If You Seek Beneath Our Floors
Saturday, February 1st
The others left in the night, leaving the goblins to sleep on the edge of the protective bubble around the Quartet, and Harry to wake up to Hermione scowling out at them.
“I don’t like this, Harry…” she said, but he’d already made his mind and a good night’s sleep had only solidified that.
“C’mon, Hermione, you’re just jealous I got a plate of venison last night and you all are starving.” He joked, patting her shoulder, then ducking back inside the tent.
“When are you planning on telling them we exist?” Draco asked rather bluntly, already sitting cross legged on his bed, one of his textbooks in his lap, his Weasley jumper on over his pajamas.
“After they agree to help,” Harry said confidently. He’d never felt more confident in weeks, actually.
Sure enough, by midday the goblins were calling Harry's name and he stepped out of the boundary, taking a seat on a rock once more.
“We’ve reached a decision, Harry Potter,” said Griphook, folding his arms and eyeing him just as skeptical as the night before. “Though the goblins of Gringotts will consider it base treacher, we’ve decided to help you.”
“That’s great!” Harry exclaimed, then realized, belatedly, he should probably bring up what Draco had pointed out back in the tent. “I… er… Should probably tell you though… I’m not alone.”
“We know,” the two chorused and he blinked at them, stunned.
“Wha - How do you -”
“As you pointed out last night, Mr. Potter, I was the one to lead you to your vault at Gringotts five years ago, therefore I know, with simple math that goblins can do thank you very much, that you are underage. Meaning,” he gestured to the bubble of enchantments they couldn’t see but knew to be there. “You couldn’t have done this yourself.”
Harry grimaced. “Okay, you got me. I’m traveling with three others -”
“Hermione Granger,” he spun around and saw each of his friends appearing out of the bubble, outstretching their hands to Griphook then Gornuk to shake.
“Ronald Weasley,” said Ron.
“Draco Malfoy,” said Draco.
“So young…” Gorunk whispered, but didn’t say a word other than that. He successfully plunged them into awkward silence for a moment, however, before Harry coughed into his fist and they continued with the formalities of this agreement.
“You’ll want the sword in return, right?” he asked and the two nodded at him.
“That was the deal,” said Gornuk.
Harry paused for a moment, thinking on how to word his next offer. He could, he realized, swap out the real sword for the fake and run before they noticed. Certainly, that applied to whatever ‘greater good’ Dumbledore believed in, right? Certainly, he’d have wanted him to do this, as he’d do it himself… Or, he could be tricky about it. Surely that’s what Draco, the cunning Slytherin, would have him do, right? Say he’ll get the sword after they need it, but not specify exactly when that would be…
It could take years, though, and that still left a sour taste in his mouth, ‘the greater good’ echoing in his mind in Dumbledore’s voice.
But what choice did they really have?
“You’ll get the sword,” he said, hands shaking as he did so so that he had to bury them into the snow, out of sight. “After we have finished using it to defeat You-Know-Who. Does that satisfy you?”
The two were boring into him enough to burn right through him with their black, white-less eyes.
“We have your word, Harry Potter, that you will give us the sword of Gryffindor if we help you?”
Harry’s mouth opened but he felt a thump on his shoulder, suddenly, and whirled around to see Draco scowling at the pair.
“After we’ve used it.” he said and Griphook and Gornuk scowled right back, but Griphook was the first to look away, back at Harry, and reached out his hand.
“Then shake,” he said and Harry, gritting his teeth, did so, turning and shaking Gornuk’s as well. Then, any animosity left the pair's eyes in seconds and they sprung to their feet.
“Now, let’s begin!”
Inside the tent, Ron dug out a bottle of ink, a quill, and parchment and stretched the sheet over the ‘Riddle Timeline’ so that when Harry let the goblins in they wouldn’t see it, and wrote ‘Gringotts Heist’ big and bold at the top. Hermione shook her head and face palmed at his antics, but he only beamed over at her, claiming, “Hey, this is what worked to free you!”
“I have visited the Lestranges’ vault only once,” Griphook told them as Gornuk stood up to the parchment and began sketching out a layout of the deepest passageways inside the bank. “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’re guarded by a dragon,” said Draco, adding a sketch of the massive Ironbelly where it guarded a crosssection of ancient vaults. “A Ukrainian Ironbelly. Bit of a rematch for us, eh Potter?” He winked and Harry couldn’t help but grin.
“They’ll be curses on all the gold, no doubt, especially with someone as paranoid as my aunt,” he continued, sitting down on his bed. “Something like the gemino curse… Or something that burns your skin if you touch it… Dark stuff.”
“How are we gonna get in?” asked Ron. “We don’t have any of Bellatrix’s hairs, do we?”
“No, but we do have these,” Draco bent down beneath his bed and removed one of Ron’s Muggle jumpers, which they hadn’t seen in weeks.
“Hey!” he exclaimed. “I wondered where that went!”
Turning it inside out, Draco pulled two blonde hairs off of it.
