3,158Chapter 59: Animal Instinct
A/N: Mild gore warning. Contains a graphic death scene.
Monday, 14th August 1995.
Sirius worked his way deeper into the alley, Remus fighting away at his side, just like old times.
It would have almost felt a relief to be back in something so naturally familiar were it not for two things. The first was the fact that lives were in imminent danger. Death Eaters were not mere pushovers. The reason their first reign of terror had been so successful was that they were quite good at what they did. Appearing from nowhere and causing chaos and death with precise spells and vanishing before a proper response could be mounted.
But it was the second that concerned Sirius more. The moment that Harry had spoken, he knew that there was no stopping what came next. The boy was too much like his parents not to step in to protect innocents. Sure, James had done his fair share of malicious cursing at Hogwarts as a teenager, but when they had joined the war, those two had saved more lives than any other he knew. And Harry was certainly a chip off that old block.
Sirius could see him from where he was pushing deeper into the alley. Popping here and there and blasting spells out of the air long before they could threaten their targets. If James could see him now, he would beg forgiveness for ever doubting the wonders of his boy gaining elven magic.
Both children were like a whirlwind, moving up and down, tracking their foes and those they sought to protect by the feel of their magic. Leading their targets exactly as Remus and Sirius had trained them. If it weren't for the inherent danger, Sirius would have kicked back and simply watched in prideful awe at their handiwork.
Unfortunately, the danger was far too great for that. Dumbledore was somewhere behind Sirius right now engaging Rookwood, Dolohov and Travers. Keeping three of the biggest threats out here focused on himself. At first, Sirius had thought he might have misjudged just how old the man had become. He seemed to constantly be on the back foot against the three younger men.
Until he saw Albus deflect yet another spell into one of the other Death Eaters. And it dawned on Sirius that it was all a ruse.
Dumbledore was keeping their attention focused on himself by pretending to be one mistake away from succumbing to their multiple attacks. The trio were too busy celebrating that they had the old man on the ropes to realise they were being successfully baited by a master. The occasional spell had been allowed to nick the old man's clothing, leaving it looking somewhat tattered, but Sirius now realized that not a single spell had actually contacted Dumbledore's flesh.
Meaning that three of the worst dangers on the field were neutralized so long as Dumbledore had their attention.
Sirius took down an unfamiliar face hard, internally cheering as the silver mask whomped into the ground face first, the face inside likely breaking something as it impacted the surface at speed. Remus had moved a little further away as he pinned two more down in a small alcove beside Ollivanders, his friend's rain of fire precise and potent. If either of his targets faltered in their defence for a moment, they would be out of this fight for good.
While they had always been good at duelling as teens, the training they had given Harry and Hermione had improved their own abilities as well. It was impossible to duel those two regularly and not pick up a new trick or two. They had needed to lift their game considerably over the years just to continue providing a challenge. And now they were seeing the benefits of that struggle in action against folks who only ever attacked defenceless targets that wouldn't fight back.
Harry briefly popped into place in front of Sirius and fired six spells off in a wide sweeping arc. Some going high and dropping the shop signs either onto foes directly or intercepting lethal spells targeting the cowering populace. The rest went low, either catching other spells and exploding in the air or knocking the prone figures out of the way of danger, shunting them inside stalls or shops that the owners hadn't had time to seal up.
He turned and tossed a seventh spell under Sirius's outstretched arm and Sirius heard a heavy thud behind him indicating another body falling to the ground.
"Careful, old man," Harry warned with a cheeky smile before he disappeared again, reappearing a dozen metres away and repeating the defensive barrage.
Sirius was so proud.
And so scared. Harry was just too quick for him to keep up. The moment he came in range of being able to better protect the boy, the lad disappeared off somewhere else again. And something was twisting Sirius's gut in worry. There was something he was missing and it may very well cost them dearly if he didn't figure it out soon.
He quickly turned and ducked over to some cover by a nearby shop and took a moment to centre himself and survey the battlefield. The Death Eaters had pretty much run out of targets now. Between people naturally seeking cover and the efforts of the two teens, most of the people who had been in the alley were now tucked into safety.
The eight Death Eaters that he could see standing were looking worse for wear as well. Sirius realized that he had missed the other obvious thing his godson was doing. The Death Eater fighting away against Remus had lost his mask, and while Sirius didn't know him, he knew the look on the man's face.
