Daughter of Black

8.05

 A cart hurtles through the darkness, ferrying the lot of us down the rickety rails, twisting and turning, sloping ever downward. Harry leans toward Griphook, who commandeers the cart. "How long before they come after us?" Harry asks. Griphook doesn't answer. I eye Griphook suspiciously, not sure that I feel comfortable with this plan anymore.

"What's that? Up ahead." Ron asks, making me look up. In the distance, directly over the tracks, something shimmers like a curtain of water. Furiously, Griphook starts to throw levers, trying to slow the cart. The wheels screech, throwing off sparks. Griphook slumps back, powerless, watching in grim resignation as the cart careens wildly down the rail and pierces the shimmering curtain. Instantly, water engulfs us with ferocious power, knocking us backwards into the cart. The seats beneath us collapse, flipping downward and we drop. Hermione screams something, her wand flashing and one by one we splash down, gently landing on the ground. As the water drains away, we peer upward, watching as, alarms blaring, the cart rattles back the way it came. Harry turns to Hermione as she pockets her wand.

"Oh no..." I look at Hermione, my eyes widening. "You look like... you." I look down at myself, seeing myself go back to what I look like normally. Griphook nods to the waterfall.

"The Thief's Downfall. Washes away all enchantments. Can be deadly."

"What the devil are you all doing down here!" The other goblin yells, his spell having worn off. We all turn, seeing a soaking goblin, cleansed of the Imperius curse, backing away in angry confusion.

"We need him!" Griphook yells, pointing at the other goblin.

"Is this your doing, Griphook? You have no rights here anymore. When you gave up your keys, you..." Hermione and Harry raise their wands, but I beat them to it.

"Imperio!" The goblin blinks, resuming his mild demeanor. They glance at me and nod, silently thanking me. I nod back, looking at Griphook. He pushes his old boss past us, leading him towards the vault. As we walk behind Griphook, I hear a deep and unsettling moan coming from the tunnel.

"No. It's not possible..." Ron appears first, his mouth agape. I follow closely behind and the goblin stands placidly by himself. Something massive shifts heavily, chains clink. A giant white dragon tethered to the ground, bars access to a deep vault. Its scales are pale and flaky and his eyes milky. "Bloody hell. That's a Welsh Green." I take a deep sigh, throwing my hands up in the air.

"Oh what a joyous occasion! Another bloody fucking dragon!" Harry nods in my direction, the both of us having had enough of dragons in our lifetime. The triwizard tournament gave me more time with dragons than I will ever need in my lifetime.

"It looks like it's been down here forever." Hinges squeak sharply and we jump as Griphook takes something from a wooden box on the wall. It looked like an instrument. As he steps into the light, he hands the instrument to Ron and to me. Giving it a shake, a shrill ringing sound echoes off the rocky passage, eerie and unpleasant. I wince as I watch the dragon shrink back, roaring and howling in fear. He hated it. He hated the noise.

"It's been trained to expect pain when it hears the noise." Ron tells us. Hermione and I swiftly turn to look at Ron. The dragon has scars on his neck and face, breaking my heart. Listen, I might never want to be attacked by a dragon again, but they shouldn't be prisoner to our commands. And we certainly shouldn't be harming them.

"That's barbaric." Hermione gasps, staring back at the poor animal. I hand the instrument back to Griphook, not wanting to be a part of this act of tortue.

"We'll only have a few seconds. In other words... there'll be no do-overs. Understood?" We nod, knowing the consequences if we fail. The dragon's eyes glimmer angrily. Griphook raises the instrument... and shakes it. The cacophony is murderous. I grimace. The dragon roars hoarsely, then slowly retreats. The goblin strides forth, blissfully ignoring the dragon's bobbing head and presses his hand to the vault's door. It melts. All of us rush inside the vault. In the ensuing silence, the dragon spits fire just as the vault reseals itself and all goes dark. The four of us all light our wands, creating some light in the darkness. The vault was filled with treasures and artifacts. Some I recognized as being Black family heirlooms. Others, I could guarantee were never hers; objects that she stole from her own victims. I look at Harry, his eyes and body having drifted away from us. He was looking for the horcrux. He was listening for its 'singing'.

"Is it here, Harry? Can you feel anything?" Ron asks. I move slightly closer to Harry, but he doesn't respond, his wand light continuing to travel over the small treasures above. The beam of light trembles over the objects nestled nearest to the ceiling, then settles on an ancient cup, bearing the Hufflepuff crest. As I move backward, I accidentally bump Hermione. I hear her bump into some of the treasures and before I can turn around to apologize, a bowl wobbles on the floor, splitting apart and beginning to multiply.

"What the bloody hell?" I jump back, walking towards Harry.

"They've added Gemino Curses! Everything you touch will multiply!" I groan as I glare at Griphook. These are things you mention BEFORE we walk into the vault. The multiplying bowls skitter across the floor and flip into the air. As one caroms off Ron's shoe, it bursts into twenty more. Harry turns around, tipping a towering stack of galleons to the floor where they multiple like cockroaches. Instantly, the room is a riot of multiplying metal. Harry points his wand once again at the small cup near the ceiling.

"That's it. Up there." Harry yells at us, ignoring the multiplying objects.

"How're we going to reach it?" I ask him. If he touches anything, it'll just multiply.

"Give me the sword! The real one." Hermione reaches into her beaded bag, tosses it to Harry, who catches it by the hilt. Griphook's eyes glitter greedily at the sight of it. Instantly, Harry begins to scale the multiplying mountain of objects, climbing towards the cup. As the surface shifts beneath his feet he moves upward, beads of sweat trailing over his forehead. Suddenly, halfway up, he slips and, instinctively, to keep from falling, he reaches out and plants the flesh of his palm against the shifting slope. Instantly, objects explode forth, multiplying crazily and cascading down onto me, Ron, Hermione, and Griphook in a small avalanche.

"Shit!" I yell out, before looking back at Harry. "Just keep going." I yell up at Harry. Harry climbs faster, the sound deafening, objects clanging off one another, until, finally, he stops just shy of the ceiling. Reaching out, he extends his arm, further, then further still and slips the sword's tip through the cup's handle. As it shimmies down the blade, Harry looks back at us, the objects rising still. "Hurry, Harry!" Ron helps pull me up as I lose my footing, trying not to drown in tons of metal. Harry plummets, feet first, soaring through the air, then crashes down on the swelling treasure. The sword, and the cup, fly free. Harry dives into the treasure, hand outstretched, and catches it. Instantly, dozens of Hufflepuff Cups burst from his fist, but he holds tight to the original. Hermione holds her beaded bag before Harry and he jams it inside. As they turn for the door, they stop. Griphook holds the sword, the real sword, in his hands, turning the blade in the light.

"We have a deal, Griphook." Griphook looks up. A kind of madness burns in his eyes. I shook my head, knowing what was about to happen and feeling stupid for trusting anyone during this stupid war.

"I said I'd get you in. I never said anything about getting you out." Pivoting swiftly, Griphook slams the goblins hand to the door and as it melts, we ride an avalanche of silver and gold into the outer chamber.