Surpassing Danger
Chapter 21: Of Love and Honor (Year 6)
By Anne B. Walsh
Maya Pritchard stifled a yawn behind her hand. Full moon wasn't for another week and a half, but Lee had been called away unexpectedly the night before by a sudden Red Shepherd mission (he hadn't given her details, and she knew better than to ask) and their little flat in Diagon Alley always felt empty to her without him there, so she hadn't slept well.
It didn't help that everyone else having breakfast in the Pepper Pot this morning seemed to know something she didn't. Percy had a look on his face she could only describe as a doting smirk, which should have been impossible but managed itself nicely on his features. Fred, George, and Danielle had their heads together over a timetable and were whispering to one another, pointing things out. Crystal kept whistling intricate bits of music which made Maya think of dancing fairies as she made sure everyone's plates were full. And Roger and Selena were grinning at each other over baby Zach's head every time they thought she wasn't looking.
What are they planning? If this had happened last Sunday, I'd think they were going to throw me a surprise party for my birthday, but they all gave me my gifts just like usual on Tuesday…
"What's Professor Black covering with you this year in N.E.W.T. Potions?" Danielle asked Selena across the table. "Just the standard curriculum, or did she mix it up a bit?"
"I think she mixed it up, though as I haven't been through the class before, I wouldn't know." Selena made a face at Danielle. "We did a whole section on potions that mimic spells…"
"Which we never covered, so I think you're safe to say she's changed things." Danielle nodded. "What sort of spells?"
"Oh, all sorts. There's one to help stop bleeding, like Episkey will do with a wand, one to help revive someone who's a bit groggy, like Ennervate—we were able to work from that one to get a better mix for the antidote patches on the potion pieces—even one that mimics the Body-Bind, though it wears off pretty quickly so I wouldn't recommend it for DA or Order use unless we could brew it up stronger. Works with contact or vapor, though, so that's a plus. And there's one that mimics the Animagus forcer spell."
"Always a good thing to have on hand, if you know anyone who's learning that," said Roger. "If they were to get caught in form, or even halfway between forms, you could transfigure them back before they were in danger of losing their human mind. And with the potion, you don't have to know the spell, which I understand is a tricky one."
"It is," Fred put in. "Nonverbal, multi-part, and not exactly the easiest thing to practice."
"It's a bit uncomfortable, being dragged out of your form," George added. "Feels different than a standard change. Different from being transfigured as well."
This led into a lively, all-hands conversation about the Animagus process and its downfalls, human transfiguration and the laws surrounding it, and the possibility of the war's impact on same. Maya let most of it flow past her. Her mind was busy puzzling at her friends' curious behavior.
And it isn't just them, either. Graham and Natalie were whispering together all through the train ride, and Bernie and her elflet friends have been looking tremendously excited every time they've seen me this holiday. So have Aunt Voni and Uncle Par, come to think. And didn't Lindz say something to Dean at King's Cross, something about making sure he knows where the nearest entry point for the Red Roads to his family's house is?
What in the world is going on here?
A rapping noise from the back room startled her. Crystal got up from the table and returned with a barn owl on her wrist, carrying a red envelope in its beak. Maya swallowed hard as she recognized a Howler, and again as she saw her own name written on the back. To her surprise, though, no one else looked worried. On the contrary, both twins had started to grin, and Selena was rocking Zach back and forth in time with Crystal's renewed whistling.
Were they expecting this?
She caught the envelope as the owl released it, tore it open, and quickly set it on the table.
"Good morning, Maya," said Lee's voice from the Howler, in normal tones. "Happy Easter. I'm sorry I can't be there in person, but it's bad luck for me to see you today. Or it will be, if everything goes the way I want it to."
Maya frowned, confused. Bad luck—what is he talking about? And what does he want to happen, or not happen—
"I asked you a question a little over a year ago, and you gave me an answer. I liked that answer a lot, and I'm hoping you'll give me the same one again, now that I'm asking with an extra word on the question." The sound of a deep breath, as though Lee were nerving himself up. "Maya Pritchard, will you marry me—today?"