Fear.
He was pinned in place and, by the repeated slapping of the pocket on his thigh, Sirius could tell the man's portkey was not working to take him to safety from the fight they had started and were rapidly losing. Harry and Hermione were trapping the enemy in place again, not content to allow them to go free and renew this fight another day.
Everyone that was here was staying here. This meant the fight only ended when all of the Death Eaters were down. And that meant Sirius needed to be certain of their number. Noting that most of the enemy were outside his sightlines, he made a choice and a shudder ran through his body.
Wand and clothing pulled inwards, being replaced by familiar shaggy fur as the large black hound replaced the man. Padfoot paused as the scent of the alley overwhelmed him for a moment. While battle stunk to humans, a dog's far more sensitive nose took a minute to acclimate to such horrid and varied scents.
There was the overwhelming scent of fear and the accompanying human bodily response. Ammonia was everywhere as was the salty stench of sweat. The many magical ingredients up and down the alley had their own potent musk as well. Not to mention the ancient wood and stone of the alley itself. On top of it all was the fiery acrid smell of spells whisking to and fro.
His canine senses slowly came under Padfoot's control as his still-human mind mastered his change. And now he could trace each of the scents filling his nose. He could tell which direction the cowering populace were and the direction of their attackers as well.
He sniffed the air, pulling the smells in instead of just tasting them off the air and a particularly strong and familiar scent came from off to his right, wafting down the alleyway on the light breeze pushing towards the Cauldron. A scent that set Padfoot growling beyond his mental control. A deep-seated hatred was associated with that scent, and Padfoot turned to face it.
While his vision was limited in his canine form, only made of greys, browns, yellows and blues, Padfoot could still make out the alleyway just fine. Except, the smell he was tracking seemed to come from nothing. His new target was hiding, likely under an invisibility cloak. Which meant the evil bitch was tracking something of her own.
Padfoot growled again and he tried to nail down the cow's hidden location. She was a formidable enemy, and he would not get a second chance to make a surprise attack like this against her.
Harry popped momentarily into Padfoot's vision and battered away several spells. A shudder was visible behind him before Harry vanished once more and Padfoot's heart actually stopped for a moment before it rapidly increased once more.
That evil bitch was targeting Harry.
The dog saw red for the first time ever and Padfoot clambered around the nearby boxes that had been blasted aside. They would help cover his approach as the woman was looking in his previous direction. She would not be allowed the chance to strike. That bitch would never harm anyone that he loved ever again.
He came to a small alcove, just by where the scent was strongest. Padfoot crouched into a powerful pose, all four legs engaged like springs, ready to lunge.
The cloak opened slightly and a tiny piece of wood appeared in the air, curving downwards slightly as two tiny flecks of magic soared out of the tip.
Harry appeared almost instantly, the spells having just passed through the air that the boy now occupied. Padfoot froze for a moment as the boy battered the two spells away and a second item came out from under the cloak.
A shining metal blade.
All of the muscles in the powerful dog's body unleashed their tension and Padfoot rocketed forward.
His jaw stretched wide before it clamped down around the slender wrist that had followed the knife forwards and his sharp teeth pierced clothing and skin. A burst of blood filled his mouth, but Padfoot did not let go. He allowed the leap to carry him and the now-trapped arm of his target down and the two tumbled to the ground behind Harry.
Padfoot shook his head viciously the moment that his paws found purchase on the ground once more and he delighted in the snapping sound and scream that came out of his prey. But he was not yet finished here as he used his firm grasp to yank the bitch fully from her concealment. This insane bitch had tried to kill his pup, and Padfoot was not going to let her try ever again.
He released her now broken wrist and used his big powerful legs to swat away the woman's attempt to raise her wand in her off-hand.
No one would consider Bellatrix Lestrange a pushover. She was a competent and powerful witch. Were she sparring with any normal dog, she would have handily dispatched it without any trouble at all.
This form, however, had regularly done battle with a transformed werewolf since he was fifteen years old. And as recently as last Thursday, so Padfoot had no doubts about his ability to keep the slender malnourished woman trapped beneath him. The slim piece of curved wood clattered away as he moved to aim at her upper body and, with sure footing under him, Padfoot snapped down.
