Gringotts

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Their plans were made, their preparations complete; in the smallest bedroom a single long, coarse black hair (plucked from the shirt Rigel had been wearing at Malfoy Manor) lay curled in a small glass vial on the mantelpiece.

"And you'll be using her actual wand," said Harry, nodding toward the walnut wand, "so I reckon you'll be pretty convincing."

Hermione looked frightened that the wand might sting or bite her as she picked it up.

"I hate this thing," she said in a low voice. "I really hate it. It feels all wrong, it doesn't work properly for me. . . . It's like a bit of her."

"It'll probably help you get in character, though," said Ron. "Think what that wand's done!"

"But that's my point!" said Hermione. "This is the wand that tortured Neville's mum and dad, and who knows how many other people? This is the wand that almost killed Rigel!"

"Almost is the keyword," Rigel said dryly though he had also kept his distance from that wand. 

"I miss my wand," Hermione said miserably. "I wish Mr. Ollivander could have made me another one too."

Mr. Ollivander had sent Luna a new wand that morning. She was out on the back lawn at that moment, testing its capabilities in the late afternoon sun. Dean, who had lost his wand to the snatchers was watching rather gloomily.

The door of the bedroom opened and Griphook entered. Rigel reached instinctively for the hilt of the sword and drew it close to him, "We've just been checking the last-minute stuff, Griphook. We've told Bill and Fleur we're leaving tomorrow, and we've told them not to get up to see us off."

They had been firm on this point because Hermione would need to transform into Bellatrix before they left, and the less that Bill and Fleur knew or suspected about what they were about to do, the better. They had also explained that they would not be returning. As they had lost Perkins's old tent on the night that the Snatchers caught them, Bill had lent them another one. It was now packed inside the beaded bag, which, Rigel was impressed to learn, Hermione had protected from the Snatchers by the simple expedient of stuffing it down her sock

The next morning, he saw Bellatrix Lestrange (He just couldn't look at her) striding across the lawn toward them, accompanied by Griphook. As she walked, she was tucking the small, beaded bag into the inside pocket of another set of the old robes.

"She tasted disgusting, worse than Gurdyroots! Okay, Ron, come here so Rigel can do you. . . ."

"Right, but remember, I don't like the beard too long —"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake Ron, this isn't about looking handsome —"

"It's not that, it gets in the way! But I liked my nose a bit shorter, try and do it the way you did last time."

Rigel sighed and set to work, muttering under his breath as he transformed various aspects of Ron's appearance. He was to be given a completely fake identity, and they were trusting to the malevolent aura cast by Bellatrix to protect him. Meanwhile, Harry and Griphook were to be concealed under the Invisibility Cloak and Eliza under the pendant.

"There," said Rigel, "how does he look?"

Ron's hair was now longer and wavy; he had a thick brown beard and mustache, no freckles, a short, broad nose, and heavy eyebrows. He was also much paler and his eyes were brown. 

"My turn," said Rigel. He closed his eyes and his demeanor changed. He was the same height. But his skin was more tanned, he had brown hair, with sky blue eyes and loads of scars on his face. He didn't bother hiding the werewolf scar. He took out his Black family ring and stuffed it in his robes.

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