Chapter 41: It's Happening
Grimmauld Place, November 4th 1997
I feel light-headed, my eyes feel heavy and my mouth feels like it's filled with cotton. I try to swallow past the dryness and rawness in there, and I know I've been screaming my lungs off before losing consciousness.
There is a soft touch; a soothing sensation against my forehead, but it disappears after a while, leaving behind a dull ache, right where my scar is; as if someone ripped it open and carelessly sewed it back together.
I force my eyes open, fighting against the exhaustion. And I see him. Regulus.
He's sitting next to me, on his bed, where I'm tucked into.
"Potter?" He asks quietly, a concerned pair of grey eyes moving across my face.
"Mmh," I grunt, turn my head towards him, and immediately press my eyes closed as a sharp pain slashes through my scull. "Fuck," I breathe, somewhat paralysed by the pain.
The soothing sensation is back. I take in a deep breath, feel myself relaxing. With great effort, I open my eyes again. His hand rests against my forehead, his eyes watching mine carefully.
"Water," I croak, knowing better now to not move an inch.
Regulus nods, wandlessly summoning a goblet from the bedside table, and as he does so, the pain flares back to my forehead.
I let out a small grunt of pain, but drink the water, and then accept a phial with the familiar yellow potion from him, tossing it down quickly.
"Better?" Regulus asks quietly, almost hesitantly, before flicking his wrist to send the goblet and phial back to the bedside table.
As the healing potion takes effect, and the pain slowly ebbs away, I realise he had done something with his hands – a wandless healing charm of sorts.
I give him an assessing look. There're dark circles under his eyes, and he looks as exhausted as I feel.
"This is becoming a habit," I murmur, a lazy smile lifting the corners of my mouth.
Regulus huffs quietly, and then gives me a pointed look. "Something I take no pleasure in, I assure you," He mutters, and then a small frown appears between his brows. "How are you feeling?"
The worst of the pain is gone, but my head is still somewhat spinning, and my mind is an open mess. Something not even the healing potion can help with, but only time, and, well, I suppose Occlumency. I give Regulus a mild shrug.
"I'll live," I tell him, my voice still hoarse, and quickly continue as his frown deepens, "What day is it?"
Regulus gives me a mildly surprised look. "Tuesday." He says slowly, and gives me a scrutinising look. "How much do you remember?"
I lick my lips and look away…thinking back to the last memory I can recall; Voldemort, in his office, accompanied by Bellatrix. Voldemort; telling Bellatrix that Wormtail has fulfilled his assignment most exceedingly. Voldemort; ordering Bellatrix to stay put as he is about to leave to take care of something that could possibly grow into a threat if he doesn't act now. Voldemort; thinking that on that night, he will finally finish what he has started decades ago…
I saw him. I saw them.
I saw Voldemort, gliding along the main street of Godric's Hollow; its shop windows covered in spiderwebs and the corners of the houses decorated with carved pumpkins. I saw him reach the house – saw him watch my dad through the window, where he was playing with his son…with me. I saw my mum entering the room, smiling to the pair, gently running her fingers through my father's hair as she spoke to him. I saw my father lifting me up, placing a kiss on my cheek, before handing me to my mum, who stepped away from the room. To take me to the nursery…To wish me goodnight for the last time.
I saw my father, sitting down on the sofa, stretching his back, unaware of what was about to happen.
And then – I saw Voldemort kill my father. My father, who didn't even have a wand on him, who yelled to my mum to run, to take me with her and flee. My father, who dropped to the floor the moment Voldemort's wand flashed green.
Moments later, I saw my mother, trying to shield me with her arms, wandless, defenceless. I saw her pleading Voldemort to kill her instead. To have mercy. But Voldemort killed her, like he did my dad. I saw the life leaving her eyes, saw them turn empty.
Then there was Voldemort, watching curiously the threat leaning against the bars of a crib. Voldemort, pointing his wand at me and casting the curse.
And then there was only pain.
That is the last thing I remember.
I swallow hard, blinking rapidly as grief and unfairness wash over me. I turn my gaze back to Regulus, and he nods slowly, knowing that I remember what he saw, what we both saw.