His teeth closed once more around soft flesh, and Padfoot bit down as hard as he could. He now had the evil woman's neck clutched in his jaws. Pressing up with his forepaws, Padfoot shook with all of his might. Absolute fury fuelled the action and the mighty dog swung the helpless bitch back and forth between his mighty paws. He could feel his teeth digging further into the throat, blood pouring out until his teeth met bone. And still, he shook as Bellatrix feebly clawed at him with her one good hand, trying to free herself to no avail.
Decades of hatred at the Black family poured through the large dog as he used the worst thing that awful family had ever turned out as his chew toy. Until, finally, he let go with surprise as part of the flesh he had been strangling flew off, clanging against his nose uncomfortably and Padfoot reared back.
While he kept his human mind in the dog's powerful form, he was still subject to some of the animal tendencies. For instance, he could never just walk by a fire hydrant without giving it a wee squirt. And a dog's nose was particularly sensitive to being hit like that. The ingrained animal response to being conked on the nose took over for a moment, and he allowed the woman's body to drop from his jaws. He beheld his work and was surprised.
Bellatrix Lestrange was most assuredly dead.
He knew this for sure as her head was no longer attached to the ragged stump of her neck. Tiny pieces of bone were all that remained inside the ripped and bleeding flesh. And the head was rolling along the ground, matted hair covered in grime and fresh blood keeping the face from being visible.
With his prey dead, Padfoot spun in place, looking for his pup. But Harry was nowhere to be seen. The large dog leapt over the small cowering boy that Harry had saved onto the boxes the lad was hiding behind and beheld the rest of the alley.
Harry was a dozen metres away, dragging unconscious or dead Death Eater bodies together in a pile. Next to him stood Hermione and Remus, helping with the effort. It seemed, in his exuberance to protect Harry from his insane cousin, that Padfoot had missed the end of the fight.
In fact, he had missed the arrival of the Aurors entirely. Diagon Alley was now silent of spell fire but full of the sounds of shuffling feet and hurried voices.
Padfoot dropped back to the street and shuddered once more. Within a moment Sirius Black stood up in his place once again.
"Harry." He yelled, rushing over to the boy who was yet again talking with Amelia Bones.
The boy turned, ignoring the annoyed look on the woman's face. Sirius wrapped the boy in his arms and inhaled his scent, calming his nerves. The last he had seen his godson, he had been on the verge of being stabbed in the back. Likely by a cursed blade if he knew his deranged cousin at all.
"You're alright?" He asked, pulling away and checking Harry over for damage.
"Perfectly fine. You?" Harry asked, giving him an odd look.
"Yeah. I'm fine." Sirius replied, before wondering at Harry's expression. "Why? Is there something on my face?"
A moment of realization washed over Sirius as he recalled that often the results of Padfoot's eagerness did not disappear when he changed back. Harry gave a soft snap of his fingers and Sirius felt the cool breeze of the alleyway wash over his face, which had probably been covered in Bellatrix's blood.
"Right, thanks."
"Amelia, wonderful to see you," Dumbledore said, stepping forward.
Sirius glanced up and noted that his earlier assessment had been correct. While Albus's robes looked like he'd been through the wringer, the man wasn't limping or nursing any sore limbs. He had played the weak old man perfectly and used that ruse to take out all but the one most dangerous attacker in the alley. Even without the mythical wand Harry had taken from him, he was still a formidable force of magic.
"Can you lot not stay out of trouble?" Bones asked though Sirius knew her well enough by now to know she was grateful.
As effective as she was at her job, it took time to mobilize the Aurors. First, the report had to come in that they were even needed. Usually, even this could come too late to prevent most magical battles. Duels may be long drawn out battles where the contestants wanted to show off their skills. But attacks like these were quick and dirty.
Today, folks had fallen to the first volley before others were even aware there was something wrong. In many of the battles of the previous war, by the time someone was aware enough to sound an alarm, the battle was almost over.
"A few dozen more for you," Hermione said with a smile, finally joining Harry's side.
"I'm not sure we expanded the cells enough for how effective you two are."
"Just doing our civic duty," Harry said. "Though we do have other things to discuss when you have time later."
Harry finished the sentence without the obvious added in. He was conveying to the woman that they had news about the anchor. Not that they could speak such things aloud in the middle of Diagon Alley.
