3,102Chapter 61: Applied Knowledge
Friday, 25th August 1995.
Harry felt somewhat odd walking through the bank again.
The past week spent in the Vregr Dehur had refocused his idea of goblin architecture. No longer was the marble of the bank nearly as impressive now that he knew what was hidden far below. Humans made structures out of marble all the time, though usually not nearly to this scale. Especially not in modern times.
It was still beautiful to behold, but compared to the Roads he now knew existed below, it held different significance. This symbol of opulence was designed for humans, matching with the artistry they were used to seeing on the surface. It was far from the majesty that they had carved out of the very earth itself.
However, he was unable to dwell for long on distractions like the design of the hallways as the doors before him opened and he once more felt the sinister taint of Tom Riddle from within.
But this time, it made him smile.
He had no idea how long he had expected the task to take, so the message that Hedwig had delivered over his breakfast had been a surprise. It had earned his second favourite girl a large helping of bacon. Harry had no idea how his snowy owl knew when someone had correspondence for him, but she was always waiting to take it from them and deliver it to him personally.
"Welcome," Ragnok smirked as they walked inside.
Harry gave the goblin a curt bow as the others followed him inside. It was a fairly standard side room for the bank. Carved stone made up the floor and the lower fifth of the wall before it smoothly transitioned to the dark marble walls and ceiling. There was room enough for about twenty to stand if somewhat crowded inside, but today it bore only three goblins and three humans. Sirius and Remus once again waited outside with the goblin guards. Amelia Bones was present to bear witness for the Ministry, as the ones who had 'requested the audit'.
In the centre of the room was a stone plinth rising out of the stone floor, a style which Harry now understood the goblins had grown up out of the floor itself using their unique magic. Resting atop the surface was a small object covered in a silken sheet and a small vial of thick green liquid.
Harry did not need to sneak a glance to know what the goblins had found. He could feel the filth emanating from the concealed cup.
"You work fast." He finally said as they came to a halt beside the plinth.
He nodded to Lurlor and Bashk, the elder goblin who had overseen Harry's emancipation ritual all those years ago. Obviously, Lurlor was present to assess the function of the enchanted item after the process was complete, and Bashk was likely to be the one with intimate knowledge of how such items were best dealt with.
"Indeed Gringotts prides itself on our service. However, in this case, it was in the final vault in which we looked.
Harry inspected the silk covering closer, allowing his magic to feel the object hidden below. Once he managed to get past the disgusting feeling of Riddle seething within it, he could feel other magic on the Cup. Both caring and evil. He assumed the sweet feeling magic to be the enchantments that Helga Hufflepuff herself had laid down upon her artefact. Something she had designed to help and heal. The other magic also felt familiar. Harry had fought against it not that long ago.
It belonged to the crazed witch that Sirius had beheaded that day just down the Alley from here.
"Bellatrix Lestrange." He said.
Ragnok smirked at the statement of fact. They both knew that he was right.
"As ever, you managed to surprise me," Lurlor noted, giving Harry an appraising glance.
"You are indeed correct. It was found inside the Lestrange vault, with several unauthorised enchantments upon it and the other contents. Appropriate fees have been levied against the key holder for such behaviour.
"Shall we get it done? So that the Nation can avoid any unpleasantness." Hermione suggested, standing beside Harry as always.
"So be it," Ragnok instructed and Bashk slipped the silk covering off the Cup, revealing the tainted artefact to their eyes.
Harry felt a swell of regret for what they were about to do. As with Ravenclaw's Diadem, this was a historical artefact. Something made for the betterment of all that had been perverted by one for their own selfish need to cheat death. Corrupted forever beyond its initial purpose.
And yet, it retained a beauty despite that taint. Whether Helga Hufflepuff had forged the golden cup herself, or whether she had commissioned it, the artisan that had forged it had done fine work.
But Harry could not ignore the slippery soul that possessed the shiny object.
He glanced at the nearby vial instead. "What's that?" He asked, as Bashk picked it up, dragonhide gloves on both hands screaming the liquid's danger to everyone present.
"Something we learned a long time ago makes very short work of soul anchors," Bashk replied with a smirk.