"Today?" Maya squeaked as the Howler went up in a silent puff of smoke. She hated even thinking the word in connection with herself, but it was the only possible descriptor for the sound which had just come out of her. "But—but I'm not ready, I don't even have a dress—"
"Madam Malkin's will be open today, just for you," said Danielle, beaming. "Your aunt's already there, she's picked out a few dresses she thought would appeal to your tastes. All you have to do is choose one and they'll fit you up right there."
"Lee and Lindz are out collecting Dean and Natalie, and their families," Fred picked up the Quaffle. "Once they turn up, and Graham and his lot from Headquarters, we'll hang onto the boys here and send the girls over to get fitted out as bridesmaids."
"Red and royal blue," said Crystal, nodding. "Excellent color choices."
"How did you—" Maya whirled to glare at Selena. "You set me up," she snapped. "All those questions all year long while we were working on Sanctuary, all those casual little conversations about what I wanted it to be like when we finally got married, Lee and I—you set me up for this!"
"Guilty as charged." Selena leaned back in her seat, smiling faintly. "Does this mean you don't want me for maid of honor?"
Maya lowered her glare to the baby in Selena's arms. "Maid I don't think you can claim anymore, not with a straight face," she said. "And honor…only if you're a Slytherin."
"Which I am." Selena lifted Zach to kiss him. "Q.E.D. So, do you want me there or not? And is it even happening?"
"Do I want you where? Where in the world could Lee find for us to get married on this short of notice?"
"You mentioned it yourself," said Roger with a smile. "And it's not exactly short notice. He's been planning this for most of the year."
"Most of the—" Words momentarily failed Maya. While she was in the process of taking a deep breath to try to get them back, the place to which Roger was referring suddenly dawned on her.
"Sanctuary," she said in disbelief. "He wants us to get married in Sanctuary?"
"Why not?" George spread his hands. "Beautiful spot, magically important, needs as much good stuff as we can possibly cram in there…" He glanced over at Crystal. "Not a bad idea, really. Especially if you set things up for just the right time of day so the light's coming through one or another of those bits of stained glass, whichever one you like best."
Percy cleared his throat before Crystal's speculative expression could translate itself into words. "I believe there's a question still unanswered here," he said when everyone looked at him. A wave of his hand indicated the ashes of the Howler. "Will you, Maya?"
Maya closed her eyes and made herself consider the question calmly and rationally. It wasn't easy. Half of her wanted desperately to draw her wand or her potion piece and go looking for Lee to beat him senseless, while the other half wanted to find him for the purpose of kissing him into precisely that same state. It wasn't fair of him to ask her so soon, so suddenly, to take away all the fun of planning for the wedding—
But he made sure he knew how I wanted it done. He got Aunt Voni and Selena and all the rest of the girls to help him. And the "fun" of wedding planning is usually more than half frustration if I understand it right. Besides, we've been engaged for over a year, it's not like we're rushing headlong into this!
And, she had to admit, if she had seen this scenario written down in a novel somewhere, she would have sighed a little over how romantic it was.
Which it is. Also annoying, and breathtaking, in both senses of that word, the good and the bad. But overall, I think there's only one answer I can honestly give.
She opened her eyes and looked at her friends, her Pridemates, her fellow Red Shepherds.
"Yes," she said. "Yes, I'll marry Lee. Today."
Fred let out a whoop of glee and leapt up to start dancing around the room. George joined him, but only after winking broadly at Crystal. Percy sighed through his teeth, then got up, pushed in his chair, and headed for the Vanishing Cabinet. "I'll be at Sanctuary if anyone's looking for me," he informed the room over his shoulder. "There are bound to be a few last-minute details that need to be handled."
"What's with him?" Danielle asked, frowning as the Vanishing Cabinet closed with a click behind Percy's heels. "I mean, not that there won't be things to do at Sanctuary, but he's acting like he doesn't want to be here…"
"Penny." George stopped dancing. "Merlin's ear hair, we never thought of that. Today's bound to make him think of Penny."
