The Tomb
‘Really, Sirius, you could have sent an owl. I must say this feels like an ambush -’
Sirius bared his teeth joylessly. ‘I did send an owl, I invited you round for dinner.’
‘Pfft, and can you blame me for not taking you up on that? After last time?’
Horace Slughorn ambled over to their table, settling heavily into the seat Sirius had left ready for him. Remus glanced up at the doorway, nodding to Aberforth, who returned the gesture and left, shutting the door behind him. They were in the back room at The Hog’s Head, shutters closed and candles lit. Remus shifted his seat slightly around the table in a feeble attempt to make the meeting feel less of an interrogation.
‘Kreacher is a good cook,’ Sirius shrugged, ‘I don’t know why you’d pass it up.’
‘I am very busy these days,’ Slughorn retorted, adjusting his waistcoat and accepting the glass of mead Sirius pushed towards him, ‘Albus has got me teaching again -’
‘So we heard,’ Remus said, causing Slughorn to look up at him abruptly, his brows furrowing slightly as he studied Remus’ face.
‘Oh come on!’ Sirius said suddenly, ‘Still? Remus Lupin. He was in your class for five years. Lots of scars?’ Sirius laughed harshly at the look of confusion on Slughorn's face. ‘Is a werewolf?’
Realisation dawned so visibly on Slughorn’s face, Remus laughed out loud. The old man shrank back slightly, drawing his hands into his lap and sitting up in his seat.
‘Relax Horace,’ Remus said, ‘Full moon’s just passed.’
Sirius rolled his eyes as Remus pulled Secrets of the Darkest Art from his bag and slapped it enthusiastically down on the table, causing Slughorn to recoil even further.
‘Right, now that the introductions are sorted: we have some questions.’
-
‘So what you’re saying,’ Remus spoke slowly, eyes moving across the page one more time before he looked up, ‘Is that an unsecured soul fragment might release itself from a vessel, if that vessel was no longer suitable?’
‘Theoretically, yes,’ Slughorn sighed, ‘But as I have said, again and again, this has never been done-’
‘That you know of.’
‘That anyone knows of, Sirius. There is a reason why the information on this kind of magic is so sparse. It is foul. It is evil. Most wizards that dared test it - if there have even been any - won’t have survived -’
‘It makes some sense though,’ Remus said, ‘The soul fragments - they can think for themselves. Think of the locket -’ he looked at Sirius, remembering the figure of Regulus, rising from it, ‘- it tried to survive, it fought back. That means that if -’
‘You would need somewhere for it to go,’ Slughorn said, ‘And to prepare a vessel is - it requires a heinous crime.’ He looked between them, ‘You do understand what I am saying?’
Remus glanced at Sirius once more. From the look on his face he could see that they both understood, possibly too well.
‘If we were going to make a vessel unsuitable,’ Sirius said, his eyes trained on Slughorn, ‘How would we do that?’
Slughorn sighed again, ‘I don’t know. It would depend on the vessel. You would have to damage it in some way - somehow bring it close to destruction…’
‘Do you know anything about this guy?’ Remus flicked through the pages of the book, turning it and pushing it under Slughorn’s nose, ‘Herpo the Foul?’
‘Very little,’ Slughorn replied with a shrug, ‘Not more than you’d find on a Chocolate Frog card.’
*
‘I’ve got them!’ Ron said, puffing his way across the pub and dropping a huge binder onto the wooden desk, ‘It’s not quite a complete set but it's a pretty impressive collection, I don't reckon anyone's got more -’
‘Awesome thanks,’ Sirius replied, pulling it towards him and flipping open the cover, ‘Oh cool, look Moons - Grunnion - the guy that invented the dungbomb. What a legend.’
‘What are you looking for anyway?’
‘Nothing,’ Sirius said, too quickly.
‘Nothing we won't find more about in a book,’ Remus corrected, smiling tightly as he took the stack of volumes Harry had pulled out of his bag. ‘Thanks,’ he said, flipping open the dusty cover of the first one and scanning the index.
‘I had to get McGonagall to sign a slip for those,’ Hermione chipped in, looking suspiciously at him over Harry's shoulder. ‘She definitely knew they were for you. Didn't Dumbledore give you permission to use the library yourselves?’