He uncorked the vial and poured it immediately into the Cup. The goblin quickly placed the vial down and tapped the stone top with his gloved claw and a magical field sprung up around the plinth. For a moment, nothing happened. But suddenly, the Cup jumped, much like the beaker of aqua regia had near the end of the Locket's existence.
Harry could hear the green liquid inside bubbling away, but he could not see any steam indicating that the fluid was boiling. Suddenly, the golden sides of the cup pulled sharply inwards, as if something immensely strong had just crushed it with a single blow. The metal ripped, shearing through the proud badger on the side and spilling the pale green liquid out onto the stone top.
A screech of agony filled the air before it dissipated, and with it went the tainted feeling Harry had felt ever since the door to the room had been opened. He smiled.
One more sliver of Riddle's soul had been destroyed. At the cost of yet another storied artefact.
The field retreated from the goblin side of the plinth and Bashk used a delicate hand motion to manipulate the thick liquid back into the vial. Only once every little drop had been returned did Lurlor step forward and begin waving her instruments over the remains of the mangled Cup.
"How is it?" Hermione asked.
Lurlor glanced up at her for a moment before continuing her checks. When she finally lowered her hands, she glanced back at the girl. "Ruined."
Ragnok smiled, and Harry was confused. "Something else to fine the key holder for." He turned to Bashk. "You may return it to the vault now."
"Before you go, Bashk," Harry said, holding up his hand. "What is that?"
He pointed at the vial in the goblin's left hand as he reached out for the cup with his right.
"Basilisk venom." The elder goblin said with a vicious smile.
"That works?" Hermione asked.
"Obviously."
"Of course. How could I forget that?" Harry said, drawing her eye.
He could feel the same cogs turning in her own head. The liquid had seemed quite similar to aqua regia, but had made even shorter work of the golden cup than the acid had made of the locket.
Noticing her attention he locked eyes with her. "Sirius told us. Remember? That's how Herpo the Foul's Horcrux was destroyed. With venom from his own basilisk. Not that it really would have helped us until now. We don't exactly have ready access to basilisk venom." Harry turned to the goblins and continued. "Given that it only takes in things that make it stronger, would goblin steel be able to be imbued with that venom?" He asked Ragnok and Lurlor as Bashk headed out of the room with the ruined object.
"We still have one more of these things to destroy," Hermione added. "And our methods so far have been variously destructive, not just to the object itself."
Ragnok turned to Lurlor and he nodded. She returned the nod and gathered her supplies.
"I take it you would like it charged to your account in the normal fashion?" Ragnok asked.
"Certainly," Harry replied, hopeful that with such an item, they could finish the diary the moment the goblins provided the imbued item.
"Any preference on form?" Lurlor asked.
Harry turned to Hermione with a smirk. "How have you always wanted to destroy a book, but never actually done so?"
She looked momentarily aghast at even the suggestion before her expression brightened and she smiled. "A knife will do. Something hefty that can easily cut through leather."
Lurlor nodded. "Give me a few days."
The female goblin departed the room and Harry felt excited at the prospect that Riddle's new reign of terror could well soon be over before it truly had a chance to begin. Yes, people had already died this time around. But it paled in comparison to how bad things had looked before Harry's parents had been murdered. If Riddle had been a little more patient, he could have finished conquering the Ministry before coming after Harry.
"Madame Bones," Ragnok said, drawing their attention once more. "I have the rest of the reports the Ministry requires from the audit in my office. Shall we?"
Bones nodded and gave the two children a firm smile as she departed with the Gragnar.
"Soon," Hermione said softly as Remus and Sirius entered the room.
"All good?" Remus asked.
Harry just nodded as he stared at the now blank stone plinth.
"One to go. Then Riddle himself."
ϟ
Saturday, 26th August 1995.
Voldemort carefully read over the schematic for the third time today.
While he had been one of the least useful pawns during his previous reign, having only recently joined the Ministry by the time of the Dark Lord's first encounter with Potter, Yaxley had proven a valuable resource this time around.
His junior status in Voldemort's army had allowed him to avoid notice after his fall. And the man had ingrained himself into some rather important departments in the Ministry. With Lucius gone, Yaxley had been his next best way into those departments. Several key personnel were now primed and ready for the Dark Lord's orders.
Yaxley's reach was still limited. He could not readily access anyone on the upper floors of the Ministry without suspicion. But Fudge's time would still come. Voldemort had early plans in the works to make a true show of that man's death. They would solidify his rule of terror.
