Chapter 9
Raising Gangsters for Fun and Profit
The following day saw a very amused Harry Potter and Weasley twins sitting at the Gryffindor table. Hermione raised a suspicious eyebrow at them but knew better than to ask. Harry was grinning broadly; he and the twins had spent the previous evening committing acts that involved quite a bit of rule-breaking and caused Harry's Metamorphmagus ability to be immensely helpful in the creating of alibis.
The three boys watched, still grinning, as people entered the Great Hall. Once everyone was seated, their grins widened.
"Three."
"Two."
"One."
That's when the music started up and every suit of armor leapt out from under and then onto the house tables and began to sing.
"We're Knights of the Round Table,
We dance whene'er we're able,
We do routines
And chorus scenes
With footwork im-pecc-able,
We dine well here in Camelot,
We eat ham and jam and spam a lot!"
The music seemed to get louder and the suits of armor began to dance; one of them gave a kick that hit Marcus Flint in the backside.
"We're Knights of the Round Table,
Are shows are for-mid-able!
But many times,
We're given rhymes
That are quite un-sing-able!
We're opera-mad in Camelot,
We sing from the diaphragm a loooot!"
The dance routine then proceeded into a kick-line that sent food flying off the tables and then progressed into an impressive tap number. Several of the suits of armor had their helmets banged on by another suit of armor, which then 'accidentally' hit Ron on the head as he passed by, making him exclaim 'oof!'
"In war, we're tough and able!
Quite in-de-fa-ti-gable!
Between our quests
We sequin vests
And impersonate Clark Gable!
It's a busy life in Camelot…"
One of the suits of armor stepped forward for his big solo.
"I have to push the pram a looooot!"
The music gave a final few notes and the suits of armor all bowed to thunderous applause. Even Hermione found the whole thing amusing, though she was doing her best to look indignant at the obvious prank, though failing spectacularly. Even a great number of the professors were entertained by the show (well, except for Snape, but he has no sense of humor).
Soon enough, it was time for Harry and Hermione to head off for their Ancient Runes class. Runes proved to be just as interesting as Arithmancy (again, Harry mentally hit himself on the head for not taking the class simply because Ron Weasley had said not to). Ancient Runes was taught by a young woman named Bathsheba Babbling; a sinewy blonde with misty eyes of pale grey. While not as strict Professor Vector seemed to be, Professor Babbling had a certain loftiness about her that commanded the attention of her students.
"Runes," she said simply to her class that first lesson. "One of the oldest forms of Anglo-European magic. It originated amongst the Germanic peoples; eventually becoming common amongst the Norsemen." She tapped her wand on the chalkboard and writing appeared.
Veit ek at ek hekk vindga meiði a
netr allar nío,
geiri vndaþr ok gefinn Oðni,
sialfr sialfom mer,
a þeim meiþi, er mangi veit, hvers hann af rótom renn.
Professor Babbling smiled and began to recite.
"I know that I hung on a windy tree
nine long nights,
wounded with a spear, dedicated to Odin,
myself to myself,
on that tree of which no man knows from where its roots run."
There was an odd glow in the room. Harry could feel a strange power tickling the back of his neck; it was not unlike when he entered Ollivander's so long ago and he could feel the magic in the very air of the shop.
"This," Professor Babbling continued, "Is part of the ancient rite that first gave the power of runes to wizardkind. There have been many great and powerful witches and wizards who have harnessed the power of runes to do truly incredible things." Her eyes darted briefly to Harry. "The Evans family, in particular, has a history of using Runic Magic to become great Battle-Mages and warders; while the Peverells are rumored to have discovered a runic configuration that enabled them to create a device whereby they could communicate with the dead."
Harry's eyes widened. So that was how the second brother created the Resurrection Stone.
As the class progressed, the students received a basic understanding of several different types of runes: Elder Futhark, Younger Futhark, Anglo-Saxon Futhorc, Rök Runes, Hälsinge Runes, Marcomannic Runes, Medieval Runes, and even the Dalecarlian Runes.
As they all stood up to leave when the bell rang, Professor Babbling had one final thing to tell them.
"Remember, class, that runes are powerful, eldritch magic. If anyone here signed up for this class thinking it was going to involve messing around with a few odd shapes and symbols, think again. If you mess with ancient magic you can't control, the consequences could be…quite dire. Have a nice day."
Friday evening soon arrived; at 5:00 pm, the doors of the Great Hall swung open to admit a petite, elderly woman in floral-patterned robes. Of course, it was only natural that she would head straight for Harry. The woman introduced herself as Dame Irene Stoat and that she was there to tutor Harry in Magical Customs. Professor McGonagall came over to inquire what was going on now; she was actually very impressed that Harry had found a tutor for Magical Customs and was perfectly happy to provide a classroom for him and the Muggle-born students who wanted to learn more about the world they had become a part of. Hermione found the class fascinating, though some of the traditions seemed rather ridiculous to her; Marriage Contracts were one of the major things she had issues with.
