Courage - Harry Potter

-116-

Book: Courage
Chapter 116
Word Count: 3680

While Harry buried Dobby by the sea in a shallow grave, creating a handmade headstone, Ron stayed with him while Hermione took Layla inside to get checked over. Layla still seemed to be in shock, staying silent as Hermione explained to Bill and Fleur what had happened. Fleur rushed forward and began gushing over Layla, gently leading ber away to check her injuries.

A good while later once Layla was deemed fine with no broken bones and only a large scar embedded in her arm which would fade quickly with some magical remedies, she sat with Hermione when Ron and Harry entered.

"I need to speak to Griphook and Ollivander," Harry said.

"No," said Fleur. "You will 'ave to wait, 'Arry. Zey are both too tired—"

"I'm sorry," Harry said, "but it can't wait. I need to talk to them now. Privately — and separately. It's urgent."

"Harry, what the hell's going on?" asked Bill. "You turn up here with a dead house-elf and a half-conscious goblin, a tortured Layla, a frightened Hermione, and—"

"We can't tell you what we're doing," said Harry flatly. "You're in the Order, Bill, you know Dumbledore left us a mission. We're not supposed to talk about it to anyone else."

Fleur made an impatient noise, but Bill did not look at her; he was staring at Harry. His deeply scarred face was hard to read. Finally, Bill said, "All right. Who do you want to talk to first?"

"Griphook," Harry said. "I'll speak to Griphook first."

"Up here, then," said Bill, leading the way. Harry had walked up several steps before stopping and looking back. "I need you three as well!" he called to Ron, Layla,and Hermione, who had been skulking, half concealed, in the doorway of the sitting room.

They all moved into the light, looking oddly relieved.

"How are you?" Harry asked Layla, reaching forward to carefully take her hand in his. "You were amazing — coming up with that story when she was hurting you like that—"

Layla gave a small smile, weakly squeezing Harry's hand.

"What are we doing now, Harry?" Ron asked.

"You'll see. Come on."

Harry, Layla, Ron, and Hermione followed Bill up the steep stairs onto a small landing. Three doors led off it.

"In here," said Bill, opening the door into his and Fleur's room, which had a view of the sea, now flecked with gold in the sunrise.

Bill reappeared, carrying the little goblin, whom he set down carefully upon the bed. Griphook grunted thanks, and Bill left, closing the door upon them all.

"I'm sorry to take you out of bed," said Harry. "How are your legs?"

"Painful," replied the goblin. "But mending."

He was still clutching the sword of Gryffindor, and wore a strange look: half truculent, half intrigued. Layla noted the goblin's sallow skin, his long thin fingers, his black eyes. Fleur had removed his shoes: His long feet were dirty. He was larger than a house-elf, but not by much. His domed head was much bigger than a human's.

"You probably don't remember—" Harry began.

"—that I was the goblin who showed you to your vault, the first time you ever visited Gringotts?" said Griphook. "I remember, Harry Potter. Even amongst goblins, you are very famous. You buried the elf," he said, sounding unexpectedly rancorous. "I watched you from the window of the bedroom next door."