“I knew we’d have to go to Gringotts eventually, so I managed to sneak up to my parents at the orchard and steal some of their hairs beneath the invisibility cloak. What do you think, Hermione, do we have enough Polyjuice for both?”
“Probably only just… but yes,” she said, removing the bottle of mud-like liquid Draco had made back in London weeks ago.
Gornuk departed briefly while they were in the middle of discussing the wizard security and defenses they’d encounter and returned by supper with two rabbits in his hands, with Ron practically drooling at the sight of.
As Hermione got busy cooking up the rabbit meat the Quartet were forced to listen to the goblin’s laughing together at plans to fight this wizard security, and more and more were forced to realize they were working with a pair of very blood thirsty people, but neither commented on it, Harry’s brain echoing every time he hit the pillows for a nights rest with a stomach full of rabbit or deer meat it’s for the greater good.
He couldn’t shake that he did like the idea of these people reaching equality all the same, especially as he realized with each passing day this animosity was only due to years of discrimination and prejudice.
Besides, if nothing else Gornuk was a great hunter and for once they were all getting well fed every day, which meant the Quartet made it through a full week of no fighting, which Harry considered to be a new, very impressive, record.
-*-*-*-
Saturday, February 8tb
All things considered, the Quartet was feeling pretty confident the morning of their heist as they emerged from the tent, Griphook and Gornuk waiting, their mode of transportation from the woods to Diagon Alley via side-along apparition.
Harry did feel a little queasy, he had to admit, but they needed this success after the disaster that was Godric’s Hollow. They needed a Horcrux. So, instead, he swallowed down the butterflies in his stomach and turned when the tent flap opened to reveal Draco and Hermione stepping out.
Or, rather, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy.
Ron snorted into his fist at the uncomfortable looks on their best friends’ faces and Harry grinned.
“Shut up,” Draco growled out of his father’s mouth, then scoffed and waved a lock of hair out of his face. “I don’t know how he does this!” he exclaimed and Hermione giggled beside him.
“All that’s missing is the cane,” she said, and she was right. She’d managed to transfigure her clothes to look just as regal and formal as anything a pure Malfoy would wear proudly, the only thing not matching being the rucksack thrown over her shoulder which she was just stuffing the tent inside. Draco and Ron stood in their dress robes from Slughorn’s Christmas Party, which they had packed in case any other such formal event arose at Hogwarts (their original target destination during the flight from Grimmauld Place) transfigured now to fit the more adult and gothic tone of the Death Eaters.
“Oh, and just so you all know Narcissa tasted quite lovely.” Hermione and her fellow Gryffindors laughed, Hermione tossing the rucksack over to Harry (which protested with a bark in response) while Draco flushed a bright scarlet and rolled his eyes.
“Alright enough talking about how my parents taste -” he stuck his tongue out which only made them laugh more at the very un-Lucius expression, “- Ron get over here, and make sure to make him extra ugly Hermione.”
Scowling, Ron trudged forwards and Hermione stepped up to him, lifting Draco’s wand and starting to transfigure him with a short, pointed beard, a shorter nose, and deep brunette hair. He was to acquire a completely made up identity, as Harry and the goblin’s were already a bit much to fit under the cloak and they didn’t need the gangly Ron Weasley added to it. They simply had to trust that the Malfoy’s still held a crumb of nobility these days and would get them through the doors.
“There,” said Hermione, “how does he look, Harry?”
Harry squinted at the admittedly very ugly-fied Ron and shrugged. “Well, he’s not my type, but he’ll do. Shall we go, then?”
The group crowded around the goblins and they raised their arms for them to hold onto. They did, and each of the Quartet got one last glimpse of each other’s eyes (Draco’s colder and harder in Lucius Malfoy’s face and Hermione no longer brown but a sapphire blue) before they were spinning like tops and disappeared with a loud crack.
They arrived in a dark alley of Charing Cross Road. It was morning, but Muggles still bustled about before them, ever busy and ever not paying attention as a group of absurdly dressed people strode forwards, shielding Harry and the goblins as they climbed up onto his back, Griphook sat on his shoulders and Gornuk in a more piggy-back position, which was comfortable for no one, but hopefully they wouldn’t have to stay like this for more than half an hour.
Hermione turned and threw the Invisibility Cloak over the three of them, and bent down and looked around to make sure every inch was covered. Stepping back she said, “Perfect, I can’t see a thing,” and turned back to the road.
“Take my arm,” Draco muttered to her and she rolled her eyes at his raised arm but grabbed it anyway, hating every second as she and Draco strode forwards, heads held high like proper prejudice purebloods, Ron following behind, head low.
Inside, the Leaky Cauldron felt as barren as the Hog’s Head. Tom, the barman, looked over and, seeing the Malfoys’ entrance, immediately placed down his glasses and turned to face them fully. Any conversation inside came to a quick halt.
“Mr and Mrs. Malfoy,” he murmured, inclining his head and Hermione said, “Good morning,” to which Draco barely hid his look of horror and instead covered it up quickly.