"And we will need to have a meeting with the goblins to smooth things over," Hermione added. "After holding a pitched battle on their doorstep."
Several in the group glanced down the alley at the shining armoured guards still standing watch at the doors to the marble bank. They had not moved from their position throughout. The battles of humans were not the concern of the Goblin Nation unless the Ministry wanted to negotiate their involvement or the humans were fool enough to take that fight onto goblin territory.
Had any of the Death Eaters set foot upon those marble steps while firing spells, the guards would have taken them down in a second.
Sirius, though, was looking at the bank for another reason. The last piece of the puzzle of Riddle's survival apparently lay within. Not that he doubted Harry's senses for a moment, the boy was incredible with how he could feel and manipulate magic. The battle they had just fought proved that. Even Dumbledore could not have saved as many as Harry and Hermione had today.
Sirius's eyes drifted with his mind and he noted that the only civilian casualties had been those unlucky few taken in the first surprise attack. Five dead and another twelve were injured. Out of the hundreds of people that had been milling around the previously packed Alley. That had been the reason Harry had ducked off alone, the Alley had been standing room only when the attack had begun.
The fight he had been pushing so hard to keep the kids from had come and gone, and as ever, they had proven their capability beyond anything he could have imagined. The Family were fast running out of reasons to keep those two out of matters. Beyond simply wanting to protect their youth.
"Alright. Come to the Office in two hours and I'll collect your statements." Amelia acknowledged, and Sirius was shaken from his thoughts. "For now, you lot clear out and let us do our jobs."
"Sorry," Harry said quietly to the elder woman, who glanced at him and gave him a soft smile.
"Mr Potter, I would sooner clean up one of your messes, than one of Riddle's."
Harry smiled at the praise and Hermione snuggled tightly to the boy's side.
Amelia was right though. This had been the most successful defence against a Death Eater raid Sirius had ever seen. Every member of the attacking force was now in custody, except for his mad cousin, who was dead. So many had been avenged by Padfoot's jaws today. Sirius would sleep better for having delivered that killing blow. One less evil bitch in the world.
Sirius laid his hand on Harry's shoulder and the boy looked up at him.
"Let's go home, Harry," Sirius said, squeezing the lad's shoulder firmly.
ϟ
Andromeda stood quietly over the table, looking down at the decapitated corpse of her sister.
She held no ill will towards Sirius or Padfoot for the condition of the woman she had once treasured as a sibling. Bellatrix had done truly horrible things in the years since they had played together happily as children. Yet, there was a sorrow there nonetheless.
With the news that Narcissa had been found tortured and murdered in her home, the once formidable trio of Black Sisters who had dominated Slytherin and Hogwarts in the sixties had been reduced solely to Andromeda now. The disappointment who 'married a mudblood' was the only one to survive Riddle's stupid blood wars. Not the 'proper' Blacks who married into respected pureblood families.
Andi tried not to look at the terrified scowl on Bella's face, beneath the layers of matted hair. Even after the coroner had cleaned the body of the blood, her wild hair had remained. In some ways, Bella reminded Andi of Hermione. They both had wild untamed hair, though in Bella's case, it was due to a lack of care altogether, rather than a genetic nuisance or sign of unrealized magic as Harry claimed for his girlfriend. When Bella tried, her hair hung in beautiful thick black ringlets.
Both women were utterly committed to their man. In Hermione's case, that was Harry, and he returned the loyalty one hundred per cent. Though in Bella's, it had long been Riddle himself with whom she had tied her life. She may have married Rodolphus, but the fool had never held her heart. Riddle had bewitched the young teen girl without ever having met her. After graduating from Hogwarts, Bella had done her duty to the family and married pure, although the union had never provided issue, and then she had sought out the man of her heart.
Andromeda had only ever caught glimpses of her since that day. From the other side of a battlefield. And now, the most misguided of their three lay dead before her. Killed for her unrequited adoration of a madman.
"Are you alright?" Ted asked, standing at her shoulder.
He was such a quiet man, but he always knew when to speak. Andromeda couldn't help but smile at his concern.
"I will be. Mad as she became, she was still my sister. I grieve not for the maniac, but for the budding woman who was taken in by honeyed words and the family rhetoric."
"You are a better mother than your own," Ted said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and stepping tightly against her body.