He gently takes my hand in his. "I'm sorry," He whispers, his thumb brushing my knuckles, his eyes tracking the movement.
I take in a shuddering breath, and can't stop the tears anymore. There's so much sorrow, so much anger and despair inside me, that I want to yell. I press my eyes closed, swallowing against the lump in my throat, swallowing down the urge to scream. Why me? Why were they taken from me?
I feel his fingertips against the line of my jaw, feel his palm against my cheek. He doesn't say anything, but merely stays there, holding me, as I take in heaving breaths, and mourn silently for the loss of my parents.
After a long while, after the worst of those feelings have passed, I blink my eyes open, and see Regulus watching me with deep concern.
I clear my throat and move to sit up, to lean against the headboard. Regulus removes his hand and I quickly brush away the wetness from my cheeks.
I watch my lap as I put into words a thought that has been pressing my mind since I woke up. "Is it pathetic that I'm glad I saw it?" I ask quietly, grimacing slightly.
Regulus lets out a small sigh and moves on the bed; situating himself next to me, leaning against the headboard. "No." He says, watching me on the corner of his eyes. "Not if it consoles you."
"Did – um – seeing him…Sirius. Did it console you?" I ask, remembering how Regulus had forced himself through the wards in my mind, his need to see the memory of his brother so fierce, that it was nearly painful.
I almost regret my question, as I feel him stiffening next to me. I recall how he had reacted after seeing his brother falling through the Veil. It took him weeks to get back to normal. We were barely speaking during that time…
Brilliant. Why the bloody hell did I have to bring it up?
Regulus lets out a long sigh. "It didn't. But – I had to see it. Not knowing how it happened, not witnessing it – it was something that had been bothering me for a long time," he says, looking straight ahead. He swallows hard. "It didn't console me. I just…know now," he says quietly, turning to look at me, the weariness evident in his gaze.
I give him a slow nod. I can understand his way of thinking. But for me, it's not only about seeing how it happened. It's also about seeing them. I have no memories of my parents, other than what I've seen in Snape's mind, and now in Voldemort's. And how sad is that, to see them only through my enemies?
"Hermione asked me to inform her and Ronald at the moment of your awakening," Regulus says after a short moment, watching me closely. "May I send a word to them?"
I hastily agree, and watch in mild admiration as Regulus conjures his Patronus – the lion – and gives it a message to be delivered to Hermione. As the silvery lion disappears through the door, leaving behind darkness and silence, I lean my head against Regulus's shoulder, and wonder if Hermione and Ron have seen his Patronus before, and how they will react to it.
Five minutes later, the door bursts open, and a scowling Ron stomps into the room, cursing under his breath. Hermione follows him, looking rather harried.
So…they probably hadn't seen it before.
"Harry!" Hermione then squeaks, and runs across the room, throwing herself on the other side of the bed before pulling me into a warm embrace. I feel the bed shifting on Regulus's side, and know that he has stood up. "Thank Godric! We were so worried!" Hermione gasps, her voice trembling.
I glance on the other side, and see Ron sitting close to where Regulus had been only moments earlier. "Yeah, mate," Ron says quietly, the scowl now vanished, and replaced with concern and uneasiness.
"I'm fine," I mumble against Hermione's neck, and give Ron a reassuring nod.
Ron's mouth quirks slightly up, and he lets out a relieved sigh. "Thank Merlin…you made us a bit wound up here for a bit…"
Hermione pulls away, and takes a seat next to me, giving me a scrutinising look. "Are you feeling all right? Like you are…you?" She asks hesitantly.
I give her a shrug. "I'm fine," I tell her, and then add, "I'm me."
Hermione relaxes an inch, but there's still a worried glint in her gaze. "Do you remember – "
"Yeah." I say tightly, knowing what she's about to ask by the careful tone in her voice. I'm really not in the mood for a repeat of what happened with Regulus only moments ago. I vaguely remember what else I saw; more conversations between Bellatrix and Voldemort, and of course, what happened at Hogwarts.