‘I really appreciate it,’ Remus said, not answering the question and shoving the books into his own satchel, slotting them in around Secrets of the Darkest Art. Slughorn had left them half an hour before, barrelling out of the pub as fast as his stubby legs could carry him, but they had hung around, waiting for the books, and to see Harry, whilst avoiding the castle. And it's Headmaster.
‘Have you guys been in to see Professor Dumbledore?’ Harry asked, reading Remus’ mind. ‘He told me to ask you if he could have the sword back - wants me to get some sword fighting in or something.’
‘Sword fighting?’ Sirius asked, choking slightly on the words, ‘What on Earth -’
‘Dunno,’ Harry shrugged, ‘He just asked if he could borrow my cloak for a bit and then said could I ask you to drop the sword back into him, for training.’
Sirius let out a strange little laugh. ‘Ask him to ask us himself.’
Harry shrugged. ‘What would I even need a sword for anyway? Is Voldemort into sword fights or something? It's not like I’ve never used it before, I already killed the Basilisk with it and it's not like I had any training for that.’
Remus shuffled forward in his chair, leaning round Sirius to get a proper look at Harry.
‘Tell us about that again,’ he said.
‘About what? The sword?’
‘Yes,’ Remus said, nudging Sirius who was looking at him in confusion. ‘Go through it with me again, you had the sword in the Chamber - and you got it from…?’
‘From the hat,’ Harry said simply.
‘It was cool,’ Ron cut in eagerly, ‘I mean I didn’t see it or anything, I was trapped in the tunnel, but when he came back with my sister and this massive jewel-encrusted sword - yeah, it was wicked.’
‘The hat?’ Remus repeated, looking between the two boys.
‘Yeah, I was down there and things weren’t looking good, and then Fawkes showed up, with the Sorting Hat in his talons and I just sort of put it on, and then the sword clonked me on the head.’
‘The sword of Gryffindor?’ Sirius said, ‘Clonked you on the head?’
‘Yeah,’ Harry replied, ‘It was really heavy, it hurt quite a lot.’
‘How did it get in the hat?’ Remus asked, ‘Where was it before?’
‘Don’t know,’ Harry said, ‘Lost for centuries apparently, Dumbledore seemed to think I managed to somehow summon it by being -’ he hesitated and glanced at Ron, his cheeks colouring, ‘ - a true Gryffindor.’
Remus sat back in his chair. The seed of an idea beginning to sprout.
‘Well if that’s what Dumbledore said,’ Sirius said, rolling his eyes and then smiling unconvincingly in answer to Harry's curious glance.
‘Look,’ Ron said suddenly, ‘I like this one - Jocunda Sykes - flew across the Atlantic on a broomstick! Imagine that!’
*
‘So you reckon there’s something in there?’
They were back at Grimmauld Place after a long afternoon. Eventually the kids had headed off to dinner and Remus and Sirius had apparated home, setting their new books on the kitchen table, alongside all the others. Remus had found one that he thought had potential, the only problem being -
‘There might be, but it’s in Ancient Greek.’
Sirius sighed, and rubbed his eyes, ‘You’re really killing me here with these dead languages, Moons. I expect there’s a dictionary upstairs, but Ancient Greek, it’s a whole other alphabet.’
‘I know, I know,’ Remus said, sitting down at the table and laying the book in front of him, a cloud of dust rising as he opened the cover. ‘I wasn’t actually expecting you to do the translation -’ he hesitated, ‘I was thinking of -’
Sirius turned from the stove, kettle in one hand, ‘Ah -’ he said.
‘Would that be alright?’
‘Yeah of course,’ Sirius said quickly, turning back and lighting the stove with his wand, placing the kettle on top of it, ‘Of course. We need a translator, you know a translator.’
‘You know I don’t -’
‘I know, I know,’ Sirius said again, coming to sit opposite him, ‘That whole thing was dumb, it’s fine.’
‘OK, because she gave me her address - I could probably Floo, get her here now -’
Sirius hesitated for a moment, looking down at his own hands, before reaching out and taking Remus’ in his own. ‘Call her.’
Less than an hour later, Emmeline was sat at their kitchen table, the ancient book open in her hands.
