~ ~ = Parseltongue
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Twenty minutes later, Ragnok was seething as he walked back to his office. "You were right, Mr Potter," he spat. "The foul woman has brought that contaminant into our bank. If you really do stop the war, her vault would be confiscated because she broke the terms of the contract that governs Gringotts Bank and its customers."
Harry exhaled in relief.
"However, all is not good news. As a customer of our bank who has access to one of our oldest and highly secured vaults, you have to realise that we take our protection seriously. The vaults are guarded by highly complex and intricately crafted blood wards, among other things. Goblins cannot take the treasures inside because of our oaths. That was the agreement our ancestors made with the International Confederation of Wizards. Goblins, through Gringotts, would handle the currency and economy of the international magical world, and in return, there would be no more conflict between wizards and goblins. That is the reason Gringotts is so highly trusted and is known to be impenetrable. We cannot be bought by witches and wizards who wish to steal our customers' treasures. That being said, you won't be able to enter the vault because you are not a Lestrange by blood or marriage, and due to our oaths, no goblin can help you."
Harry's head drooped as he closed his eyes. Just when he thought he was successful …
"But there is something that can help you overcome this problem."
Harry opened his eyes and saw the aged goblin grinning. "You have to remember that Madam Lestrange is a Black by birth. The House of Black were a paranoid bunch and didn't ever take kindly to someone tarnishing their name. That is the reason why they always had sub-clauses inserted in betrothal contracts so that they could make their in-laws pay if something undesirable happened to a member of their family."
Harry frowned. "And how does that help us?"
"That is where your late godfather comes in," he said. He snapped his fingers and a large cylinder appeared which, Harry guessed, contained blood. It was quite big and Harry was sure it stored at least three litres of blood.
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"S-Sirius wanted to adopt me?"
"Yes," answered Ragnok. "Since he was never convicted, we saw no reason to bar him access to our bank. He came to us in April last year to update his will. He also gave us his blood in case he died before the procedure; a good thing, too, considering what happened. You see, while you do have Black blood in you which you inherited from your grandmother, Dorea, the next person the title and fortune were supposed to go to was Draco Malfoy. But since there is a dispute, the Malfoys are not able to access the vaults, much to their annoyance. The situation is very tricky due to the nature of such magical Wills and contracts."
"But is it legal?" Harry inquired, remembering Hermione, just a year ago, telling him that blood rituals were considered dark magic. "I was told that blood rituals are illegal."
Ragnok scoffed. "Whoever said that obviously doesn't know the basic system about how the magical world operates. Everything works through blood. Magic itself flows in blood. Your identification tonight was done through blood; the wards around our high-security vaults are powered through blood. If the Ministry were to ban all blood rituals, the entire population would be up in arms. This is not the Muggle world, Mr Potter. Blood is highly sacred to all magical species. Yes, there are dark rituals that are illegal, but not the adoption ritual. It has not been done recently but is very much accepted in society. Due to the nature of the ritual, such adoption means that you are essentially a child born to your adoptive parents."
"But how will the adoption help me?"
Ragnok grinned, showing his pointed teeth. "Once you are adopted, you can banish Bellatrix Lestrange from the Black family and brand her a blood traitor. That would activate subsection 12, clause b, of her betrothal contract. You can then recover the dowry from her with interest. Since it does not specify that the amount is to be paid through Galleons alone, I'm sure Hufflepuff's cup can be included in the transaction."
Harry's posture finally relaxed and he exhaled heavily.
"So now that the Horcrux problem is solved, care to explain to me why you think you won't survive the war?"
Harry bit his lip as he pondered on how to answer the question. He took a deep breath and said, "I believe the scar on my forehead contains one of Riddle's Horcruxes."
Ragnok was silent. "That complicates matters," he finally muttered under his breath.
"Since I have to die anyway –"
"Not necessarily," Ragnok interrupted, taking Harry by surprise. "We have encountered Horcruxes before in Greece and Egypt while recovering treasures. We have an ancient goblin ritual that destroys the Horcrux while leaving the container unharmed, but it has never been performed on a living being."
Harry's heart skipped a beat. Was there a way to do it?
"What does the procedure entail?"
"It is a ritual that identifies the soul component and obliterates it. But since you have two souls in your body, the initial stages have to be done very carefully and there is no guarantee that you will make it through alive. I'm also positive that it will be painful. Sometimes it can take days for the soul piece to be extracted if it is attached for too long."
"Is it possible to do the ritual before the blood adoption?" asked Harry hopefully. "I want to try it, Ragnok. I'm willing to pay any monetary compensation that is required."
Ragnok nodded in approval. The boy had proved himself to be honourable. It would worth the risk in helping him.
"Follow me, Mr Potter," said Ragnok. He led the boy to a large ritual room. After about fifteen minutes, a few very old goblins entered as well.
"We don't know how long it would take, Mr Potter," said Ragnok firmly. "This is all based on your determination in overpowering the soul piece. Keep your mind focussed on destroying it and it will happen. We cannot interfere once the ritual has started."
Harry nodded. The other goblins surrounded him and explained what needed to be done. Harry removed his glasses and all his clothes. Trying not to be modest, he stepped inside the ritual pentagram and lay down on the stone floor.
"Ready," said Harry softly.
The goblins began chanting, moving around the pentagram in a circle. Harry felt his scar beginning to prickle. It became red hot and he was fidgeting as the sensation soon became uncomfortable. The volume of the chants increased and after ten minutes of uncomfortable moaning, Harry screamed.
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Voldemort frowned suddenly in the middle of the meeting with his Death Eaters. Something was wrong. He grabbed his head and hissed in pain. White hot anger erupted as he pointed his wand at the nearest Death Eater and snarled, "Crucio!"
Severus Snape fell to the floor as he screamed himself hoarse. With one more curse, Lucius Malfoy screamed, but it wasn't long before Voldemort himself was thrashing about, clutching his head.
"MASTER!" Bellatrix cried out in concern. "Snape, do something!" she shrieked, but the headmaster of Hogwarts was in no position to even get up, as he was twitching on the ground from the Cruciatus exposure.
The faces of the Death Eaters were writ with terror as they watched their Dark Lord scream in agony in the middle of his throne room at Malfoy Manor. They didn't know what caused him pain, but each of them knew that they were all going to pay for it when it finally stopped.