The War | The Sister Book #4 | Harry Potter Fanfiction

Chapter Thirty-Two

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I look down at the small stone grave, my chest tight. I didn't know Dobby like Harry did. I met him when I was twelve, and he tried to get me to leave Hogwarts, but I refused. I didn't understand.

His grave is a small headstone with the words Here Lies Dobby, A Free Elf etched into it in scraggly, heavy letters. I place the small bunch of flowers I'd collected in front of it and nod to myself. Whispering a silent thank you into the ocean wind.

xxx

Harry, Ron, Hermione and I loiter in the kitchen, awaiting one of the other survivors from Malfoy Manor to wake. I talk quietly with Luna as she slowly explains what had happened to her, she was held at ransom due to what her father was writing, and her soft, gentle voice recounts her time in Malfoy Manor almost as though she is explaining a dream.

"I need to talk to the Goblin."

I look up upon hearing Harry's raspy voice, seeing Fleur standing at the foot of the stairs. Harry motions for me to follow as they head upwards to the second floor, and I squeeze Luna's shoulder, hurrying after them. When we enter Griphook's room, he sits in an armchair gazing out through one of the large windows. His elbows are propped on the arms of the chair and he doesn't acknowledge our presence as Harry and I inch around the chair, so as to see his face.

"How are you?" I ask tentatively, and the Goblin sighs,

"Alive."

Harry shifts his weight, and I hang back, "You probably don't remember me do you-"

"That I showed you to your vault when you first came to Gringotts? Even among Goblins, you're famous Harry Potter." Griphook says slowly, and then motions to the Sword of Gryffindor, which has been placed in the corner of the room, "Where did you come by that?"

"It's complicated," I answer,

"Why did Bellatrix Lestrange think it should be in her vault at Gringotts?"

The Goblin tilts his head slightly, "It's complicated."

Harry sighs, "The sword presented itself to us in a time of need. We didn't steal it."

Griphook nods, "There is a sword in Madame Lestrange's vault identical to this one, but it is a fake. It was placed here this past summer."

"And she never suspected it was a fake?" I ask,

"The replica is very convincing. Only a Goblin would recognise that this is the true sword of Gryffindor."

Hermione looks over at Griphook, "Who's the acquaintance?"

"A Hogwarts Professor, as I understand it he is now Headmaster."

Snape.

"Snape, he put a fake sword in Bellatrix's vault? Why?" Ron asks from behind Hermione. She glances at him.

"There are more than a few curious things in the vaults at Gringotts."

"And in Madame Lestrange's vault as well?" I ask,

"Perhaps."

Harry glances at us, and then back to the Goblin, "I need to get into Gringotts, into one of the vaults."

We had discussed this earlier. Harry believes that there is a Horcrux in Bellatrix's vault, because of how she reacted when she thought we'd been in there. At this point, we have nothing left to lose.

"It is impossible."

"Alone, yes, but with you no," Harry replies,

"Why should I help you?" Griphook asks, sneering slightly,

"We have gold, lots of it-" I start,

"I have no interest in gold."

"Then what?" Harry asks,

The Goblin pauses, and then slowly motions at the sword, "That, that is my price."

No, Harry-

Harry agrees.

xxx

"How do we even know that there will be a Horcrux in her vault, and now, you've given away our only chance of destroying them..." Ron rambles as we stand at the landing outside Olivanders room.

"Ron," I hiss, "The sword isn't any use to us if we haven't found an Horcuxes, and besides, it disappears and reappears at a rate of knots. I doubt this is the last time we'll see it-"

Fleur appears through the door behind Harry, and glances at us, sighing, "He's awake."

I squeeze the wand in the palm of my hand as Harry leads us into the room. Sunlight falls through the window behind Olivander, illuminating a double bed and armchair, and shelves littered with shells and pebbles from the ocean. The walls are a sandy cream colour.

"Harry, Clara..." His voice is weak and croaks from where he sits, barely audible. Harry walks around the bed and sits at the foot of it, close to Olivander.

"Mr Olivander, I need to ask you a few questions."

"Anything my boy, anything," Olivander responds gently and Harry nods.

"Would you mind identifying this wand?" Harry slowly passes the wand he took from Bellatrix to the feeble old man. He nods.

He begins examining the wand, "Walnut, Dragon Heartstring, 12 and 3/4 inches-" He attempts to bend the wand, frowning when he has no luck, "Unyielding." He murmurs, looking up at Harry, "This belonged to Bellatrix Lestrange, treat it carefully."

Harry takes back the wand, nodding, and I step forward, "Sir, and this one," I hand him the dark simple wand I'd been holding.

Olivander eyes it, "Hawthorn, Unicorn hair, ten inches, reasonably pliant," He then holds up the wand, as if to listen to it, "This was the wand of Draco Malfoy,"

"Was?" I ask, "Is it not still?"

"Perhaps not, if you won it from him," He glances at the wand again, "I sense it's allegiance has changed."

I nod, taking back the wand and examining it slowly. I frown, "You talk about wands as if they have feelings, can... think."

Olivander smiles slightly leaning towards me, "The wand chooses the wizard, Miss Potter, that much has always been clear to those of us who have studied wand law."

I glance at Harry, who looks over at Olivander, "And what do you know about the deathly hallows?"

Olivander sits back, his face drops and he looks away, "It is rumoured there are three, the elder wand, the cloak of invisibility, to hide you from your enemies, and the resurrection stone, to bring back loved ones from the dead. Together they make one master of death, but few truly believe that such objects exist."

"Do you?" Harry asks,

Olivander shifts his weight, "I see no reason to put starch in an old wives tale."

"Your lying," I say, and Olivander turns to me, "You know one exists, you told him about it, you told him about the elder wand and where he could go looking for it."

Olivander swallows, "He tortured me, and besides, I only conveyed rumours. There's no telling whether he will find it-"

"He has found it, sir." I say quietly, then glance at Harry who stands, "We'll let you rest."

As we make our way towards the door, Olivander speaks,

"He's after you both. If it's true what you say, and he has the elder wand, I'm afraid you may not stand a chance."