"Thank you," Andi said, sighing softly. "This is exactly why I was so hard on Nymphadora. I've seen where the Black madness can take us."
"You have protected her from it well, dear." He said, laying a soft kiss on her own brown hair. So often it had matched her elder sister's, except for the colour. Despite the short year and a half between them, they had often been mistaken for twins in their youth, as opposed to their younger sister with her delicate blonde hair. That too had ended once Bellatrix had embraced Riddle. The cool curiosity in her eyes was replaced by rabid madness and devotion to a master who would never care for her in return.
With the earlier deaths of the baby of their trio and Andi's nephew, only Andromeda and Nymphadora remained to carry on Cygnus's legacy.
Andromeda sighed again as she considered that, had she not already had such a wonderful daughter, today's events might have spurred her to allow the demented line of her family to end with her. Perhaps it was high time for the Black family to die out. Such was the harm that it had done to their world through the years.
While Sirius had inherited the estate by being proven virile, he had yet to act upon it. Andi had not spoken to him about his intentions directly, but she certainly had the feeling that he was leaning in that direction as well.
The man would surely bequeath the monetary and physical portions of the Black Estate to Harry, but Andi very much doubted that he intended to sire any children. Harry was all the child the man needed.
Not that either of them could truly end the Black line.
Even Harry bore Black blood from Dorea. The Weasleys too, and the Longbottoms. The Crouches had recently died out, and the Rosier relation bore out only herself and Nymphadora now, but members of the Crabbes, Burkes, Yaxleys, Bulstrodes, McMillans, and Flints all still lived. Along with a dozen other families who bore Black blood no more than two generations removed.
The house was nothing if not prolific in their intermarriages with other families.
Andi believed it to be the source of the Black Madness that people often spoke of. The breadth of the Black bloodline meant that their genetic material spread far and wide, and often remarried into the family again with only a generation or two in between. It was a miracle that Sirius was as sane as he was, given his own parents' close relation.
While the ragged old tapestry in Grimmauld Place showed many names, It really only kept track of those who bore the last name of Black. Once they lost the family name, they were left to keep their own record.
She sighed again, pressing tighter into Ted's body. She was glad to be rid of the weight of the family name. Even if those relatives continued to spread the Black blood, Sirius was the only one left who could actually carry the name onwards.
Her eyes drifted downwards, and for a moment, Andromeda could see the vibrant sister that had been so consumed by Riddle's rage. She smiled at her wayward sister.
"Goodbye, Bellatrix." She said softly, before she turned into Ted and allowed herself to truly grieve after thirty years.
Her sister had been gone for a long time, but now she was beyond all hope of return.
And the world was all the better for it.
ϟ
Tuesday, 15th August 1995.
Amelia stood quietly as the goblin delegation entered the conference room.
The same faces that had been present for all such discussions about the Riddle anchors were present on their side, but it was still a surprise to see who was representing the goblin side today.
The children had happily greeted the lone female goblin present, in the goblin language, which had been yet another surprise. It seemed they had a history with the female and they spent most of the time waiting for the rest to arrive chatting away with her.
After her though, had come the largest surprise. Ragnok himself.
Through her position, Amelia had to know the ins and outs of the groups that wizards dealt with, in order to manage the DMLE's response to any incidents involving foreign powers. This included knowing the details of the muggle and goblin power structures, as both existed as practical foreign nations within the bounds of the island that they all called home.
To have the Gragnar of the Under of London present was a shock. While Potter and his family had repeatedly told her to come and speak with the goblins, she had not guessed that they were regularly interacting with the most powerful goblin on this side of the Carpathian Mountains. Where the main bulk of the Goblin Nation sat beneath that long mountain range.
Unsurprising, once Ragnok had entered, were the guards flanking him in highly polished armour. Each carried an enormous spear that, once everyone was seated, could easily reach across the entire table and skewer any of the magical folk present should they attempt to draw their wands in the presence of the Gragnar.
Rounding out the goblin delegation were a few account managers that she did not presently know the names of, but whom she was certain would be officially introduced before matters got started.
"Apologies for the delay," Ragnok said, glancing with a smile at Potter in the centre of their group. "A goblin's work is never done. Sit."