“I don’t know, Narcissa, there doesn’t seem to be much good about it. Business slow today, Tom?”
The barman scowled at him. “A bit…”
“Pity… Well I won’t waste anymore of the time you could be using gathering customers. Come along now, Narcissa,” he said and tugged Hermione forwards towards the brick wall, whispering, “You almost blew it. At least wait until we’re at Gringotts to ruin this.”
“Okay, okay!” she said, drawing out his own wand and tapping it on a brick on the wall before them. All the bricks suddenly began to whirl and spin, a hole appearing in the middle and growing wider until it formed an archway to Diagon Alley.
It was somehow quieter here than it had been at the beginning of the year, almost all the shops boarded up, but street vendors propped up though not open at this time in the morning, advertising Dark Arts objects.
And then there were the posters plastered almost everywhere you look, with Harry’s own face front and center above the words UNDESIRABLE NUMBER ONE. He squinted and saw a ten thousand galleon price on his head. But there were also posters with Draco’s face, and he knew this had more to do with the wand than the boy of course, as these posters promised an eight thousand galleon reward for UNDESIRABLE NUMBER TWO.
Ragged, homeless people crouched in alleys and doorways and, when they saw the Malfoy’s pass, glared, but otherwise to any other passerby they outstretched their hands and pleaded for gold, swearing that they were real and true wizards or witches.
They continued forward towards the imposing marble form of Gringotts towered above the shops bordering it, blanketed with snow. Wizards and witches continued to part to make way for the Malfoy’s and the mysterious man following them, and, so far, they perceived no threats.
At the bronze doors to the bank, two wizards flanked it just as Griphook had warned, clutching long and thin goldenrods. Probity Probes, meant to detect spells of concealment and hidden magical objects. Hermione removed Draco’s wand from her pocket as they approached and whispered, “Confundo,” twice, before holding out the wand for the wizard’s, as if that had been her intention all along. Each guard gave a start as the spells zapped them.
Draco and Hermione stepped forward, Hermione tilting her head so that her mane of brilliant blonde hair flipped and caught the light, the guards startling.
“One moment, sir, madam,” said the guard on Draco’s side, raising his probe and Draco scowled at him, affronted.
“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded, sneering.
“You already did that!” Hermione snapped.
The guard stared at the rod, confused, and his companion said, voice dazed similar to Luna Lovegood’s, “Yeah, you’ve just checked them, Marius.”
With that the group trudged forwards, Harry chancing a glance behind them before the doors slammed shut to see the guards looking at each other, and shrugging their shoulders in confusion.
Inside, Harry’s eyes found the poem warning all thieves to stay away and felt a little sick, much like he had inside the Ministry; that they were just a group of teenagers trying to take on far too much.
“Like I said, yeh’d be mad ter try an’ rob it.”
Shaking off Hagrid’s words Harry continued forwards after his friends as they strode down the long counters manned by goblins sitting on high stools. Draco tugged Hermione forwards towards a goblin a couple seats down, Ron following close behind.
“Mr. Malfoy!” greeted the goblin, startled but looking pleased to see him. Harry recalled Mr. Borgin from four years ago and the way he’d hoped to make money off of the terribly rich man. “And lovely Narcissa too,” Hermione inclined her head with a soft smile and Draco cleanly stepped on her toe, indicating she was being too nice. She switched to eyeing the walls of the marble fortress with her pointed nose stuck up in the air, instead. The goblin winced at her actions, but turned back to Draco. “How may I help you this morning?”
“We are looking to enter my sister-in-laws vault, Bogrod.” said Draco, who’d chosen this goblin in particular because it was the only one whose name he remembered.
“Do you have her key?”
“Why would I need her key?” said Hermione, stepping forward and flicking her wand, hidden from goblins around them who may be watching by the ruffles of her cloak. She whispered “Imperio,” and the next moment the goblin, Bogrod, was smiling down at her.
“Why would you indeed, Mrs. Malfoy?” He bent backwards in his chair and snapped his fingers at something. The next moment a younger looking goblin arrived.
“I shall need the Clankers,” he told him and the goblin dashed away. Harry knew, from what Draco had told them of the dragon guarding the vaults, that the Clankers were used to calm it, as it was trained to expect pain with the noise. Truly a barbaric notion, as Hermione had been quick to point out.
“Good, good,” Bogrod exclaimed as the goblin returned with a leather bag full of jangling metal. “Now, if you will follow me, Mr and Mrs. Malfoy, I shall take you to your vault.” With that he hopped off his stool and vanished from sight.
“Wait - Bogrod!”
Another goblin was running from her counter, slowing to a stop to hurriedly dip down in a bow to the Malfoys. “We have instructions, forgive me,” She turned and whispered to Bogrod, “He have special orders regarding the vault of Lestrange.” The Imperiused goblin shook him off.