These plans, however, showed the bowels of the Ministry. The halls that housed not only something he had long sought, but he now knew also contained the captured remnants of his army. The Ministry had simply dug further into the earth underneath the courtrooms, expanding the small handful of cells used to hold criminals on trial dates into a proper jail.
Access had appropriately been tightened, but Lord Voldemort would not be stopped by something so simple. What he truly sought was far better protected than the cell block.
However, freeing his troops would not only provide additional hands for the escape but help to cover his true purpose as well.
Rookwood had been very clear. Only Voldemort himself or Potter could remove it. Without the information contained inside, he could not risk another confrontation with the boy so soon. Clearly, there was magic he did not understand at work. He needed information to properly plan how to rid himself of that nuisance once and for all.
Voldemort smiled as a new facet of the plan developed fresh in his mind as well. Another way that his forces could ensure neither the child, the old fool or the Ministry themselves could interfere.
And with that, the date of his assault was settled.
ϟ
Tuesday, 29th August 1995.
Harry swung the door inward and gestured the others into the large office.
As on their last visit, Dumbledore was perched behind his desk, simply watching as they assembled in front of him.
The old man glanced at his watch and smiled at them. "Right on time I see."
Harry returned the smile, no longer feeling any of his previous animosity at Dumbledore for the scare the man had given him in his youth. The incident at the Gaunt Shack and their mutual defence of Diagon Alley had burned away those old worries. He still would not trust Dumbledore as the sole protection of something like Hermione's life, but he trusted him enough that his magic no longer reacted negatively to simply being near the man.
Perhaps, in time, Dumbledore might be able to earn his full trust. Today was to be one of the final tests of that.
Harry took the most central seat at the desk and his usual accompaniment took theirs. Hermione at his right hand, Sirius to his left and Remus and Andi today were on the far edges. As their arrival and number had been prearranged, the exact right number of chairs had been provided.
"Before we begin, I must ask," Dumbledore said, "...was it truly so simple?"
Harry smirked. Remus had passed along the explanation of the Cup's demise when he had arranged this meeting and Dumbledore had seemed shocked that the venom had been so effective so quickly.
"Yes, it was," Hermione replied in Harry's place. "Which was why we commissioned this."
She lifted the hefty knife onto the table. The dark wooden handle gleamed in the light of the office, but the wide blade was obscured by the dragonscale scabbard the goblins had provided it in.
"Goblin steel intentionally imbued with basilisk venom," Harry noted.
Hermione smiled even wider as she revealed the blade of the cleaver that she had asked Lurlor to make. "I named it Orcrist." She said, watching Dumbledore closely as she spoke.
The old man chuckled and Harry knew he instantly understood the reference Hermione had made. Although, this was a goblin-made cleaver, rather than a blade made for cleaving goblins. And it would not glow blue in the presence of goblins or Horcruxes. It was, however, made for killing them.
"If you will?" Remus asked, trying to progress the discussion along to their reason for being there.
"Of course," Dumbledore said, reaching down, ensuring that his ebony wand never pointed in Harry or Hermione's direction. He tapped the drawer in which the, hopefully final, anchor had been kept for so long. Apart from the few short times where Harry had removed it in the past two months.
Had it truly only been that long, he thought to himself as the now familiar awful feeling of being near Tom Riddle's ruined soul washed over him. The detour after the Third Task had seen the destruction of the first two anchors on the 24th of June. Here they were, just sixty-six days later and they had also destroyed the other four, leaving only the first discovered of them here in Dumbledore's office.
The elder wizard placed the tainted book down on the surface of the desk and Harry stared at it. This was the moment of truth for their efforts. He could not feel any of the tethers to the other Horcruxes anymore. They had destroyed those as they had destroyed the vessels. Now, all that remained was the soul within and the ephemeral, untraceable connection back to Riddle. One that was impossible to feel any kind of direction from.
"That's a relief," Harry said. "I can't feel any other tethers. I am almost certain that this is the last one."
It would have been nice if he could have used the book to track down Riddle, allowing this all to come to an end today. But the intangible nature of that final link had already thwarted Harry once before. It was best to be done with this one for good and to know that when Riddle eventually poked his head out again, that head would be mortal once more.