‘Wow this is one freaky book,’ she said, eyes on the hand lettered page in front of her. ‘Some of this is -,’ she paused and looked up at Remus, ‘What did you say you need this for?’
‘We didn’t,’ Sirius said shortly.
‘It’s sort of need to know,’ Remus added, putting a mug of coffee down beside her, ‘You know how it is. What does it say?’
‘OK, well this is all about breeding a Basilisk,’ she began, running her finger quickly across the pages as she scanned them, ‘chicken egg, toad, massive dangerous snake. Assuming you guys aren’t trying to do that -’ she glanced up as she turned the page again, as if she wasn't convinced they weren't, ‘OK gimme a sec -’
Remus watched her reading for a few seconds and turned back to Sirius, who was in his usual place, bent over Regulus’ notes. Emmeline had been home when he called, and readily agreed to come to theirs to help. Sirius had rolled his eyes at the eagerness, but seemed to be managing so far.
‘So this guy was kind of intense,’ she said after a moment, ‘Really into souls. Driver of the body… essence of being… OK, erm, this is interesting,’ she scratched her head, ‘Preservation… it's talking about preservation of a damaged soul - I don’t really understand -’
‘Anything about how to preserve it?’ Remus urged, ‘How one might store it or contain it!’
Emmeline gave him a funny look and turned back to the book, turning another page, ‘Er, yeah it says that a properly prepared vessel… erm… something about the vessel being suitable? Or worthy? This word here means ‘precious, prized.’’
Remus glanced at Sirius. He still had his nose in the notebook, but Remus could tell from the way he was holding his head that he was listening.
‘So it is saying the object should be special? Or specially prepared?’
‘Both I think,’ she replied, ‘It is quite a tricky translation if I’m honest. It seems to be saying that the vessel needs to be something of note - but not clear in what way.’
‘Interesting.’ Remus said, leaning back on the bench for a moment, stretching his arms in front of him, ‘That is interesting, thanks.’
‘Remus,’ Emmeline said, ‘This stuff -’ she picked up the book and closed it, examining the spine, ‘This is not good stuff, I don’t know what Albus has asked you to do but -’
‘It’s OK,’ Remus replied, ‘It’s OK, we know.’
She looked at him for a long moment, her eyes filled with unasked questions. He looked down at the table, avoiding her gaze.
‘OK,’ she said, ‘Well, if you need anything else -’
‘Remus said you knew about tombs,’ Sirius looked up at her from the end of the table, ‘We’ve got one we need to track down -’
‘Oh, yes,’ Emmeline said, ‘Certainly, yes, I have access to records -’
Sirius nodded once, rising and moving up the table to lay the notebook before her.
‘We need to find this one.’
She scanned the notebook, ‘Yeah, sure,’ she said, ‘I can nip home and run a search on the inscription - it won't take a minute.
‘What are you hoping will be in there?’
‘Honestly?’ Sirius shook his head, ‘No idea.’
*
Forty-five minutes later, they were back in Godric’s Hollow, making their way down the narrow path to the churchyard.
‘I suppose it makes sense,’ Sirius huffed slightly, a cloud of breath appearing before him in the cold night air, ‘Looking for a tomb, why not try the graveyard we’re always hanging about in -’
‘Hey, come on,’ Remus said, placing a soothing hand in the centre of his back, ‘Let’s just see.’
Emmeline had disappeared through their Floo, and been gone less than half an hour before she’d returned, a map under her arm and a slip of parchment between her fingers with coordinates scribbled on it. They'd gathered their things and apparated straight there, wanting to make the most of the dying light, but the sun had almost set now, and long shadows splayed across the uneven ground, reaching towards them as they drew closer to the old gate. Remus shivered a little as they followed Emmeline, her wand light trained on her map.
‘It’s not far,’ she murmured, as they passed the church, heading for a row of stone tombs that rose out of the ground, silhouetted against the reddening sky, ‘One of these.’
They moved between them slowly, wands lit, pulling at years of moss, peeling them back from the inscriptions. An owl hooted, somewhere overhead and Remus turned, realising suddenly where he stood, at the top of a row of graves, only a hundred metres or so from where James and Lily lay.
‘Here!’ Emmeline called, her voice sudden in the quiet night, ‘It’s this one.’