"Thank you for inviting me to that class, Harry," Hermione said as they headed down to dinner.
"No problem, Hermione," he replied. "You're my friend, you're more than welcome to join me in any private classes I have. Oh, speaking of which, Hermione, I was wondering if you'd care to join the Occlumency lessons I will be starting soon."
"What's Occlumency?"
"It's the art of protecting your mind. You see, there are people who have the ability to pry into your mind and see your thoughts."
"Like…mind-reading?"
"Sort of, but it's a little different. It's called Legilimency. There are only two Legilimency experts in this school that I know of; Dumbledore and Snape. Both of them peek into people's heads on a daily basis."
"Harry, how can you accuse Dumbledore of that?"
"How else does he seem to know everything that goes on around here?"
"Well, you have a point there."
"It's illegal to practice Legilimency on a minor without consent from both the minor and his/her guardian. If you come to my Occlumency classes, you will be able to protect your mind from attack and keep your secrets safe."
"When do these classes start?"
"Next Monday after dinner; until then, try and practice by clearing your mind and organizing your thoughts and memories. Here's a book that can help." No sooner had Harry retrieved the book from his bag than Hermione snatched it up and instantly began reading.
Breakfast the following day was cause for even more excitement. Not for the first time, the double-doors of the Great Hall swung open to admit newcomers. Just like in recent events, the two men who entered were there to see Harry. Both men were dressed in sandy-colored outfits that would not look out-of-place at a club for explorers and they were both wearing brown Stetson hats that were tilted to an angle. Harry noticed that the shorter of the two men had a missing arm.
"Are you 'arry Potter?" said the taller one.
"Yes, sir," replied Harry.
"I'm 'ank Spim and this fellah over 'ere is my brother Roy. We've come about the bah-silisk carcass. Would you please be so kind as tah shew us the way?"
"Yes, sir. Oh, would it be alright if some friends accompany us?"
"I don' see a problem with that, do you, Roy?"
"Nah, s'long as they don' cause trouble, it should be fine," the one-armed man agreed.
"Great," Harry said. Harry then went over to various students, especially the ones who had been affected by the basilisk, and invited them to see the Chamber of Secrets. Harry also invited Luna Lovegood and asked her to send the report to her father to use as an article for The Quibbler.
As it turned out, a great deal of students found themselves invited to the big event. Harry also requested the attendance of several professors; as he approached the staff table, Harry noticed that Dumbledore was curiously absent. Unbeknownst to Harry, the crazy old man was still fast asleep as the house-elf tasked with waking him up had decided it had better things to do. Of course, it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that a higher power had instructed the elf to do so. None at all.
As they walked, the brothers regaled the students with tales of their hunting exploits.
"The mosquito's a clever little bastard," said Roy. "You can track him for days and days until ya really get tah know 'im like a friend. He knows you're there, and you know he's there. Ya hate 'im, then ya respect 'im, then ya kill 'im."
"Still, not as bad as the moth-hunt, eh, Roy?" Hank said. "Basically, I follow the moth in the 'elicopter to lure it away from the flowers, and then Roy comes along in the Lockheed Starfighter and attacks it with air-to-air missiles."
"A lot of people have asked us why we don't use fly-spray. Well, where's the sport in that?"
"Does anyone else have no clue what they're talking about?" Lee Jordan whispered to the other Gryffindors who all nodded. "Oh, good, I thought it was just me."
"Here we are," Harry announced once they reached the outside of the girls' bathroom.
"Aha!" Hank declared. "O'course the ol' bugger would 'ide 'is chamber in the least likely of places."
Harry led them inside; of course, not everyone could fit in at once and there was more than one unwelcome guest who tried to follow. Luckily, the same higher power that had absolutely nothing to do with keeping Dumbledore asleep had decided to shield the doorway so that only those who were welcome could enter.
"Hello, Harry," greeted the familiar form of Moaning Myrtle. "It's nice to see you again."
"Hi, Myrtle," Harry said politely. "We're all about to go down into the Chamber of Secrets to get the carcass of that basilisk that caused your death."
"Oh, that's nice."
"Would you care to join us?"
Myrtle blushed and shook her head.
"I think there's an anti-ghost ward on the place that prevents me from entering. Thank you, though."
Harry nodded and then gave the password in Parseltongue and the entrance opened. Feeling lucky, Harry then asked for stairs which quickly appeared.
"Lead on, Mr. Potter," Roy said.