Fred grimaced. "Hard lines on him," he said sympathetically. "But it's not fair to Lee and Maya to put that on their day. Your day," he corrected in Maya's direction.
"So, he's not." Crystal nodded towards the Vanishing Cabinet. "He's staying involved, doing his part, but as long as he's there alone, or mostly so, he can tell himself he's just setting up for a party of some kind. He'll probably leave before the rest of us get there."
"Hope he's over it by this time next month, at least enough to hold himself together through a ceremony." George shaped a tower with his hands. "Ginny won't like it one bit if we aren't all there at her wedding."
"But that being a month from now, and today being today, we need to get on with things," said Selena, standing up briskly and handing Zach to his father. "Come on, Maya—time to turn you into a bride!"
A bride. Maya let her friends pull her to her feet, let them escort her out into the sunny spring morning, let them sweep her down Diagon Alley, and slowly the truth sank in, bringing a disbelieving smile to her face, an almost unbearable lightness in her chest. I'm going to be a bride. I'm getting married. Today. Bernie and Echo will scatter petals for me, and Uncle Par will walk me down the aisle—everybody in the year will probably be there, and all the Red Shepherds, and some of the Order of the Phoenix too—but none of that's the most important thing.
The most important thing will be waiting for me at the end of that walk. And when we stand there wand-to-wand and make those promises together, the whole world will know what I mean to him. What we mean to each other.
"Mrs. Maya Jordan," she murmured aloud, trying it out. "Lee and Maya Jordan."
It sounded, she decided, quite good.
But I'm still going to get him back for this.
Harry waved his wand through a four-sided pattern, keeping his mind focused on what he wanted the magic to do. One—lift a wooden chair from the top of the stack Ron had levitated into place beside him. Two—float the chair down the row until it was next to the other chairs he'd already placed. Three—lower the chair into place. Four—add a ribbon bow to the back of the chair, bright red if the last one had been royal blue, or vice versa.
And repeat.
On the other side of the aisle Lee's carefully drawn diagram had delineated, Hermione and Ginny were performing the same office, while Luna and Draco hoisted flower-covered arches into place along the length of the aisle itself. Neville and Meghan followed them, ensuring the flowers were in their fullest, most luxurious bloom, and would remain so through the time of the ceremony, scheduled for two in the afternoon. Coincidentally, that would bring the sunlight over Hogwarts pouring in through the Gryffindor stained glass crest, under which the platform had been erected on which Lee and Maya would stand.
Elsewhere in Sanctuary, Harry knew, other members of the year were overseeing the decorating of the largest dining hall for the early dinner reception, checking with the house-elves to make sure the food preparations were well underway, preparing the individual sleeping areas which had been completed before Easter holidays for any of the adult attendees who might enjoy a little too much of their favorite beverage and need a place to stay for the night. And as far as he was aware—he rapped his knuckles against one of the chairs as it went past—everything was, so far, going well.
I'd call it a practice run for Ginny's and mine, but ours won't be anywhere near this elaborate. There'll be plenty going on that day, but all the attention should be focused on the Gryffindor May Day Fete. Not on us, and that's just the way we wanted it.
Continuing his careful gestures, he let his eyes wander across the aisle, to Ginny, her wand rock-steady as she directed another stack of chairs towards Hermione. For all that she loved to be watched while she was doing what she did well, Harry knew his fiancée was at heart a private person, unwilling to put her emotions on public display.
And I'm with her all the way on that one. We're getting married… He paused for the uprush of worried, astonished joy that filled him every time he consciously thought about this fact. Yes, yes, wonderful, amazing, but I don't want everybody and his pet kneazle coming to stare at us. And they would, if we gave them half a chance. I am, after all, a celebrity. "The Boy Who Lived".