Hermione slowly peeled the scabbard away from the dark steel blade of Orcrist. They all knew to be extremely careful around the blade. Lurlor had explained how the steel had practically drunk the venom down. Consuming far more than they had expected of it. It was almost as if the freshly-forged blade wanted to kill Horcruxes and was fulfilling its purpose by becoming the best soul anchor killer it could be.
"You do it," Hermione said softly as she cautiously laid the knife down on the book, pointing the handle in Dumbledore's direction.
The old man gave a short chuckle. "One last test?"
Harry had never doubted he would see the challenge here. The test of whether Riddle's soul in the book had affected Dumbledore in some way through its continued proximity to him.
"Very well."
Dumbledore carefully grasped the handle of the meaty blade and shifted the diary closer to his side of the desk.
To Harry's left, he heard the sound of a small bag of coins being fiddled with, and he tried not to smile at the fact his godfather and honorary uncle had bet on the outcome of the next few moments. He knew it was how they liked to pass the time, making foolish bets with one another. Betting the money that Sirius's awful family had left him and the exorbitant amount Harry's father tricked Remus into accepting for his role in Harry's life. But the lion's share of his attention remained on the diary and the knife.
If Dumbledore was affected, he could try to use the lethal blade against them. Hermione was ready to snap it away at the slightest hint of such an action. And Harry was mostly focused on the diary. In case it made some final stand as they had been warned Horcruxes could do if they were in any way empowered before their destruction. Had the old man written in this book, it may very well put up a measure of resistance to its end.
With a short steadying breath, Dumbledore raised the cleaver high into the air and gave it a mighty swing downwards.
The imbued blade lived up to its name as it cleaved straight through the leather binding, cutting through the book sideways and severing the spine as it embedded in the desk. The old man's aim had been slightly awry, leaving a few now ink-leaking pages together. The knife had not cut the book completely in two. And so, Dumbledore lifted the knife again and brought it down once more, completing the move and splitting the tainted book completely in two.
What appeared to be ink gushed from the pages of the now-broken book and poured out over the desk. Harry continued watching the two pieces bleeding all over the place before he felt the relief that only came from the destruction of the soul sliver that had been in his direct proximity. This Horcrux was officially dead and he could no longer feel any whisper of Riddle's soul anywhere nearby.
He raised his hand and snapped his fingers, vanishing the ruined book and the spreading pool of ink.
Tom Marvolo Riddle was now as mortal as the rest of them.
Harry smiled at the relief he felt, enjoying the feeling as Hermione interlaced her fingers with his own.
"No more Horcruxes," Harry said softly.
"Are you sure?" Andi asked as Harry ignored the exchange of money happening to his left.
"I couldn't feel anything else coming off of the Diary. I'm as sure as I can be that Riddle himself is all that is left. When I kill him too, I'll be able to feel if his soul crosses over like these, or if it remains tethered."
"We should have gone to the goblins far sooner," Hermione noted, gesturing with her free hand for Dumbledore to place Orcrist back into the scabbard lying on the desk.
The old man nodded and sheathed the deadly blade.
"Indeed. Yet another of my many mistakes. It was important that Tom not learn of our efforts. But you have proven without a doubt that cautiously sharing information with the right people certainly makes a task easier to accomplish." Dumbledore noted as he pushed the sheathed knife back across the desk.
"Now what?" Sirius asked.
"Now we wait," Harry said with a sigh. "Riddle will make a mistake soon too. He'll overreach. Just like he did with Madame Bones. And when he does, we will kill him."
Harry hated that intentional murder on his part would be likely before all of this was over. There was a big difference between acting in the moment, like he had with Draco trying to murder the other half of his soul right in front of him, and planning to end someone's life from the off.
"Anyone can do it, Harry. It doesn't have to be you." Hermione said, squeezing his hand.
"I know. But it feels like it will be." He replied.
"I don't know," Sirius said. "I've got quite a score to settle with that prick. For James and Lily. I'll happily do it for you, Harry."
"Me too," Remus said.
"Aye," Andi added from the other side. "We would all do it to spare you that pain, Harry."
Harry couldn't help but glance at the old man opposite him. Dumbledore smiled at him, warmly.
"You have quite the family there, Mr Potter. You should be very proud of them."