He has the wand. Voldemort has the unbeatable wand now.
I swallow down the dread that threatens to overpower me, and instead turn my gaze at Regulus; who is standing further in the room, close to his writing desk, watching me closely.
I clear my throat. "Um…" I grunt, finding myself somewhat reluctant to go over the memories.
"I told Hermione and Ronald what I saw in his mind," Regulus says with an expressionless voice, his grey eyes moving between mine. "He gave it to her. The cup," he continues, and I give him a nod, knowing that I had seen it as well, even though I can barely pull up the images into the forefront of my mind.
"My cousin told the Dark Lord that she would keep it safe, hidden somewhere only he would have access to," Regulus says slowly.
Hermione clears her throat. "We think it could be –"
"Gringotts." I say quickly, and Hermione gives me an eager nod.
"Well, yes – it would certainly fit the part; safe, hidden somewhere with only a selected people to access it. Not to mention what you told us about your research with Dumbledore…You-Know-Who was probably planning it in the first place," Hermione explains hastily, excitement shining in her gaze.
Ron huffs next to me. "Bloody well planned, if you ask me…" He grumbles.
Hermione rolls her eyes at Ron. "No, what I mean, is that Gringotts is probably one of the few places in the Wizarding Britain, V – You-Know-Who – has been unable to seize to himself, as it is not ruled by wizards, but Goblins," she explains. "It must have been bothering him; growing up without stepping a foot inside that magical building, where so many wizarding families – many of which became his followers – had ties to. And he must've heard about what is rumoured to keep guard there, for the oldest of vaults," She finishes.
"Not a rumour," Regulus mutters.
Hermione lifts her brows in astonishment, while I give him a puzzled look.
Ron coughs loudly. "What?!"
Grimmauld Place, November 6th 1997
"I still think that using her – Narcissa – is barking mad," Ron states from the sofa, after we have gathered into the library seating area, to plan our next mission; breaking into Gringotts.
During the past two days, after finding out about Voldemort's memories, we have been trying to think of a way to retrieve the cup from Gringotts, where we assume it is stored, inside Bellatrix's vault. Last night, Regulus brought up the possibility that we could use Narcissa to get into Gringotts. As a Black – and one that is officially alive and not in danger of exposing oneself – she would have access to the family vaults.
Naturally, Hermione, Ron and I were all against the idea, as it is Narcissa, we are talking about. One of Voldemort's followers. Why would she help us? We argued, until Regulus informed us that should we decide to use her, we would be placing her under the Imperius curse.
Something I find both unnerving and intriguing.
"I mean, we don't even know if she can get into Bellatrix's vault," Ron continues, "from what I understood, you do have several of them?" He says, lifting his brows at Regulus, who sits opposite to us, in an armchair.
Hermione hums thoughtfully next to Regulus. "Yes, and it could be in some other vault entirely – or not even in Gringotts," She says slowly, her brows pulled together. "…But where else could it be?" She adds, glancing at us unsurely, repeating the words each of us has spoken at least once during the past two days.
Regulus clears his throat. "The Black vaults are one of the most secure ones in Gringotts. If she were to store anything in the establishment, she would not have placed the cup anywhere else. Not even the Lestrange vaults," He says steadily.
"Okay, then, so Narcissa can get into Gringotts? Would she have access to the vault itself? Why would Bellatrix use a vault someone else has access to?" Ron asks, suspicion in his voice.
"She would not. However, there is a spell," Regulus says with an unreadable look. "A spell that was taught to the Head of House, to have access in the Black family personal vaults if they deemed it necessary."
I arch a brow at him. "You guys sure trust each other…" I mutter.
Hermione throws me a wry glance before speaking to Regulus. "How do you know the spell? And isn't Bellatrix aware of it? Would it even work for Narcissa? Or for you?" Hermione asks, watching Regulus carefully.
Regulus inclines his head. "My father taught me the spell, and I highly doubt that my cousins are aware of it, since the possibility to act as the Head of House Black remains in the male line." He lowers his gaze to the coffee table. "Unfortunately, I do not know if the spell will work, as there is no Head in my House."