Harry led everyone who was invited down into the chamber. Curiously, many of those who had been denied entry were Ravenclaws, including Cho Chang and Marietta Edgecombe; it goes without saying that neither Ronald nor Ginevra Weasley was able to enter. Of the teachers, only Severus Snape was prevented from entering; something which irked the man greatly.
Once the large host of students and faculty were at the bottom of the secret passage, Harry led them all over to the Chamber door.
"You know," Hermione spoke up, "it's curious that no one discovered this when they installed the pipe-system. Forgive me if I'm wrong, but I don't believe they had plumbing in the Dark Ages."
"Oh, someone did find it," Harry stated. "The plumbing was installed in the 18th century; however, Corvinus Gaunt, a descendant of Salazar Slytherin, was attending Hogwarts at the time. Gaunt discovered a trapdoor on the site of where the girls' bathroom was to be built; so he prevented anyone from stumbling across the Chamber during the construction."
"Mr. Potter," McGonagall said, "how exactly do you know this?"
"Let's just say I have very good sources."
Harry then opened the door to the Chamber and everyone filed in. Everyone who wasn't either Harry Potter or a Mr. Spim gasped in shock at the sight of the giant snake that was lying dead on the Chamber floor.
"Harry," Hermione said in disbelief, "you actually faced that?"
"Um, yes," Harry said.
"You mean tah tell me," Roy Spim said, "that a twelve-year-old with excess bindin' on 'is magic was able tah take down this bad boy." He pointed to the giant corpse.
"Yes."
"Lad, I can safely say you will always be welcome at the Magical Explorers and Hunters Club."
"Uh, thank you?"
As Hank and Roy set preservation charms on the basilisk corpse, Susan Bones approached Harry.
"Mr. Potter," she said.
"Yes, Susan isn't it?" he inquired.
"Susan Bones," she said with a nod. "I have a question or two to ask you."
"Alright."
"Would you be willing to give an official statement about what exactly went on down here that I can send to my aunt? She's the head of the DMLE."
"Oh, yes, I had the pleasure of meeting her during the summer. Sure, Susan, I'll give you a report."
"I also wanted to ask if you have investigated this chamber. It strikes me as odd that the basilisk was the only thing down here."
"What, you think there might be a secret room?"
"It's possible."
"Okay, then. I'll contact Gringotts this week and ask them to send a curse-breaker on the off-chance there's anything dangerous."
"Very sensible, Mr. Potter."
"Please, call me Harry."
"Alright, Harry, and you may call me Susan."
"That's what I was calling you."
"Oh…right." Harry noticed that the girl was starting to blush. Girls were doing that a lot when he spoke to them, Harry realized.
The Spim brothers soon finished with the preservation spells and Harry asked Colin Creevey to take some pictures of the thing; something the younger boy did most eagerly. Once the photos were taken, the Spims contained the basilisk in a special transport device that they would then take to Gringotts so the carcass' value could be determined and then sold.
Later that evening in the Slytherin girls' dormitory…
"Trace?"
"Yes, Daph?"
"What do you think about Harry Potter?"
Tracey hid her face behind her magazine. Tracey knew that Daphne had it bad for Harry; but, the truth was, so did Tracey.
"I think he's very brave, and sweet, and he's…different, but in a good way."
"And he's looking well fit, lately," Daphne added.
"That too."
"So, do you think I should…I don't know, ask him out sometime?"
"That's sort of breaking protocol. Traditionally, it's the boy who asks the girl out."
"I know, but Harry doesn't seem the type who would care about that sort of thing."
"Yet another point in his favor."
Daphne paused for a moment.
"Hey, Trace?"
"Hmm?"
"Do you…you know, like Harry?"
"Of course I do; what's not to like?"
"No, I mean, do you like him in the same way that I do?"
There was an awkward silence.
"Let's get to bed, Daph; it was a very exciting day."
Neither girl realized that they weren't the only ones fantasizing about Harry Potter.
The rest of the weekend passed with relative quiet compared to the dramatic events of the first week; although, Harry frequently found himself the object of much attention from fans and well-wishers, all of whom were eager to hear Harry tell the story of his fight against the basilisk. Harry, however, responded that they would be able to read about it in an upcoming edition of The Quibbler. When the article came out, Harry had to laugh at how it implied that Dumbledore knew what was happening and still did nothing, playing on the fact that the aged headmaster had been around during the time the Chamber was first opened and never decided to investigate the matter once he rose to his current position. The fact that the Boy-Who-Lived had wielded the Sword of Gryffindor in defense of the students of Hogwarts led to Harry receiving a copious amount of fan-mail; much of it was from grateful parents thanking him for his bravery, the rest was mostly an assortment of marriage proposals from witches who had a taste for powerful young wizards.