"I am." He replied, squeezing Hermione's hand and smiling at the adults on either side. "I still don't believe in fate, but if it is real and it wants this confrontation to happen, I will be ready."
"If you require my assistance, you only need to ask," Dumbledore replied. "However, as this concluded far quicker than expected, I may ask that you all take your leave. As much of a threat as Riddle is, I still have a school year to finish preparing for. If we allow tyranny and terrorism to keep us from our lives, our enemies win."
He smiled at them all and Harry felt that one day, he may actually come to like the old man. But for now, he wanted to relax at home and enjoy the last portions of what had become a rather busy holiday.
Or, he thought, perhaps he could see if any of their friends were interested in a visit.
ϟ
Wednesday, 30th August 1995.
Albus entered the room at last and took the centre seat, leaving several of the others in the room confused.
"Shall we get started?" He asked, glancing at each of them in turn.
"Are we not waiting for Mr Potter?" Cornelius asked as he took his own seat opposite. Amelia and Saul sat on either side of the man, representing the bulk of the Ministry's defensive abilities.
"The Family has decided that those two have done enough." Sirius interrupted, and Albus could feel the man staring at him.
"Those two are enjoying what little remains of their school holiday with their friends," Remus added, taking one of the two free seats and gesturing for Sirius to take another.
Sirius had his pick, as there were three more to choose from. One to Remus's right and two to Albus's left. It did not take a genius to realise which one Black would choose.
"Surely we do not believe that a task such as this should fall to a fifteen-year-old boy?" Albus replied, regretting the fact that for so long he had practically done exactly that. "So far as we can tell, Mr Potter and Miss Granger have successfully rendered Tom mortal once more. We should be grateful for that and spare them a meeting with such a monster if we can."
"What has gotten into you?" Amelia asked, staring at him across the desk.
"Hope." Albus said with a smile.
Finally, Sirius stopped staring at Albus and took his seat. Albus smiled further at the action. Once, they had both trusted him utterly as members of the Order of the Phoenix. Aided him in his admittedly insufficient actions against Tom. Had he worked a bit harder, and connected the dots sooner, perhaps James would still be sitting here with them and no one would even know who Harry Potter was.
"This war should have ended by our hands twenty or thirty years ago. I failed to do that, and many have suffered as a result. We can see the end now, thanks in no small part to those two teenagers. I for one vote that we try to be as prepared as possible for whatever Tom might be planning so that we can be there, and end this for good."
Albus had known that this conversation was going to be difficult. There was a time when everyone in this room would have done exactly as he said without question. He had destroyed so many bridges over the past decades with his obsession. Now, he needed to convince them of the merits the old-fashioned way. Thankfully, he was a very old-fashioned man.
"Alright then," Cornelius said. "What is the plan?"
"Riddle continues to send out small attack forces," Amelia explained, opening the folder she had brought and inspecting the sheets within. "The Ready Response Force we set up has been able to react quickly to incoming reports and as a result, we have managed to capture quite a few of his forces. So much so that I've asked Saul to expand the lower level once again."
"Are we sure that using the basement here as a prison is a good idea?" Cornelius asked.
"Where else can we put it that we can protect?" Croaker chimed in.
"Any off-site location spreads our resources too thin." Amelia reinforced. "That was why the cells were chosen after Azkaban's destruction. It's temporary for now. But we can protect the cells and the Ministry with the same force. Given we were his primary target the last time that Riddle was active, we can assume that toppling the Ministry will still be a primary goal this time. If he gains control of this building, he can claim to be a legitimate government. And all his secondary goals become a lot easier to achieve with access to the country-wide magicks that we control from here."
"Have you reached out to your fellows?" Albus asked, looking at Cornelius.
The man had changed so much in the past two months. Before, he had always been sending Albus missives asking for guidance. Even occasionally coming all the way up to Hogwarts to seek advice. Albus had tried to be less involved in the Ministry after resigning his positions, and yet it was hard to find a way to avoid Fudge when he had a pressing matter on his mind.
Now, however, the man had a steel that Albus had never seen in him before. For the first time since he was elected, Albus felt that Cornelius Fudge had earned the title of Minister for Magic.
"My office has been making contact, but we've had to be cautious."
"Your office?" Sirius asked, a clear level of suspicion in the man's tone.
