Change the Future

DH 20

Bill and Fleur were standing at the foot of the stairs.

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

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

"I'm sorry," he said without heat, "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, Hermione looks as though she's been tortured, and Ron's just refused to tell me anything"

"We can't tell you what we're doing," Harry said 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?" Harry hesitated. 

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

"Up here, then," Bill said, leading the way. Harry had walked up several steps before stopping and looking back. 

"I need you two as well!" he called to Ron and Hermione, who had been skulking, half concealed, in the doorway of the sitting room. They both moved into the light, looking oddly relieved. "How are you?" Harry asked Hermione. "You were amazing coming up with that story when she was hurting you like that" Hermione gave a weak smile as Ron gave her a one-armed squeeze.

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

"You'll see. Come on." Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed Bill up the steep stairs onto a small landing. Three doors led off it. 

"In here," Bill said, opening the door into his and Fleur's room, it too had a view of the sea, now flecked with gold in the sunrise. Harry moved to the window, turned his back on the spectacular view, and waited, his arms folded, his scar prickling. Hermione took the chair beside the dressing table, Ron sat on the arm. 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," Harry said. "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. Harry noted the goblin's sallow skin, his long thin fingers, his black eyes. 

"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?" Griphook said. "I remember, Harry Potter. Even amongst goblins, you are very famous." Harry and the goblin looked at each other, sizing each other up. Harry's scar was still prickling. He wanted to get through this interview with Griphook quickly, and at the same time was afraid of making a false move. While he tried to decide on the best way to approach his request, the goblin broke the silence. "You buried the elf," he said, sounding unexpectedly rancorous. "I watched you from the window of the bedroom next door."

"Yes," Harry said. Griphook looked at him out of the corners of his slanting black
eyes.

"You are an unusual wizard, Harry Potter."