With the invitation delivered, everyone took a place around the table. Potter, Granger and Black were in the central seats on their side, and Amelia took a place next to the teen girl. Fudge quickly took the space next to her with Dumbledore plopping down on the chair at the far end beside Black and Lupin.
The goblins also arranged themselves around Ragnok in the centre, however, the guards remained standing at his shoulders, exactly as Amelia had expected them to. The female goblin spoke to him inaudibly as they all took their places.
Ragnok nodded to her before he glanced at them all in turn, his expression darkening as he noted Dumbledore at the far end. "So, you called for this meeting, what can the Goblin Nation do for you today?"
The goblin's eyes fixed finally on Potter as he spoke, which indicated the goblin's understanding of their group. Seated at the table was the Head of Magical Britain, the Head of the nation's police force and the famous former hero in charge of educating that nation. And yet, Ragnok focused on the youngest person present.
"It has been a while since we had a good chat about matters," Potter said, not showing any sign of being awed by the presence of the Goblin Head of State. "In that time, we've learned how Riddle survived our first encounter. And we've been working to destroy those anchors."
Amelia watched the goblins closely as Potter spoke and she noted a glimmer of recognition the moment the word anchor was uttered.
"They are foul magic that we probably should have come and seen you about sooner. Given that Hermione's research has led us to the understanding that the Goblin Nation encounters such artefacts regularly."
This surprised Amelia, but the more she considered it, the more obvious it became.
"Indeed we do," Ragnok replied. "They are extremely common in the tombs of Egypt and Greece. Many humans have sought to cheat death through such magic. You seek counsel on how to dispose of them then?"
Potter smiled at the comment before he spoke again. "Not really. Would have been extremely useful to do so a few weeks ago, though. Before we destroyed four of them."
This sent a shudder through all present on the other side, but amazingly enough, it was the female who spoke.
"One man made more than three anchors? Of what variety?"
"Horcruxes." Granger said, ignoring the motion coming from the man at the far end of the table.
Amelia knew that Dumbledore would try to contain that information at some point. He had made considerable strides in being more open and cooperative with them lately, but some of that old controlling behaviour still lay within him. And, though she did not know the reason behind it, Dumbledore's antagonistic relationship with the goblins was well known. Not that she knew anyone who could explain the why of it all.
The female quickly drew her attention though as she began to deliver what was very clearly a string of expletives. While Amelia did not understand the goblin language well enough to translate them, a pissed-off woman swearing like that was a universally understood sign of danger.
"Lurlor." Ragnok said softly, a simple reminder of their purpose, not a reprimand. "Forgive me, I have forgotten my manners today as well it seems. Not all of you have met before. Lurlor is a senior member of the Enchanterate. And Balrak and Farkor here are account managers for the individuals involved. Back to matters, though. How many do you believe he made?"
"He attempted to create seven pieces," Amelia replied, finally joining the discussion. "Six intentional, one accidental. With a portion remaining in Riddle's body, of course."
"A great deal becomes much clearer. It is a small wonder the man went as insane as he did. Although, it would effectively allow him to cheat death for a time."
"The accidental one, as well as four of the intentional ones, have been destroyed," Potter said. "Two remain, and we are fairly certain that we know where both reside."
Ragnok tilted his head curiously as he watched the boy, and Amelia was impressed at the speed with which he figured things out.
"You believe one resides here, in the bank."
"Yes." Potter nodded, pausing with a soft sigh before he continued. "I was the accidental one."
The goblins all seemed bothered by the statement in various ways.
"You were?" Balrak asked, speaking for the first time.
"Riddle himself was kind enough to destroy it the second time we met," Potter replied simply, not elaborating on the fact it had been him surviving a second killing curse that had supposedly removed the tainted soul. "My time with his foul stench inside me allows me to feel the other pieces of that soul inside of these objects. But only when I get close enough."
"Using the one we have access to," Granger continued, "Harry was able to triangulate the position of the final one. We are certain that it is somewhere below Gringotts, though we cannot be more specific than that without…"
The girl trailed off, and Amelia knew what was coming.
"We cannot allow you to simply wander the vaults searching for this final trinket," Ragnok noted, confirming her suspicion.
"Never intended to ask you to," Potter replied. "I've been down there, to my vault many times over the years. I've never felt the barest whiff of this thing before. Now, either I couldn't feel it while the shard was present within me, or the walls of the vaults themselves prevented any leakage from being detected. I'm inclined to think the latter. As I never went near any of the others before mine was destroyed either."