“I am aware of the instruction but Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy here wish to see the vault… Very old family… old clients… This way, please…”
The group passed through a door leading off the hall, and the moment they slammed shut behind them, Harry slid off the cloak and the goblins jumped down from his shoulders.
“We’re in trouble,” the Quartet chorused together, meeting each other’s gazes worriedly.
“I cursed him,” Hermione said, and as she eyed Bogrod, who was staring around him, looking blank and dazed. “Imperius Curse. I don’t know how well I did it…”
“It’ll be okay, honestly,” Draco leaned close, whispering playfully in her ear, “For being an Unforgivable, it’s kind of easy.” She gave him a relieved smile, and the group continued on down the stone passageway lit with flaming torches, Draco and the goblins leading the way.
“We’ll need Bogrod to control the cart!” Gornuk called back to them. “We’ll have to take two, there’s only room for five.”
Harry looked around at the group of seven and heard Draco sigh heavily, dropping a hand over his face.
“Alright, I’ll go with Gornuk separately.”
“No, Draco -”
“Hermione, what else do you suggest? I’ll be able to go back in there and ask for another goblin’s help. I’ll be fine.” She stayed silent and climbed into the cart beside Ron, leaning her head against his, which was quite a sight, Narcissa Malfoy leaned against a transfigured Ron, but perhaps weirder, Harry stretched out his hand to Lucius’ and squeezed it.
“I’ll be okay,” Draco promised, before stepping back and waving them off.
“Stay out of sight,” he told Gornuk, who had stayed behind, and the goblin scowled up at him but hid behind a rock as he rapped on the heavy doors. They creaked open after a minute, and he glared down at the goblin who stood in their wake.
“Your subordinate has just flown that cart off with my wife!” He shouted, making sure to draw a fair amount of attention from the goblins in the marble room so as to pressure this one into agreeing with him. “I suggest you come and take me to the Lestrange vault right now, before I decide to call some friends.”
The goblin turned pale white with fear and hurriedly scampered forwards towards the next awaiting cart. “Of course, Sir, of course.”
As soon as the doors slammed shut Gonuk tackled him from behind the rock and Draco smirked, impressed he’d caught onto the plan so quickly.
“What in the name of - Mr. Malfoy, HELP!” The goblin cried as he scuffled with Gornuk but Draco strode forward and knelt before him.
“No, no, I think you’ll be just fine. Take it as payment for all the trouble you’ve dealt a Malfoy this morning,” he said, then nodded to Gornuk to let him go and, shivering under Lucius Malfoy’s gaze, he whistled weakly.
The party of three journeyed down into the dark below, gathering speed as it fell down, down, twisting and turning through a dark labyrinth. Now Draco positively despised his father’s hair as it whipped into his face uncontrollably and Gornuk chuckled at him while he fought with it. His mind wasn’t only on the hair though. He was thinking of how foolish it now seemed, in retrospect, to gain further attention from the goblins.
If they hadn’t already alerted the Ministry that the Malfoy’s were suspiciously avoiding security protocols in getting into the Lestrange vault, then they certainly would now. And what would that mean for his parents? He had to make sure they saw his face before they escaped, or they could get punished - Just the thought of it made him sick, a feeling starkly similar to how he felt day in and day out last year.
Suddenly, they took a hairpin bend that jolted Draco in his seat, and Gornuk from his relaxed pose as he sprung from his seat entirely, shouting out, “No!” but there was no way to brake, they zoomed straight through and Draco felt as if he was drowning, water filling his eyes and mouth. Then, with a second lurch, the car flipped and the three fell straight out of it, down, down, down to the abyss below, Draco howling in fear as he thought, surely, this was the end. He scrambled for his wand but couldn’t reach it and even then he can’t cast a spell because he’s only a child and he was always just a boy and his parents are going to die because of him -
Then he heard a girl’s shrill scream and instead was floated to the ground peacefully, where he panted weakly to catch him breath, turning over and looking on with horror as Hermione crouched to check him for injuries, no longer sporting his mother’s looks but instead looking herself in Ron’s overlarge jumper and jeans. He looked around and saw Ron too looked himself, all the transfiguring done to his dress robes gone. Looking down at himself, he saw that he was wearing his own silver suit with a matching cape he’d worn to Slughorn’s Christmas Party.
“The Thief’s Downfall! They’ve set off defenses against us, we have to move!” Griphook exclaimed, and Draco saw that he, along with everyone around him, were sopping wet. Scowling he began to wring out his hair.
“Imperio!” Hermione cried at the goblin they’d dragged down here who was making a run for it, though there was really nowhere to go this far down. Instantly, he turned and walked back towards, looking as dazed as Bogrod did; they must have replaced the curse on him too.
“Let’s go,” Harry grunted and the group trudged forward, feeling absurd in their sopping wet clothes and childish dress robes.
“I think I can hear people coming - wait - Protego!” Her spell flew up to the fast flowing waterfall and blocked its flow.
“Good thinking,” Harry nodded to her then to Griphook and Gornuk. “Lead the way, you two.”