But it's not "The Boy Who Lived" getting married next month. It's me, Harry Potter. Finishing a row, he hoisted the remaining stack of chairs with his wand, moved back two paces, and started a new one. So let's keep the attendance at the ceremony limited to the people who actually know the difference between the two. My Pack, Ginny's family, and our Pride. Full stop. Reception here in Sanctuary sometime that day, for yearmates only. Ex-yearmates by that point, really—our wedding is the last thing in the year, the spell will officially be broken—
He grinned to himself. "Which means," he said aloud, "that the Ministry won't be able to do Traces anymore."
"Thinking about the year?" Ginny asked from the aisle. "And about me, maybe?"
"How could you tell?"
"Your color's slipping." With a small smirk, Ginny pointed to Harry's last few red bows, which matched not the vibrant crimson of the Gryffindor crest but the warm, bright shade of her hair. "Might want to fix that."
Harry made a face at her and shot a non-verbal Color Changer at each offending bow, restoring them to the proper shade of red. "There," he said as the last one hit. "Fixed. Did you just come over to tease me, or was there something else?"
"Well, teasing you is always good. But." The cheer slid away from Ginny's face as she beckoned Harry nearer. "I had a message," she said quietly when he was within earshot. "Professor Dumbledore would like to see us in his office. Immediately, if we can be spared. Hermione says she and Ron can finish here, there isn't much more to do…"
"And as important as Lee and Maya are, Dumbledore doesn't say 'immediately' for nothing." Harry slid the grip end of his wand into his sleeve, letting his holster's magic pull it into place, and hurried towards the cave which hid the passage to the fourth floor mirror, Ginny at his side. "Did he say what it was about?"
"Not in so many words. But I have a guess." Horcruxes, Ginny signed when Harry turned to look at her. Goblins. Answer.
"Right."
And that would merit an "immediately". You don't keep goblins waiting.
Harry picked up his pace a little.
"Toothflossing Stringmint" sent the gargoyle outside the Head's office leaping out of the way, and Harry and Ginny stepped onto the revolving staircase. On the way up, Ginny brushed a few stray bits of ribbon off Harry's shoulders and Harry finger-combed a tangle or two out of Ginny's hair. They looked each other over at the top, nodded once, and approached the door.
"Come in," Dumbledore called before Ginny's hand could touch the knocker.
"How does he do that?" Harry murmured.
Ginny raised an eyebrow at him. "Magic," she returned without cracking a smile, and opened the door.
"Harry, Ginny, thank you for coming so quickly," said Dumbledore, standing behind his desk. "We have guests, whom I believe you may already know."
The scent in the air, cool and vaguely metallic, gave Harry his first intimation that Ginny's guess was right. He squeezed her hand as they stepped around Dumbledore's visitor's chairs together.
"Rarzal," he said, bowing in time with Ginny's curtsey. "Kunora."
"Harry Potter. Ginny Weasley." Rarzal nodded to them, Kunora dipping her knees slightly, making her skirts sway. "Those with rank in the clans have conferred, and I bring you their answer."
Harry schooled his face to composure, though the messages coming to him through his sense of smell were not conducive to this exercise. The main emotional notes in Rarzal's scent seemed to be annoyance and determination, while from Kunora he could catch nerves and a determination matching her husband's. But a distinct overtone wafted through the air as well, one he associated with a very particular act on the part of his Pack-fathers, his own Pride-mates, or Fred and George. A slight quiver at the corner of Ginny's mouth told him she had caught it as well, and found it just as amusing, if baffling, as Harry did.
Because for a goblin woman to come here smelling like she's about to play the greatest prank in the history of the world…
"We thank you for your information, and will act on it as we see fit." Rarzal bowed more fully this time, splitting the honors between Harry and Ginny. "Such is the answer of the ranked members of the clans, and thus you may tell anyone who asks. Now, I take my leave." A quick exchange with Kunora in Gobbledegook, a bow to Dumbledore, and Rarzal was at the fireplace, tossing in a sprinkle of Floo powder. "Gringotts Bank!"