She pulled at the curtain of ivy that concealed the stone lid, letting it fall softly to the ground, and stepped up onto the base to peer at the carving on top.
‘It’s goblin alright,’ she said, ‘My Gobbledegook isn't good but this is definitely -’
‘What’s this doing here?’ Sirius asked from the opposite side of the tomb, ‘Why would a goblin have Gryffindor’s coat of arms on it?’
‘You don’t know the story?’ Emmeline asked, as they shook their heads, ‘Oh - I assumed - but you were so good at History of Magic?’ She looked so disappointed, Remus felt strangely like he was being told off in class.
He tried to think back - History of Magic, Binn’s lecturing them for hours about Goblin rebellions - Peter next to him, snoring softly with his head on his arms. Sirius sitting beside James at the desk in front, whispering in his ear, the light from the high windows catching his dark hair -
‘My parents weren’t big on Gryffindor fairytales,’ Sirius chipped in, bluntly.
Emmeline sighed, ‘Ragnuk was King of the Goblins. The most skilled of them all - he fashioned Gryffindor's legendary sword. The coat of arms was here to tempt those who sought to steal it -’
‘It was here?’ Remus asked, climbing around the tomb to join them, ‘While it was lost?’
‘Maybe,’ Emmeline replied, ‘Running her hand lightly across the stone lion, ‘Gryffindor supposedly paid for it, but Goblin rules of possession don’t work the same way - Gryffindor defended it until he died but then -’ she shrugged.
‘But why put his shield on the tomb?’
‘To tempt those with ill intentions towards it, I suppose. I’d expect there’s some kind of curse -’
‘Who would have ill-intentions towards the Sword of Gryffindor?’ Sirius said, wrinkling his nose and Remus nudged him sharply with his elbow.
‘What, Moony?’ Sirius said, alarm flashing across his face as he took in Remus’ expression, lifting his wand and scanning the surrounding foliage, ‘What is it?’
‘Who might have ill intentions towards the sword of Gryffindor,’ he repeated, raising his eyebrows as his hand found Sirius' upper arm. Sirius’ eyes went round.
‘Where’s the notebook,’ Remus said, quickly, ‘What was that inscription he’d written? Next to the name of the tomb -’
Sirius pulled the book from his pocket, rifling through the pages, until he found the right one.
‘Here,’ he said, ‘It says ‘punishment comes limping’,’ he turned the book so Emmeline could see -
‘Yes,’ she took the book, peering at Regulus’ handwriting in the darkness, ‘literally, but it means more retribution comes slowly - as in no one can escape it - pede poena claudo -’
Sirius’ disgruntled look at having his Latin corrected vanished as huge scraping of stone echoed across the graveyard and the coat of arms that was mounted on the wall of the tomb began to move. Remus stepped back, his hand still on Sirius’ arm as the huge carving swivelled and swung open, hanging precariously on invisible hinges. Emmeline took half a step towards it, pushing the notebook into Sirius’ hands and raising her wand, shining the light through the opening, revealing a stone staircase disappearing downwards.
‘It's a crypt,’ she breathed.
‘Do we - do we go in?’ Sirius whispered.
‘No,’ she said, firmly, wand out, ‘Never enter an unknown tomb. Not when you don't know what kind of curses you're working with. You two stand back - further - go on -’
Remus pulled Sirius back a few steps, and Emmeline nodded at them, raising her wand and beginning to murmur spells under her breath. Sirius watched her for a moment before turning to Remus, ‘Were you saying what I think you were saying? Just then? About the sword?’
‘I mean, maybe?’ Remus replied, ‘All the other Horcruxes have been these legendary objects - and we did wonder why it was all the other -’
‘Not the diary though,’ Sirius reminded him.
‘No, but he did that one when he was at school, maybe that was kind of a practice - just something he had nearby? Or something special enough to him -’
‘Hm, maybe -’
‘He did all the others - what if - what if -’
‘You think he was looking for it here?’
‘Why else would Reg have this place written down? What other ritual could he have been talking about?’
‘But Harry said it was lost - you think they found it here?’