“How are we going to get out again?” Ron asked, squeezing out his robe.
“We’ll cross that cart ride when we get there,” Draco said, patting his shoulder. A darkness had fallen over his face as they moved further down the stone passageway, because he knew the dragon was coming, he could hear the clank of metal, getting louder with each step.
When they turned around, despite prepping for a week the Gryffindor trio stared up with gaping mouths at the gigantic dragon, Draco frowning, having seen it every time he traveled down to his vault with his father.
The beast was standing guard at five passages to five different vaults, each bearing a plaque reading out their name. ‘Malfoy’ stood alongside ‘Lestrange’ in gleaming gold, and Harry could see, even from a distance, just how much larger these vaults were than any others he’d seen in his couple of visits to the bank. He looked back at the dragon, something he didn’t want to really examine, and saw pale and flaky scales with milky pink eyes. Their rear legs bore heavy cuffs with chains leading to pegs driven into the floor, and he knew, from experience with such dragon’s, that those great wings would’ve filled the whole chamber if they weren’t folded close to their body.
The dragon released a mighty roar when they entered, spatting fire at them the group was quick to dodge away.
“It is partially blind,” said Griphook, “but even more savage for that. However, we have the means to control it. It has learned what to expect when the Clankers come. Give them to me.”
Ron passed over the bag and he removed a number of small metal instruments which, when shaken, made a loud ringing noise. Harry swore he heard whimpering inside his rucksack when he received his, and made sure not to shake them as viciously as the others around him, muttering, “Sorry, Prongs.”
As they headed towards the passageway marked ‘Lestrange,’ Harry couldn’t help but take notice of the way the dragon retreated, trembling, and for the first time felt sorry for dragons, which had terrified him so much in Fourth Year. He could tell, from the look of pity scrunching Draco’s features, he felt the same.
“Bogrod has to press his hand on the door to open it!” Gornuk called as the goblins moved through the group to stand at the front once more. Hermione flicked Draco’s wand and the goblin obediently pressed his palm to the wood. The door melted away as if like butter in heat to reveal a massive, cavelike structure packed floor to ceiling with galleon, sickles, knuts. Goblets, jewelry, silver and gold armor, the skins of strange creatures… Any and all manner of magnificent junk.
Frankly, it brought back memories of the Room of Hidden Things to Draco, who called out, “Search quickly but remember to not touch a thing!” to his friends before stepping in, keeping images of the locket, the ring, and the cup at the forefront of his brain, Harry doing the same. They had explained to Ron and Hermione in detail what each looked like (the ring in more detail than most as that had been what plunged them into discovering the Deathly Hallows) but no one could be sure they’d still know what to look for.
The door suddenly reappeared, sealing them in, and plunging them into darkness. Ron shouted in surprise but Griphook snapped, “No matter, Bogrod will be able to release us! Light your wands, can’t you?” And hurry, we have little time!”
“Lumos!”
“Harry!” Illuminated by his wand tip, Hermione scowled at him as she too lit Draco’s wand. “The Trace!”
“We’re already gonna get caught, Hermione!” he snapped back, turning and beginning to shine the light of his wand on the gold. “No use worrying about the Ministry now! Anyway, best to stay still. We might stumble on something in the dark.”
It was true; the glittering jewels and coins spilled out across the floor, and if they weren’t careful, would surely drown them in burning hot gold within minutes.
Suddenly Harry’s elbow brushed up against a pile of Galleons and he howled; they’d burned right through his sleeve and into his shoulder, which he gripped in pain as the Galleons scattered across the floor, duplicating continuously. He swore loudly and could hear his friends doing the same as the coins hit their feet and burned them but continued to duplicate.
Sweating from the heat of the coins, Harry looked around worriedly and, nearly sighing with relief, found it.
“It’s there, it’s up there!”
Sure enough, when Draco followed his boyfriend’s wandlight he saw that Hufflepuff’s Cup indeed sat up at the top of a ledge far out of their reach.
“Well how the hell are we going to get it from up there?!” Ron demanded, waving an arm then wincing as it smacked into a goblet that now began to duplicate like mad.
“Accio Cup!” Of course, the spell did nothing but aggravate both Griphook and Gornuk who shouted that they’d known this already.
“Hermione!” Hermione, who was pounding on her head and looking like she was struggling to think of a solve in a manner endearingly similar to how the venomous tantacula’s had stumped her back in First Year, looked up in surprise at the call of her name, “My broom!”
“Of course,” digging into it she withdrew the Firebolt and tossed it to Harry, who quickly swung onto it and, being careful not to touch anything, rose into the air towards the cup, outstretching his wand to hook it onto one of the handles.
“Catch!” he called down, flicking the cup off the wand tip and down to Hermione, who bent backwards and caught it, wincing as it seared into her skin but she kept a tight grip even as countless other Hufflepuff Cups multiplied.
Harry turned the broom sharply and plunged down onto the ground, which was now beginning to fill with gold so high only the goblin’s heads were visible.
