as tears began to fall from her eyes. His grip was weak, and he looked incredibly pale. "Don't trouble yourself…"
"I feel that I must. You see, I allowed Draco and others to harass you because I could not prove his wrongdoing, though I knew who was behind nearly every incident. I should have just punished them. Perhaps with a few detentions, they would have backed off, and left you alone." Dumbledore sighed.
"It's okay, Professor. "I'm fine now." Hermione tried to smile.
"Yes, you are." Dumbledore chuckled weakly. "You have shown such great strength of character, and a bravery few can match. And I see why Harry is so fond of you, even if he himself can not truly identify it. Perhaps it is as Minerva said, and I allowed Harry to come to Hogwarts when you were ready for each other."
Hermione gave a watery chuckle at that and gave the old man's hand a gentle squeeze.
"Miss Granger, despite your many opportunities, you chose to remain at Hogwarts. You refused to let others dictate how you lived your life, and most importantly, and despite how frightening it must have been, you opened your heart to another, trusted someone without any proof he would not break it. That my sweet child is the definition of bravery. You are undoubtedly a Gryffindor." Dumbledore began to cough, and Hermione wondered if she should call for help, but Dumbledore regained control again. He took two rattling breaths before he continued speaking.
Hermione smiled as she remembered how she used to believe Harry would simple turn away once he'd learned how pathetic everyone believed her to be, and how she had tried to prevent herself from becoming too close to him. Boy she had failed spectacularly at that, not that she was too upset by it now.
"You are stronger when you are together, you and Harry, and you will need that strength in the coming days. But I believe with all of my heart and soul that you will both survive the trials that await you and have the long and happy life you both so very richly deserve." Dumbledore continued.
Hermione stifled a sob and squeezed Dumbledore's hand once again. Dumbledore smiled weakly and opened his eyes to look at her, his own tears leaking from his once bright blue eyes.
"Trust in him, and more importantly, trust in yourself, Miss Granger." He said with a very tired, but sincere smile. "It has been my great pleasure to know you… Hermione."
"It has been my honor, sir." She said in reply which made his smile grow.
Dumbledore asked her to send in Harry and Hermione gave his hand one last squeeze before she turned and left the room. After Harry went into the room, Amelia Bones led her back to the waiting area just down the hall where she slumped into a chair and began to ball her eyes out with Madam Bones soothingly rubbing circles on her back.
It was sometime before she managed to calm down. When she finally did, Amelia smiled softly at her.
"He is quite fond of you. Professor Dumbledore I mean." Amelia said gently.
Hermione looked up, still sniffling and wiped at her eyes as she looked at Amelia.
"Never seen that man smile the way he did when he would talk about you and Harry. Like a proud grandfather bragging about his grandkids." Amelia chuckled lightly. "That man loved almost all of his students, but only a few ever made him smile the way he did when he would talk about you and that young man in there."
"I want to hate him, for so many things. He knew people were making my life hell. He just told me he knew, but that he couldn't do anything." Hermione said bitterly. "On top of that, he took an innocent child and turned him into some kind of weapon. What kind of person could do that to a child?"
"Dumbledore always chose to look at the bigger picture. The Greater Good, if you will. That is until last June when he saw what he had wrought. He knew he had to rectify his mistake. He is a good man with good intentions. He just never really saw how his methods really affected individuals. He was more of a big picture person before now."
Hermione just nodded. She could barely hold onto a thought at the moment the shock over what Dumbledore had said to her was still so fresh. He had told her that he should have done more to protect her. That he had known who had bullied her all along, and had done nothing. Granted he'd been unable to prove anything, but he had still felt guilty over it all.
Hermione had been shaken more by how frail and old Dumbledore had looked. She had known he was quite advanced in years, but it had never really occurred to her just how old he really was because he'd always appeared so strong, and vibrant. It was easy to forget he was a century and a half in age when he would look at you with that damned enchanting twinkle in his eye. Not to mention the way he would speak to you as if you were an equal, even when you were acting more than a little childish.
"I want to hate him, but I just can't. It's because of him… in a way… that my life has gotten better. He let Harry come to school. I can't hate him, but I'm still furious with him." Hermione said, sniffling.
"Perhaps he wished to tell you whatever he told you in order to make amends in the hopes that one day you could forgive him. To me, that tells me he respected you a great deal."
Hermione could only nod as fresh tears overtook her. Her mind was jammed with so many thoughts that it would surprise her later that it didn't just shut down. So lost in her thoughts was Hermione that she didn't even register Amelia Bones telling her she was going to find Sirius. She didn't notice when Tonks arrived and said hello, nor when Remus came into se if she was alright. She didn't notice anything until Harry returned.
She looked up at him, and her heart broke when she saw the look of utter shock upon his normally stoic face. His eyes were distant and misty and his mouth hung slightly open. He tried several times to say something to her, but nothing came out. Hermione leapt to her feet and wrapped him in her arms, and held him tightly as Harry Potter began to lose control.
"He's…" Harry began, his voice cracking. "He's…"
But his voice refused to cooperate anymore than that. He cleared his throat, and tried once more but the words wouldn't come. Hermione nodded, and ran her fingers through his hair comfortingly as Harry began to collapse. They crumpled to the floor together, and Hermione held onto her boyfriend, communicating that she was there for him without uttering a single word as Harry began to shake.
Nothing more was said between them. Nothing needed to be said. They simple held each other, lending their strength as they grieved.
That night, the magical world joined together in the mourning of the passing of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.
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