"I've had to be especially careful about who. Dolores saw herself let go last week with her repeated attempts to insert herself into matters. It worries me that I allowed myself to be blind to her ambition for so long."
Albus tried not to smile at the statement. He had long mistrusted Cornelius's forever tag-along. She had been a nightmare to deal with whenever Hogwarts business crossed anywhere near Ministry funding. And had been particularly miserable during the Tournament. It was a surprise, but a welcome one to see Cornelius part ways with the miserable woman.
"Those involved have my complete trust and know nothing of our other work." Cornelius continued, "They simply arrange the meeting times between myself and the other Ministers. Such discussions must be planned delicately so as not to rouse suspicion within our own ranks. So far, I've spoken to Minister Allard of France, who has committed to sending several Auror squads to bolster our own in any intentional push against Riddle. He has no desire to see this fall onto French soil again.
"Minister Meyer has also committed the services of a number of the German Unspeakables in their employ to aid Croaker's efforts to locate Riddle. Their memory of the troubles in the forties is long and they are eager to stop a new Dark Lord from acting within their borders. I'm still in discussions with three of our other neighbours for additional support. Although, Prime Magister Forrester from Australia and Vice Minister Brown of Canada have both come to us of their own accord and offered their full support in whatever we need. Seems Mr Potter made an impression on them during the First Task."
"Impressive efforts," Remus noted. The young man had endured much in his short life, but he definitely had a mind for strategy that had seen the Marauders fare well at Hogwarts. Albus regretted his misuse of the man as no more than a carrier of his curse during the first war. Hoping that his affliction would ingratiate him with those Riddle often sought to weaponize. "I've spoken with a few of the wolf clans as well."
This seemed to be news to everyone at the table except for Sirius, who just smirked.
"I have commitments to remain neutral from five of the British clans. Obviously, those who follow Greyback have already thrown in with Riddle. Two other clans are still considering Harry's offer."
"What offer?" Croaker asked.
Remus eyed the concealed head of the Department of Mysteries for a moment before he spoke. "An enclave, like the one we've made for abused house-elves."
Remus was watching all of them closely now. This was the first any of them had heard of such plans from the young Potter. Public sentiment on the subject of werewolves waxed and waned with the moon. Attacks during the full moon turned it sour and the lack during the much longer periods around the new moon allowed them to mostly forget.
However, if there was one name capable of pushing for werewolf rights with minimal pushback, it was probably Harry James Potter. Even if the general public had no idea of his efforts to secure the victory over Tom they currently worked for. His enduring fame for their first encounter was legend at this point, thanks to the Boy-Who-Lived books that had stirred a small kerfuffle earlier in the year. A stir that had only increased their popularity. And the lad's performance in the Tournament had only grown that legend.
Albus eyed Cornelius for almost a full minute as the silence from Remus's statement carried on. Both Amelia and Saul were watching him with equal attention, and it seemed that the entire Ministry response now hinged on what Fudge said next.
"That sounds excellent," Cornelius said at long last. "They would commit to the usage of such an enclave? During the full moon?"
"I think that you shall find," Remus said, a smirk covering his features as he glanced at Amelia, sharing some unknown joke. "...most of us are more than happy to live and let live. Harry is arranging for professional brewers to contract on who would provide an ample supply of Wolfsbane every full moon. And the boundaries of the enclave will be wolf-proof. We're dangerous one night a month. The rest of the year, we're treated like dirt because of it. Take away the prejudice and you'll be amazed how freely most of us will cooperate."
"Lycanthropy is a curse," Sirius added in obvious support of his friend. "A disease thrust upon nearly every werewolf within our borders, rarely by choice. We should do more to care for our fellows, instead of shunning them."
"Indeed. A spectacular sentiment." Albus echoed, earning another glance from Sirius.
Albus could not help but smile. His misaction had carved a deep divide between him and the young man. One that may never truly heal. But he could still feel pride at the achievements of those who had passed through his school. It seemed that young Mister Potter's time in the muggle world had shown him ways of treating his peers that the magical world would do well to emulate.
"Policy change on such a topic will be hard," Cornelius replied. "But, I think we can see it come to fruition."
Albus smiled even further. It seemed, without Umbridge spewing her hateful bile in his ear, that Cornelius could indeed do the right thing.
Apparently, Albus stepping back had been the correct course of action.