Hermione waved her wand and Bogrod slammed a hand upon the door, and with a cascade of constantly multiplying silver and gold the Quartet plus the goblins fell out of the vault and into the chamber.
A crowd was advancing out of the passageway which the group had come in, wizards holding up wands and goblins holding up daggers pointed at them.
“STOP!” the man at the head bellowed but far be it for this crew to stop when they’d already gotten this far.
“Stupefy!” The four kids bellowed, all hopping on board Harry’s no-sense train and firing spells despite the Trace, because the Ministry was clearly on the way anyway. As the lights of spells bounced around the chamber, however, the dragon released a rageful roar and a fish of flame flew over the goblins, the wizards falling or fleeing the way they came.
A strange, wild, idea came to Harry and, wheeling around to the thick cuffs chaining the dragon to the floor, yelled out, “Relashio!”
BANG!
The cuffs broke and fell to the floor, Harry bounding towards the blind dragon and shouting out, “This way!”
“Harry - Harry - what are you doing?” Hermione shrieked.
“Get up, climb up, come on -”
“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me!” Draco groaned but obliged along with the Gryffindors and goblins, scaling up the back of the dragon, digging their feet into the crook of their hind legs. The scales were hard as steel but cool so that the kids practically fell against the dragon’s skin, their burns pleading for cold.
The dragon then roared suddenly, and the Quartet plus the goblins clutched as tightly as they could as the wings opened, knocking over the shrieking goblins and any wizards left. The dragon lifted up its heavy body and soared into the air.
“We’ll never get out, it’s too big!” Hermione screamed but not a second later the dragon had set fire to the tunnel, the floor and ceiling cracking a crumbling. Neither Harry or Draco could call themselves surprised this massive beast was able to fight their way through the caverns by sheer force, even though they couldn’t see or barely hear it, as the heat and dust fell upon their shut eyes and the crash of rock paired with the dragon’s roar deafened them.
“Defodio!”
Hermione. She was helping enlarge the passageway so they could make it through, and Harry had to feel pride, briefly, that she was getting so much better at keeping her head in a struggle, especially compared to moments before when she was pounding her head to think of answers.
Now, Harry, Ron, and Draco were the ones following her lead, blasting the ceiling apart so that the dragon could move safer and faster towards fresher air.
And then, miraculously, with a great crash of marble and flush of bright light, the dragon exploded into the marble hallway, goblins and wizards alike screaming for cover, but finally the dragon had the room to stretch out their wings fully, and the kids could tell they could smell the fresh air beyond the doors. With another great push through the air the dragon flew out the metal doors, launching, finally, into the free and open air for the first time in who knows how long.
The crew stayed silent, not that anyone would be able to hear each other above the fast whipping wind, the whole journey, knowing not to aggravate the dragon as it soared over London, but the Quartet couldn’t deny (they had no clue what was going on with the goblins) that the flight gave them peace, or it was just the fact that they were so grateful to simply be alive right now, when, so deep underground, that hadn’t felt possible in the slightest.
Even if they had a strange way of showing it, as Ron was swearing at the top of his long, Hermione sobbing profusely into him, and Harry could hear Draco in his ear, promising to kill him in a variety of different, brutal ways once they - if ever - reached land.
Them ever reaching land felt like a very important problem to deal with as the minutes dragged on, and then there was the problem of Voldemort. Could he know, even now, they’d broken in? Or would Bellatrix value her position within the Death Eater ranks too much?
And then Harry realized how foolish it was for them to go to Gringotts to get their first Horcrux, because now, surely, Voldemort would know what they’d done, and heighten his security around all the other Horcruxes.
“What do you reckon it’s looking for?” Harry was wrenched from his thoughts when Ron started yelling coherent words instead of just swear words, and they all bent around the dragon’s back, as much as they could safely, to check their surroundings.
“No idea,” Harry bellowed back.
“What if he drops us in a -”
“SHUT UP!” Hermione shrieked and Draco winced but obeyed because she clearly was too distressed to think of bad ways for them to land. With that shriek Harry desperately tried to push all of the vile what if’s emerging into his brain back, though he, not for the first time, had to be jealous of Draco’s Occlumency abilities.
“Is it my imagination,” shouted Ron after several minutes, “or are we losing height?”
Harry looked down and saw that it indeed was not his best friend’s imagination, and those deep green mountains and lakes were growing closer and closer, the blue water turned copper in the setting sun. Was it really that late? Looking up he saw a sparkle of stars in the sky.
“I say we jump when they get low enough! Straight into the water before they realize we’re here!”
“Okay!” the others chorused, Hermione’s voice faint and the goblins grunting in response. At least they gave a response at all, though.
As soon as Harry caught sight of the dragon’s belly reflected in the copper water, he knew they were close enough. “NOW!”
He slipped down the dragon’s hind leg and plummeted feet first downwards, falling for much longer than he would have liked and realizing, nearly too late, that he’d meet a hard crash into water, which he, and his friends, indeed did. With six slaps the group plunged into freezing water, which he took no time remaining in, instead emerging with coughs and pants and looking around for his friends.