‘Maybe. He said it appears and disappears - maybe -’
‘But we would know, if it was a Horcrux, wouldn’t we? Or it would’ve been destroyed by the Basilisk venom -’
‘I don’t know. I don’t know - I need to think about this -’
They were interrupted by a roaring noise emerging from the crypt, bouncing off the headstones. Remus whipped round, finding Emmeline looking back towards them, gesturing towards the open door.
‘Here we go,’ she called, ‘Guys - maybe you should -’
‘Who dares disturb the eternal sleep of Ragnuk, King of the Goblins!?’ the voice filled the graveyard, and they turned, finding a pale translucent figure, looming intimidatingly over Emmeline, who was still looking at them, eyebrows raised.
‘Is that - a ghost?’ Sirius asked, hurrying back towards the tomb, Remus close behind him.
‘More wand-carrying thieves, come in pursuit of my treasure!’’
‘We haven't -’ Sirius was saying as Remus reached him, ‘We’re not -’
The ghost rose a couple of feet, leering over them intimidatingly, seeming to double in size as he bared his teeth.
‘Lies! Wizard scum. I shall bring a terrible curse upon you -’
‘Before you do that,’ Emmeline said, stepping in front of them,, ‘We actually just had a few questions, if you wouldn't mind,’ she waved her wand casually as if she dealt with violent spirits dragged from their slumber every other day. Ragnuk hesitated for a moment, as if taken aback by her nonchalance.
‘We’re not here for the sword,’ Remus said, tentatively, raising one hand in surrender and using the other to push Emmeline’s wand arm gently downwards, ‘It’s - uh - it's not actually here, anyway, is it?’
Ragnuk eyed them suspiciously.
‘If you do not seek the sword, then why have you disturbed me?’
‘Uh - yes, sorry about that. We didn’t actually mean to,’ Remus said, ‘We just - since you're here - we were wondering if -’
‘Spit it out wizard,’ Ragnuk replied, folding his ghostly arms and narrowing his eyes.
‘Have other people come looking for it then?’ Sirius took over, stepping forward and crossing his own arms. ‘“More wand-carriers” you just said, so have others tried?’
Ragnuk puffed out his cheeks and began to inflate, rising above them, his face contorted with fury. ‘You try to trick me with your questions! Avaricious wand-carriers with bad intentions, always motivated by entitlement, by lack of respect. Deserving only of my wrath -’
‘So that's a yes then? Someone came and managed to take it?’
‘Look, uh - Ragnuk, King Ragnuk -’ Remus glanced at Emmeline who was now leaning casually on a nearby headstone, watching them with interest. ‘If the sword isn’t here, we can’t steal it from you, so - we really would just like to know -’
‘You want to know who took it so you can take it from them!’ Ragnuk growled, his eyes filled with rage.
‘We - no -’ Remus flailed, ‘No that’s not it at all - we just -’
‘Maybe if we found it, we could get it back for you,’ Sirius shrugged.
Ragnuk hesitated, eyeing Sirius up, mistrust clear on his face.
‘Why should I believe you?’ he asked.
‘What have you got to lose?’ Sirius replied, shrugging slightly. ‘Unless you can leave here - go find it yourself?’
Ragnuk’s face fell, and he shook his head. He began to deflate slowly, shrinking back to his original size, and floating gradually back towards the ground.
‘I can never leave this place,’ he said, mournfully, ‘I am tethered to it, for eternity.’
‘So let us help you,’ Sirius said softly, ‘Tell us what you know and maybe we can do something in return -’
Ragnuk sighed, and floated lower still, settling himself on the top of the open stone door.
‘The sword was here. For a time,’ he began, ‘Finally returned to its rightful resting place, protected by those who sought to sully it.’ He shook his head.
‘But it was taken?’ Remus prompted.
‘Many tried,’ he rasped, ‘And were seen off, cursed for their troubles,’ he chuckled nastily at the thought, ‘Until -’
Ragnuk paused and Remus opened his mouth again, desperate for the story to continue, but Sirius reached for him, fingers wrapping around his wrist.
‘Until - one night -’ Ragnuk paused, his pale eyes glinting in the moonlight, ‘- one night, wizards came.’
Sirius’ grip on his wrist tightened and Remus glanced across at him briefly, but his eyes were fixed on the ghost.