I lift my brows at him. "Wait…there's no one?"
Regulus watches me silently for a bit, before he replies. "Not after Sirius."
Hermione arches a brow. "How patriarchal. So…we do not know if the spell can be cast properly," she says with a sigh, rubbing her temple. "And would it even work? Didn't Bellatrix assure V – You-Know-Who that she had made sure the cup was protected, and that only he would have access to it?"
"Nothing could prevent the spell from gaining access," Regulus says firmly.
Hermione nods and takes in a deep breath. "So, we need Narcissa, to get us into Gringotts, and we need Regulus in there, to cast the spell…a spell, that might be impossible to cast so that it would work," she says slowly, frowning at the table. "I don't like it," she says quietly, glancing at us. "What happens if the spell cannot be cast to open the vault?" She asks, worrying her lip in thought.
Ron clears his throat next to me. "How do we even get Narcissa to meet us, so that we could, you know…set the curse on her?" He asks, scratching his jaw.
Hermione huffs. "I think we need to first think if we can even get the cup from the vault, before we discuss this any further," she says with a hint of irritation in her voice.
There's a short silence as everyone thinks it over. Kreacher appears with a tray of tea, and when the elf disapparates with a crack, I remember my first trip to Gringotts. When Hagrid and I went to retrieve a package from a certain vault.
"Goblins," I say to the others, "They have access to the vaults, don't they?"
Regulus and Hermione both seem to be contemplating my words. Ron looks alarmed.
"You mean we'd Imperio them as well?" Ron asks with worry in his voice. "Harry, that's dangerous. You don't know Goblins…they're vicious creatures…"
I frown at my friend, and then look at the others. "Do we have any other choice?"
Hermione chews the inside of her cheek. "I don't know," she says slowly, looking frustrated. "Would we even need the spell then?" She asks from Regulus.
"Using the Goblins should be considered as the last resort. The security measures placed underground undoubtedly detect any magic cast towards the Goblins, and would alert everyone in Gringotts. It would alert the Dark Lord as well." Regulus says quietly.
I give him a sharp nod. "I think we should try it. I don't see any other way to get to the Horcrux," I say, and lift my brows at the others. "What do you think?"
Ron curses under his breath. "So, we either succeed without raising an alarm, or we do not," he grunts, shaking his head slightly. "Brilliant. Let's go for it then." He says with a mirthless smile.
Hermione looks somewhat reluctant, before she lets out a weary sigh. "As daring as it sounds, I unfortunately cannot come up with anything else, even though I hoped otherwise," she says, before nodding. "We should do it."
I nod at her, and then turn to look at Regulus. "How can we get to Narcissa? How can we make sure she's alone, and will not alert the Death Eaters…or, well, You-Know-Who?"
Regulus's gaze sweeps the table before he looks at me again. "I shall request a meeting with her."
Ron splutters, while both Hermione and I let out incredulous sounds. "W-What?" I ask, feeling utterly bewildered.
Regulus's brows twitch slightly. "I will write to her, and ask her to meet me. My cousin will certainly recognise my penmanship, even without identifying myself in the letter," he explains simply.
Hermione lets out a disbelieving huff. "What makes you think she'd come alone? Or come at all? If she recognises you, why wouldn't she tell her husband? And You-Know-Who?"
"I know my cousin. She will be there. I doubt that she will arrive by herself, but I also know she wouldn't dare to alert several others, before confirming the matter," Regulus says wearily. "She would not pass on information to the Dark Lord before that."
We continue the discussion, eventually agreeing that Regulus will write to her as the Twilfitt and Tatting's shop owner, informing her that her order has arrived for fitting. We agree to take Polyjuice, as it is the only precaution we can use, when running along Diagon Alley.
However, the plan cannot be carried out as swiftly as we thought, since Hermione informs us that we have run out on both Polyjuice and some of its ingredients, meaning we need to first acquire the necessary items and then brew the potion.
The day goes on, as we put our plans into notes, trying to think of every detail, and everything that could go wrong.
A lot of it could.