With calls of each other’s names they were able to confirm everyone was here, and Harry turned to look for the dragon, seeing they had landed on the nearest bank, oblivious to their lost passengers.
The lake wasn’t deep at all, so as they swam for the opposite shore they were instead simply tearing through reeds and mud, but eventually they collapsed against the slippery grass.
Wiping tears from her cheeks, though they were indiscernible from the lake water, Hermione rose and began waving her wand around them, wasting no time in casting the usual protective spells.
When she turned back around, she eyed Ron and breathed his name in a sort of sigh of relief, dropping to her knees beside him and opening up his robes to reach his burns. Harry looked around and saw that his friends were all looking the worse for wear he’d ever seen them, their once magnificent robes now torn and singed, not to mention drenched in muddy water, hair bedraggled. Hermione wasted no time in opening up his rucksack, letting Prongs out to be free, barking like mad and bolting straight onto Harry’s chest, licking at his burns, and removing the bottle of dittany, dabbing Ron’s injuries.
She treated all of their burns then pulled out clean jumpers and jeans for them all, tossing them around to everyone, who gladly changed, shivering in the night’s cold February air.
“Well, on the upside,” said Ron a few minutes later, eyeing the skin on his hands as it stretched back together. “We got the cup!”
“Yes, trust me, I know,” Hermione grunted, currently placing more dittany on her hand that had been holding the Horcrux which was now nearly burnt to the bone.
“Well,” they turned at the sound of Griphook’s voice, seeing the two goblins standing behind them, soaked and muddy but not seeming to mind. “If you have what you need I suggest you get along with using that sword, Harry Potter. Gornuk and I do not desire to stick around any longer than we have to.”
“What? No, I don’t have it with me,” Harry paled, and could feel his friends’ anxiety all around them. None of them had suspected that he would be so foolish as to not include this little detail, but how could he? It was for the greater good, right?
“You what?!” Gornuk grunted but Griphook held him back, even though he was glaring with just as much intensity.
“I never specified that I did -”
“You said,” Griphook spoke in a dark but calm manner that sent shivers down all their spines. “That Dumbledore entrusted the sword to you in his will -”
“I never said I had it on me,” Harry stood, brushing off his knees, confident that his deal was air tight and whatever code the goblins followed would have to obey it. “The Ministry refused to give it to me.” Though, now he supposed even if they did he would have gotten the fake, but the goblins didn’t need to know that.
“You liar!” Gornuk shouted in indignation. “Thief! Scoundrel! I knew we shouldn’t have trusted you!”
“I’m no thief,” Harry said, “You-Know-Who stole the cup from Hepzibah Smith years ago, I’m merely taking it to destroy it and help put an end to his life. Remember you said he has little love for you goblins.” He threw his hands up in the air, turning to gather up his sodden clothes. “Do with that what you will, but I promise you if you leave now I’ll find you and give you the sword. We’ve been looking for it for a month now. I said I’d give it to you once we’d used it, and I intend to keep that promise.”
The pair of angry goblins glanced at each other, torn by Harry’s words, and seemed to be debating with their eyes for a moment before Griphook let go of Gornuk and stepped forward, pointing a finger up in Harry’s face.
“We’ll be watching you, Harry Potter, to see that you keep your word. But if you intend to keep a sword not rightfully yours a moment longer than you promised -”
“I’ll find much more than treasure there,” Harry said with a wink. “Yeah, I get it.”
The goblins glared at each of the Quartet in turn, even Prongs, who barked back, before turning and trudging up over the bank and out of sight.
“What’ll happen to them, do you think?” They turned to Hermione, who was not watching the goblins go, but staring at the Ukrainian Ironbelly across the lake. “Will they be alright?”
“You sound like Hagrid,” said Ron, “It’s a dragon, Hermione, it can look after itself. It’s us we need to worry about.”
She looked back at him, confused, and he scoffed. “C’mon, ‘Mione! And I thought I was thick… I don’t know how to break this to you, but I think they might have noticed we broke into Gringotts.”
Unprompted, the four of them started to laugh, and once they started it became very difficult to stop. They’d had moments of laughter on full bellies, but now, on the high of so much stress of such a narrowly pulled off heist, they collapsed against the grass and laughed until it was painful, but still they laughed some more. Because not only was the joke hilarious and their lives something they never cherished more than this moment, but they had a Horcrux! Harry could feel its dark presence just beside him, similar to what he’d felt within the old woman before Nagini emerged. For once, it seemed they were a step further down whatever path Dumbledore was guiding them towards.
“What are we going to do, though?” said Hermione a minute later. “He’ll know, won’t he? You-Know-Who will know we know about his Horcruxes!”
“Maybe they’ll be too scared to tell him! Maybe they’ll cover up -”
But as if on que Harry’s head exploded with pain and there he was standing in the dimly lit drawing room of Malfoy Manor, a semicircle of wizards before him, a goblin knelt on her knees at his feet.