Thanks for telling us, we'll handle it? That's all we get? Harry stared at the green flames into which Rarzal had disappeared, trying not to let his anger and disappointment show. We went out of our way to tell you about this, and you're just going to—
He caught his mental rant before it could go any further and pulled his thoughts back to what had just happened, rather than what he believed about it.
All right, we got the answer from the leaders of the goblins, the answer that we're supposed to tell people about. But who'd be asking? Who'd want to know—
As he drew a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, Kunora's prankster delight teased his sense of smell once again. Beside him, Ginny was starting to smile, and whiffs of excitement, of anticipation, exuded from her.
What does she know that I don't?
Harry looked back at the goblin woman. She was gazing upwards, apparently entranced by the height of Dumbledore's office, by the portraits of past Heads which lined the walls, by the shelves filled with books and intricate magical machinery. "It is the work of goblin men," she said softly, "to guard our people's reputation, the appearance we present in the eyes of the world. And so my partner has just done. But." She began to turn slowly in a circle, her voice taking on the sound of a recitation, almost a chant. "It is the work of goblin women to preserve our people's honor. The knowledge we hold of ourselves and our actions." Her glance over her shoulder, towards Harry and Ginny, was full of the mischief that matched her scent. "And so I shall now do."
A familiar floating sensation took over Harry's midsection, similar to what he'd experienced in the moment of his first successful Patronus casting, or when he'd realized Horace Slughorn was giving him the memory Dumbledore needed. Ginny's grasp was tighter than ever on his hand, and Harry could hear the little jagged exhalations which meant she was stifling gleeful giggles.
If we hadn't paid attention to what Aunt Amy told us…if we hadn't both gone to the talks, or thought to pay attention to Kunora, or to be as polite as they were…
"My oaths forbid me from speaking goblin secrets to any living being," Kunora added, still spinning slowly in place. "So I believe that I shall speak…" One long finger pointed upwards, towards the corner of a bookshelf. "…to this Hat. If you will allow it," she added to Dumbledore.
"Certainly, madam." Dumbledore drew his wand and levitated the Sorting Hat down from its hook to the corner of his desk. Kunora climbed into one of the visitor's chairs and sat on its edge, regarding the Hat closely.
"Good day, Hat," she said. The Hat inclined its tip to her politely. "Shall I tell you a tale of Gringotts? Of the vaults and the corridors, the cart-tracks and the safeguards? Shall I tell you a tale of magic deep and strong, and how it is that goblins preserve what is given to them for safekeeping? I believe that I shall."
Unobtrusively, as he seated himself, Dumbledore made a small swirling motion with his wand, and two more chairs appeared behind Harry and Ginny. They sat as well, Harry releasing Ginny's hand for a moment to disentangle his shoe from the hem of his robes.
"Those goblins who enter the employ of Gringotts swear three oaths, three oaths in the deepest of magic," Kunora continued, still in her reciting tone, her voice soft and thoughtful as she kept her eyes fixed firmly on the Hat. "The first is an oath of fidelity, that they will keep faith with one another and with the wizards who give them their trust. The second is an oath of sharing, that they will help one another in the doing of such magic as will make the vaults safer for all goblinkind. The third is an oath of sealing, by which they dedicate their very lives to the fulfillment of the first two oaths. And this final oath is sworn, must be sworn…" Her lip curled in distaste. "…in the bodies and persons of those goblins who swear, that it may govern their lives with every beat of their hearts."
Ginny tugged out her pendant chain and held it where Harry could see it. He nodded and slid it quickly over his head. So three deep magic oaths bind Gringotts goblins to the bank, but only the third one changes the blood in their bodies, he said once they were connected. Sound familiar at all?
Maybe just a little. Ginny grinned and flashed a brief mental image of a pair of people. The tiniest bit.