"Harry could wander those halls for years and not find a trace of the blasted thing." Black chimed in.
"So," Lupin continued, making the four seem like a hive-minded quadruple act, "we figured we'd ask you to look in our stead. I'm sure we can come to some arrangement in regards to payment for such a task."
Ragnok leaned back and observed them all. His face was inscrutable. Amelia had endured numerous discussions with goblins in the past, but Ragnok was particularly hard to read. The only outward sign she noticed was when his lips parted slightly and his dark tongue ran across the teeth of his upper jaw.
"Such a thing would take considerable time and resources. We would need to take incredible care to prevent violation of any of the regulations under which we are bound. And you would not be able to touch anything taken from a vault belonging to another client of the bank."
"You know our finances as well as we do," Black said. "Name your price and we will pay it."
"And we do not ask for the item." Granger clarified.
"Our only condition would be that I am present when you destroy the soul within." Potter finished.
Ragnok smiled but it was Lurlor who spoke. "So that you can be sure that the soul fragment is present and that it is destroyed?" She asked, looking genuinely impressed.
"Exactly."
Ragnok tapped his long fingers against the stone tabletop for a moment before he drew a set of runes in the air and the other side of the table fell silent. The four goblins spoke between themselves, but no sound passed across to their side of the table. Amelia had no idea what they were discussing, but Ragnok seemed particularly thrilled about it.
It was several minutes before he dispelled the silencing magic and looked at them once more, this time with a vivid grin on his face.
"We have a proposal that would be acceptable to the Nation. We shall audit all of the Death Eater vaults, as the Ministry has requested of us as part of their investigation into the Azkaban breakout. To ascertain if any of those vaults were used to fund the attack." He said, looking directly at Amelia, who gave a sharp nod of agreement. She had asked for no such thing, but would write up and backdate the paperwork for it the moment she was out of here today. It had not been necessary as yet, as they knew who had enacted the breakout. But it was a loophole that she had not considered they could exploit for their actual purpose here today. "In exchange, we ask not for gold…"
This gave everyone at the table pause. When goblins did something, there was always a cost. And their favourite form of payment was gold. For them to forgo gold over such an undertaking meant they wanted something far more valuable.
"Name your price," Potter said before the others could interject.
Ragnok's grin widened.
"Rumor has it that some human magical has developed a previously unheard of magic. In exchange, you shall help us to clear the Under of a scourge that has plagued goblin kind since time immemorial. You shall kill the Kekrebore."
All of the goblins present, even the guards, shuddered at the word. Whatever a Kekrebore was, the goblins hated it.
"That is all?" Granger asked softly, drawing the eye of every adult at the table. "Kill the Dementors?"
"The Kekrebore have killed more goblins than all of your 'rebellions' combined," Lurlor noted fiercely. "They have plagued our people for our entire history underground. Whenever we would attempt to delve into a new cave system, they would be there. Behind every new wall might be a festering nest. Or they would sneak up on camps, attacking the delvers as they slept. They even launch occasional assaults on our largest cities. We long ago mastered the magic needed to keep them out of the cities themselves, at least en masse, but that has not stopped them from trying. And there are always goblins venturing beyond the wards to pick off. We cannot fully ward the entire Vregr Dehur.
"Word has reached the Nation of someone killing these demons on the surface. Given that these fools," Lurlor indicated Amelia and Dumbledore, "have never succeeded at such before, it is obvious to us who this new warrior must be."
Amelia felt she should have probably been offended by being called a fool, but given Lurlor was right that the Ministry had never succeeded in anything but pushing Dementors back, she felt it was apt.
"The books we studied never mentioned that the Nation had such bad blood with Dementors." Potter mused. "Had we known…"
Amelia chuckled to herself. From what she knew of the boy by now, he'd likely have offered to drive them out for free. Doing so in exchange for exactly what they were after was a win in everyone's book.
Farkor spoke up for the first time in the meeting. "We goblins do not often share our greatest animosities." His eyes flicked to Dumbledore at the far end of their group and Amelia was left to wonder exactly what had caused such hatred between them. The man was frustrating to be sure, but every single goblin glared at him with such loathing. And Albus too seemed to hold some deep grudge against them in return.