‘They were many. Masked, holding their wands. They attacked, and I was - I was powerless to stop them. Their leader stood back, waiting for his prize, and while they held me, one retrieved my sword, emerging from my sacred crypt, holding it triumphant above his head. He presented it to his master, who took it in one pale hand, and dismissed him and his colleagues with a wave of his wand. They disappeared -’ Ragnuk let out a great shuddering breath, eyes lingering on the patch of grass behind them, not far from where they had just waited by the church. ‘I thought that would be my chance,’ the ghost continued, ‘But I had not been released. All I could do was watch as he lifted the sword, bringing the blade to his own hand -’
‘What happened?’ Remus asked, unable to contain himself as the ghost paused again.
‘Ragnuk’s sword cannot be taken against its will,’ the ghost chuckled darkly, ‘It did not want to be taken, and so it chose to protect itself. I felt its turmoil as the wizard’s blood touched its blade and it vanished from his hand. In his shock, he released the hold on me and I fled, sealing my tomb as he hammered on the stone above my head. But the sword did not hide itself here,’ he gestured vaguely beneath his feet, ‘Whatever he did to it - it made it unable to rest here, with me. I have called to it constantly over the years, but alas, it does not return.’
‘So you think it could?’ Remus asked, ‘If it wanted to?’
‘The sword has the power to present itself wherever it chooses. To whoever it deems most worthy. If it does not come to me, I can only assume it has work to do.’
‘You might be right,’ Sirius said quietly, ‘You might be right about that.’
Raguk looked up, eyes filled with distrust once more. He opened his mouth -
‘You guys done here?’ Emmeline asked from behind them, where she was waiting, perched casually on top of a neighbouring headstone.
‘Uh, yeah I think so,’ he said, glancing nervously back at the ghost, who still hovered, expectantly at the mouth of the tomb.
‘Ok, fab,’ she said, ‘Thanks for that Ragnuk, we might drop by again if we need to, might not,’ she nodded at him curtly and turned away, ‘Come on then.’
‘Do we - do we just leave him,’ Remus asked as they hurried after her, catching back up just by the church and glancing back at the pearly figure who still hovered by his tomb.
‘Yeah, he'll be alright,’ she said, ‘Most of the time they just want to tell their story y’know? But it's always best to leave before they get bored and start firing curses around. Do you reckon you got what you needed?’
‘Um, yeah. Maybe.’ Remus glanced at Sirius again, whose forehead was wrinkled with thought. ‘Yeah, that was actually great, thanks Em. I think -’
‘I’ll leave you two to it,’ she said, reaching a hand out and squeezing Remus’ shoulder. ‘Call me anytime. Try not to get into too much trouble.’
She continued up the path, and through the gate and with a loud crack, was gone. They followed the same route she had taken, continuing up the road a little, into the village square. Pausing opposite the statue of their friends.
‘That was all really weird,’ Sirius said, pushing his hand into Remus’ coat pocket and threading their fingers together, ‘Are we thinking -’
‘It just seems like - it seems like the sword is what Reg was referring to. There’s nothing else in that tomb, and you heard what Em said - the crest was there to lure wizards who were looking for it. You heard what Ragnuk said: tall creepy wizard, minions in masks. Sounds like he started the process and then the sword escaped, tried to save itself.’
‘And that’s what Reggie meant? About it being unsuccessful?’
‘Maybe. Maybe he prepared his vessel but there wasn’t time to do the Horcrux spell - He would have been very angry -’
‘The snake was a weird choice,’ Sirius added, ‘Even Dumbledore said that, right? Thought that a living creature was a big risk? So maybe it wasn’t the original plan.’
‘We know he was looking for it,’ Remus said. ‘And if he'd found it and made it a Horcrux then it would have been destroyed when Harry soaked it in Basilisk venom. But what if -’ he turned to look at Sirius, his eyes bright, ‘What if he found it, prepared it, and then it escaped - to wherever it was before it returned to Harry. It could have taken itself off somewhere after he killed the Basilisk, but it didn’t. It stuck around. What if we have an alternative vessel, ready and waiting?’
‘How sure are you?’ Sirius said, his voice so quiet, Remus only just caught the words.
‘Not even a little bit,’ he replied.