"No one who is not so sworn, three times in blood and once in the very blood of her body, may enter a Gringotts vault without a goblin's help." Kunora smiled. "But that is not the only way the vaults are guarded, depths below us, no! There are the shafts and the carts, which all wizards have seen and know, and which only goblins may guide…but other things than carts may move along open shafts, if there were some way that they would not be seen…"
Broomsticks, Harry said promptly. Broomsticks, and Disillusionments, or the Cloak. One of us goes openly to Gringotts to make a withdrawal, and the two who'll be doing the actual work sneak along under the Cloak, and fly out of the cart whenever they get the chance…
One of them doesn't fly that well, Ginny objected. Though I suppose she could always ride on his shoulders, the way she used to do on Ron's. He's a good enough flyer to compensate for that. Or they could just ride double.
"But, of course, the path to the deepest vaults is guarded by more than simply depth and open space." Kunora nodded gravely. "Simply finding one's way about is the first challenge. The Gringotts carts can find any vault they are asked to, but an intruder, without help, will swiftly be lost within the maze of shafts, and never find his way either to daylight or to his desired destination." Her small hand reached out to the desk and slid a piece of folded parchment deftly under the Hat.
And that would be known as help. Ginny was almost purring over the link. What do you want to bet it's turn-by-turn directions to the vault we need?
I don't take sucker bets. Try that one on your brother.
That's not very nice.
What? You've got six of them, and I didn't specify. You can pick whichever one you don't like today.
"Along the way, an intruder, or intruders, must also confront the Thief's Downfall." Kunora gestured as though drawing something down from the sky. "A torrent of enchanted water, which washes away all disguises and halts all unauthorized traffic. It will not harm any who are blood-sworn, but anything they might be using to hide themselves will be lost to them if they do not take care."
Disillusionments, then. I'm not losing my Cloak if I can help it.
"And once they pass that obstacle, there is the vault's ultimate guardian to consider." Kunora tapped her fingers together, tilting her head to one side. "For it has been taught to attack anything larger than a goblin which comes there alone. A goblin may drive it back with the proper sounds to which it has been trained, but should any human try it, though they had the very noisemakers my people use…" She shivered delicately. "To be eaten by a dragon is no fate I would wish even on a thief."
Ginny stiffened. Bill would never tell us if it was true they used dragons…
Probably because they don't "train" them very nicely, Harry guessed. And he knew what Charlie would have to say about that. But did you hear how she led off this bit? That the dragon would attack anything larger than a goblin?
Yes, but humans are— Ginny broke off, and Harry felt the mental equivalent of her hand contacting her forehead. Humans are, she repeated. But cats and foxes aren't.
"Though the dragon is fed on the last day of every month," Kunora added. "After which it is always sleepy. Slower to move. Unwilling to expend its energy on prey so small that merely catching it would use up more than eating it will yield."
Last day of every month…I don't think we could pull this together by tomorrow. So we'll have to make it next month. 30 April, the day before the year ends. The day before we do what Lee and Maya are doing today. Harry squeezed Ginny's hand, pressing a finger lightly against her ring. Won't that be a fun stag night for me?
Yes, it will. Ginny twitched her head, setting her silver-twist earrings swaying on either side of her smirk. And I think the chance to get rid of a Horcrux is about the nicest wedding present anybody could give us.
"The wizards and witch whose vault this is have laid their own magic on the items within it as well." Kunora glowered briefly, as though she were offended that the goblins' clients should find it necessary to take further precautions beyond that which the goblins themselves could provide. "Wanded spells, one of duplication—creating worthless copies of any item within the vault which is touched by a living being, enough to bury an unwary thief alive if care is not taken—and one of burning, to make even the copies painful to that same touch. But what wands may lay, wands may take away."
And if there's anyone who can look up spells like that, and learn the counter-charms to them, in one month or less, it's Hermione. Harry snickered mentally. With Moony and Danger to help her if she needs it.
Plus I think she just handed us a great big hint as to whose vault we're plundering. Ginny replayed Kunora's words of a moment before. Take wizards, plural, and witch, singular, add in Death Eaters, the sort Voldemort trusts as much as he does anybody, and old-family purebloods who'd have the deepest vaults at Gringotts, and what do you get?