“What did you say to me?” Voldemort demanded. “Say it again… Say it again!”
“M-my Lord, m- my Lord… we t-tried to st-stop them… Im-impostors, my Lord… broke - broke into the - into the Lestranges’ vault…”
“Imposters? What imposters? I thought Gringotts had ways of revealing imposters? Who were they?”
“It was… it was… the P-Potter b-boy and th-three accomplices…”
“Who were they?!” He knew it, he knew Potter wasn’t alone. The Granger girl hadn’t disappeared from Barty’s clutches as a mere coincidence.
“A-a girl and… t-two boys, my L-Lord… the Granger girl th-that e-escaped the M-Ministry and the…” Her eyes darted one way to the man that stood behind Voldemort and he knew, of course, what the answer was without her needing to say. “The Malfoy b-boy.”
A flash of green light and one of the windows shattered, glass cascading across the floor. The goblin winced.
“And they took?” his voice was rising, fear laced in his every word. Fear that they knew, somehow, but how could they? Dumbledore - But how could he? “Tell me! What did they take?”
“A… a s-small golden c-cup m-my Lord…”
With that he released a scream of rage and green light erupted through the entire room, Macnair’s wand slashing through the air, when it should’ve been his but the boy had it of course. He wheeled around to take aim at Bellatrix and Lucius behind him, punish them for the boy’s insolence and their failure to protect their Horcruxes - But they were already running, the cowards they were, throwing wizards behind them in a race for the door.
So instead, again, and again, his wand fell on those wizards and goblins too, until he was standing in the middle of a pool of traitors and fools, stomping back and forth, Nagini close at his heels.
The diary was destroyed, the cup stolen. But could he have found more? Could Dumbledore have led him to them? Dumbledore, dead, whose wand should’ve been in his grasp, but instead held tight by a mere boy. A boy he should’ve killed ten times over by now.
That didn’t matter right now. The Horcruxes, yes, were any others destroyed? Not possible. He, Lord Voldemort, the greatest wizard of all, more powerful than Dumbledore and Grindelwald’s might combined. He had to have known that his very soul had been violated, even if the diary had been destroyed, he had had no body to feel through at the time.
Yes, he was confident there were no other Horcruxes lost to him. He’d have to check. The lake, the shack, and Hogwarts -
But how could the boy know of the Gaunt family shack? He’d never told a soul, nor let one live who knew, of his relation to the Gaunts, and those killings could never be traced back to him. The ring had to be safe, and as for the cave… How could the boy, much less anyone else, have known of the cave or penetrated its protection? The locket could not have possibly been stolen. And that school, he’d locked away Ravenclaw’s pride in the depths of a secret only he was privy to.
That still left Nagini, but she’d nearly gotten all four of those brats in Godric’s Hollow, she was strong, he’d sought to that. And now he’d make sure she stayed close to him, under his protection.
But he had to be sure, so he’d go out now and search each of his hiding places. Redouble protection. He would visit the Gaunt shack, and take Nagini with him; they’d never part until Potter was dead.
He strode from the hall, not bothering to make sure Bellatrix and Lucius received just punishment - it never seemed to stop their foolishness…
Harry’s eyes flew open and he lurched forwards, almost ramming into Hermione, Ron, and Draco, who instantly fell backwards and raised their hands in a defensive position.
“Woah, slow down Harry!”
“He knows,” His voice shook along with the vicious shivering of his body. “He knows and he’s going to check where the others are but -” He grabbed Draco by the arms. “The lake! He hid one in the cave!”
“The cave?” Draco repeated and as the notion sunk in he grinned with realization. “That makes sense! That’s where he tortured his first victims…”
“And there’s another at the Gaunt house! And one at Hogwarts!”
“Four left…” Ron murmured, “Including Nagini.”
“But what did you see, Harry? How did he know we broke in?” Hermione asked, seemingly not staying on the thought of the whereabouts of the other Horcruxes for another moment.
“I saw him find out about the cup, I-I was in his head, he was really angry, and scared too, ‘cause he doesn’t know how we knew. He… Merlin, he killed them all,” he griped the side of his head but plunged on. “But he didn’t hurt your dad, Draco,” instantly, Draco slumped with relief.
“Let’s get going, then,” he said, standing and grabbing the rucksack.
“What? No! We can’t just go. We have to plan - we need to -”
“He’s right,” Harry cut her off, “Riddle’s securing all the protections right now. If we don’t leave now we might not be able to get a single other Horcrux.”
Hermione looked into each of their eyes helplessly. “I - I don’t -”
“Hermione,” Ron set a hand on her shoulders comfortingly, pulling her into a side hug. “I know you’re scared, we all are, but we can’t stop now. It’s like Harry said, every moment gives Riddle more opportunities. Besides,” he stepped back, half grinning. “We just robbed Gringotts and lived! You can’t ruin the fun now,” he shoved her playfully and she, thankfully laughed.
“Alright… Where do we start?”