"It would not be a simple task." Ragnok clarified, drawing the discussion back to the Dementors. "The Under is vast, and most of this menace resides in the Deep. Beyond the lowest Vaults and all but the deepest of the Pits. Out in the unprotected roads between our cities. Since you began to slaughter them on the surface, they have clogged the passages between this island and our eastern brethren. It would seem," he paused, glancing now at Amelia in a way that made her most uncomfortable, "gorging them for centuries on the worst of your kind has greatly increased their number. It would take years to kill them all."
Amelia shuddered. Had they truly given the Dementors a perfect environment in which to balloon their numbers? Many had called for reform of Azkaban over the years, but no Minister had ever actually achieved any real change. More and more, the magical folk had put their faith in creatures they barely understood. In this case, perhaps Riddle had done them one good turn by finally removing the debate. Never again would a prisoner set foot in that ruined tower.
However, their current system would not last them either if Azkaban's population were anything to go by. A more long-term solution would need to be devised.
She turned to look at the others and see what their thoughts were but she only noticed Potter as he glanced at Granger who simply nodded her agreement to allow him to make whatever decision he liked. Amelia was still amazed at how truly in sync the two were.
"Deal, with some caveats. We request that the anchor be dealt with as quickly as possible, and in exchange for the goblins presenting Hufflepuff's Chalice to me and allowing me to watch its destruction, Hermione and I shall clear the Under of Kekrebore. No matter how long it takes. You have my word."
Black looked like he wanted to say something to the contrary, but before he could speak, the air directly above the stone table top began to glow as Potter and Granger enacted their pact with the entire Goblin Nation. By the sounds of things, the boy would be very busy for the next several years. Possibly even the rest of his life depending on how hard the Dementors were to locate underground. But a reduction in Dementor numbers certainly sounded like a good thing in her books.
The assembled goblins seemed thrilled with the negotiation.
"Excellent." Ragnok said. "I shall set the auditors loose immediately. We shall summon you once we have the artefact."
"Harry…" Black finally got out, sounding like the wounded dog that he sometimes still seemed to be.
"We will of course be requesting goblin guidance and guards during our efforts, Sirius. And you're welcome to help. Hermione and I aren't going to blindly wander down into pitch-black tunnels and hope for the best. And we all know that Dawn and Kitty take a bit to do their thing. We will need, and welcome, any and all assistance offered."
"You shall have whatever you need." Ragnok agreed. "I will have a detail prepared immediately. One which will be available for use day or night. Our finest soldiers and delvers to accompany and guide you."
"Thank you," Granger said, leaning forward on the table. "However, we do need to clarify one point. We do not promise complete extermination. That may be impossible. Given that these creatures are not properly native to this world, thanks to their origin, it is possible that they cannot be fully removed from it. And we cannot know the location of every single one of them."
Ragnok nodded, becoming somewhat more solemn than the obvious glee he had at Potter agreeing to his terms so readily. "Of course. The Nation will not hold you to the impossible. If we are in agreement?" Ragnok asked and both Potter and Granger nodded once again. "Then the Nation accepts the terms."
The glowing table top flared and sealed the magic of the pact between them.
"Perhaps," Ragnok continued, "as you do your work, we may find a way to replicate your methods for ourselves. Also, let it not be said that we abuse this agreement to our benefit. At certain milestones, additional rewards shall be provided. If the destruction of a single human's anchor feels insufficient reward at any point. Perhaps even a steady wage."
Potter just smiled at the openly smirking goblin opposite himself. "Seems like I just got myself my first job."
"Our first job." Granger noted, holding the boy's hand where it rested on the once again dull grey stone table top.
"This is going to be fun to explain to your parents," Lupin mumbled, and Amelia was uncertain which parents he was referring to.
A/N: Yes, to those who noticed, I am shamelessly stealing the idea of the Deep Roads from Dragon Age. The Dementors are to the goblins as the darkspawn are to the dwarves. A blight created ages ago by ancient magicals who selfishly tried to forcibly subvert all of magic to their whim with a ritual that burned them up into soul-devouring husks as a result. Husks that harass the goblins in the depths and never truly leave, no matter how many times they go forth and harass the surface as well. I make no apologies for that. The Deep Roads are super freaking cool.