Harry had to fight to keep his whoop of glee silent as it came to him, and couldn't quite manage to restrain the grin. The Lestranges. It has to be. Merlin's boots, I wish we could tell Padfoot, he'd get such a kick out of this…
After the war, Ginny murmured, sending a calming caress across the link. After we win.
Kunora sighed deeply. "Sadly, only one of the items about which there was question is currently housed at Gringotts, or any other goblin institution," she said, with what sounded like true regret. "The cloak-pin in the form of the eagle was wrought by my people, certainly—the records of its making still exist—but we have no record of it being under our care at any time after that." She turned to look at Harry and Ginny. "Should it be located, we would be grateful to be informed."
"We'll do that," Harry said aloud, as Ginny nodded. "Thanks for looking."
"You are welcome." Kunora returned her attention to the Sorting Hat. "And thank you, sir Hat, for listening so well to my tale," she said with a smile.
"My pleasure," the Hat returned.
Harry felt Ginny's shock through the chain. What? he asked. If it can sing and shout, it ought to be able to talk normally.
Yes, but I wasn't expecting it! And stop laughing at me!
I'm not laughing at you.
Not out loud, but you are. Ginny glowered at him. I can feel it.
"And now I must take my leave." Kunora slid down from the chair, as Dumbledore returned the Hat to its hook. "My partner and our children will be wondering what has become of me."
"Give them our best, please," said Ginny, retrieving her pendant chain and sparing Harry a single dirty look before she went to one knee in front of Kunora and held out her hand. "And thank you, very much."
"It is quite truly my pleasure, Ginny Weasley." Kunora shook Ginny's hand, her smile as fierce as Ginny's own. "When this war is ended, we must speak more, you and I. Perhaps you could bring your clan-sisters, and I could bring mine, and we could do together those things women do to which men are not admitted…"
"A Girls' Night?" Ginny suggested. "Lots of chocolate, and fruity drinks, and talking about all the things our mothers still think we're too young to know?"
"I see the idea is not new to you." Kunora nodded briskly. "I believe it would be enjoyable. And informative, to both sides."
"Definitely. So that's a date." Ginny sat back on her heels. "Look me up as soon as we get this war finished. Which will be sooner, with what you told the Hat just now."
"As I thought." Kunora inclined her head to Harry, who bowed in reply. "Our thanks to you, Harry Potter, for that work which you will do and for that honor which you have shown us," she said softly. "I and mine stand in your debt for this, and will seek to repay you at the earliest time we may."
Harry managed not to goggle at the goblin woman, but it was a near thing. From what Aunt Amy had told them, goblins acknowledged debts to humans about as often as Snape gave points to Gryffindor. "I…thank you," he answered after a moment spent regaining his composure. "Though if you really want to pay me back…" He smiled, thinking of the place far below his feet where he would later today watch two of his friends join their lives. "There's this project we've been working on for a while now, here at Hogwarts. It's underground, and it needs to be as safe as we can make it. And everybody knows, if you want to keep things safe underground, you ought to be talking to the goblins…"
A lull in the preparations about one-fifteen gave Maya her first chance to catch her breath, and she slipped out into the main area of Sanctuary after being assured by Dean that Lee was out in Hogsmeade checking on the security arrangements and wouldn't be back for at least ten more minutes.
The yearmates and their families were starting to drift in from the various entrances, choosing seats and chattering to one another, half-blood and Muggleborn students pointing out to Muggle parents and relations the features of Sanctuary which would have been impossible without magic. Maya kept her face angled away, hoping they would take her, in her plain black day robes still, for a bridesmaid or even a server, and wandered along the edge of the cavern until she saw a familiar figure. Graham, also in day robes, stood with his hands in his pockets, gazing up at the Slytherin crest.
"Have you threatened Lee yet?" she teased lightly as she came up beside him. "Told him if he hurts me, he'll have to answer to you?"
"We're going to do that right beforehand, Dad and I. Dean and Roger said they'd chip in too. Solidarity, you know." Graham glanced over at her before returning his eyes to the symbol of his House, high above them. "Did you ever wonder where we went so wrong?" he asked softly. "Slytherins, I mean. We're supposed to want to do great things with our lives. And this—" He waved a hand at the expanse of Sanctuary behind them. "This is a great thing. But a full three-quarters of my Housemates are too taken up with their stupid feuds and petty revenges to even suspect that it exists, and they couldn't be trusted with the knowledge anyway. And at least half of them would want to destroy it as soon as they knew what it was for. Since when is destruction greatness?"
"It's not." Maya slipped her arm around her cousin for a brief side-hug. "But I can see how they could be fooled into thinking it is. Into believing that there's only one proper way to be great, and anything beyond or besides that isn't true, isn't right, and needs to be destroyed. As for where it started…" She sighed. "I suppose it was with Salazar Slytherin himself. But he wasn't always that way, Graham, he can't have been. He helped to build the castle, didn't he? And there have been plenty of good Slytherins since then. The sort who use their ambition, instead of letting it use them." She looked down—not nearly as far as she'd once had to look—and smiled at him. "Like you."
"Thanks." Graham leaned into her for a moment. "I just wish…" He shrugged. "I wish I knew something I could do. Something big enough, and important enough, that it would change everyone's minds about Slytherins. Even Slytherins. Something that would make us look at ourselves differently, and see what we really are, and what we could be if we tried."
A brief chill brushed down Maya's spine, making her shiver.
"Are you all right?" Graham asked.
"Fine, I'm fine." Maya rolled her shoulders, trying to dismiss the feeling. "An Augurey flew over my grave, that's all. Come on, I have to be out of sight before Lee gets back, and we should be getting dressed in any case…"
Draco sipped from his cup of punch and listened with half an ear to a story with which Selena was regaling a mixed group of yearmates about an ongoing revenge chain of increasingly nastier pranks, apparently involving most of the older students in Slytherin House by now.
I thought a lot of the Snakes weren't paying as much attention in class as they usually do. This might be why. Wonder what started it all off? Just that stupid thing from back in the fall about Pansy Parkinson's brother and that girl they hired to take care of their cars? He stifled a smile. Though "just" is hardly the word, when a precious pureblood wizard has run away with a tainted, poisonous Muggle! Well, good for him. I hope, wherever they are, they're making it work.
Finishing his drink, he started back towards the buffet to get a refill, when a tableau in the corner of the dining hall caught his eye. Padfoot was almost knee-to-knee with a strong-featured woman Draco couldn't name, about his mothers' age but darker-skinned than Letha, dressed in Muggle clothes, her face set in determined lines and her hands moving in careful gestures as she explained something. As he watched, Padfoot pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and passed it over, and the woman pressed it against the corners of her eyes.
Do I know her? I don't think I know her…but I know someone who looks like her…
Just then, the woman smiled, and Draco's half-recognition coalesced.
Dean. She looks like Dean. Probably his mum, I know Lee invited all his Pridemates' families. But what would she be talking to Padfoot about, that would make her cry, and then smile, and—
A sudden suspicion hit him. Glancing around the room until he spotted Hermione, he strolled casually in her direction, waiting a few steps back until she could finish her conversation with Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott, then beckoning her over when she looked his way. "Something wrong?" she asked when she was close enough to speak without being overheard.
"Not wrong. A bit weird, though. If I'm right." Draco pointed a shoulder in the direction of Padfoot and Mrs. Thomas. "Remember how I told Dean we might be related?"
"Yes?"
"Possibly we're a good bit closer than I thought we were."
Dun dun DUN!
Just kidding. The identity of Dean's father will be a minor plot arc at best, but enough people asked about it that I thought I'd toss it in for fun. But yes, as you can see, the plot is stirring up quite well, and the Bad Things begin in earnest next chapter! Please encourage me to write them soon, because the sooner they're written, the sooner they can get resolved!