Of course, Dumbledore was shocked when he discovered just what he had slept through; what followed were numerous attempts by the headmaster to speak with Harry. However, Harry responded to Dumbledore's summons, just as he had the first time, by stating that unless the meeting had something to do with academics, then the old man would have to have Harry's legal guardian, Sirius Black, present for the proceedings.
Sirius, however, was making a point of being too busy to stop by any time soon.
He had gone to Grimmauld Place, rather reluctantly, and started work renovating his ancestral home. Kreacher had, naturally, been rather angry by Sirius' presence; but Sirius had followed Harry's instructions and tried to be civil to the house-elf; of course, it didn't hurt his cause that he asked Kreacher for the locket that Regulus had wanted destroyed. Harry had told Sirius about what Regulus had gone through to try and bring down Voldemort (this had resulted in Sirius making a decision to have a memorial made for his brother at the family cemetery, after having drunk a good deal of liquor and going through an awkward and grief-filled silence). Sirius placed the locket in a secure container so that he and Harry could take it to Gringotts during Christmas Break. Sirius had asked Harry about why he wanted to wait, to which Harry responded that he also wanted to retrieve the Diadem from inside the castle and present both objects to the goblins in one visit.
Sirius, however, was not the only busy person. By the time Monday evening had rolled around, Harry and Hermione were all set for their first Occlumency lesson. The instructor Harry had hired was yet another American; Patrick Stearns, a Muggle-born wizard from New York, had been more than happy to take up the offer of Occlumency teacher to Harry Potter and any friends he brought with him. Mr. Stearns was about the same age as Mr. Preston and the two seemed to have been acquainted from past encounters at Salem Institute. Stearns was very tall, had windswept black hair, light blue eyes that were full of both calmness of mind and a hunger for excitement, and what looked like a Heidelberg dueling scar on his left cheek. Harry had to admit that Mr. Stearns was way better at teaching Occlumency than Snape (well, anyone would be); instead of blasting through Harry's mental defenses, Stearns taught his students how to build them up and then sent a few weak mind-probes. By the end of the class, Harry and Hermione were confident that they could keep out minor mental attacks.
Ron and Hermione still seemed to not be speaking with each other, which meant Harry was now the go-between for them; however, Harry seemed to have very little to say to Ron as of late (three guesses why). Harry and Hermione had started to make a great deal of friends in other Houses; in fact, his friendships with other students eventually led to the formation of a Defense Club; everyone was welcome, including Slytherins (much to somepeople's dismay). Harry had also hired Mr. Stearns to help out at the Defense Club and a number of people were impressed with just how much the American knew about DADA; of course, Remus was also invited to be the moderator for the club and was very helpful in showing everyone a variety of spells that could be used in a fight.
At the start of October, however, Harry had something else to occupy him, something so enjoyable it almost caused him to forget his excellent classes. The Quidditch season was approaching, and Oliver Wood, Captain of the Gryffindor team, called a meeting on Thursday evening to discuss tactics for the new season.
[The following passage was taken, unedited, from Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban]
Oliver Wood was a burly seventeen-year-old, now in his seventh and final year at Hogwarts. There was a quiet sort of desperation in his voice as he addressed his six fellow team members in the chilly locker rooms on the edge of the darkening Quidditch field.
"This is our last chance - my last chance - to win the Quidditch Cup," he told them, striding up and down in front of them. "I'll be leaving at the end of this year. I'll never get another shot at it."
"Gryffindor hasn't won for seven years now. Okay, so we've had the worst luck in the world - injuries - then the tournament getting called off last year." Wood swallowed, as though the memory still brought a lump to his throat. "But we also know we've got the best - ruddy - team - in - the - school," he said, punching a fist into his other hand, the old manic glint back in his eye. "We've got three superb Chasers."
Wood pointed at Alicia Spinner, Angelina Johnson, and Katie Bell.
"We've got two unbeatable Beaters."
"Stop it, Oliver, you're embarrassing us," said Fred and George Weasley together, pretending to blush.
"And we've got a Seeker who has never failed to win us a match!" Wood rumbled, glaring at Harry with a kind of furious pride. "And me," he added as an afterthought.
"We think you're very good too, Oliver," said George.
"Spanking good Keeper," said Fred.
"The point is," Wood went on, resuming his pacing, "the Quidditch Cup should have had our name on it these last two years. Ever since Harry joined the team, I've thought the thing was in the bag. But we haven't got it, and this year's the last chance we'll get to finally see our name on the thing..."
Wood spoke so dejectedly that even Fred and George looked sympathetic.
"Oliver, this year's our year," said Fred.
"We'll do it, Oliver!" said Angelina.
"Definitely," said Harry.
[End of direct quotation]
Harry had realized that, as he had prevented Malfoy from getting injured, Gryffindor would be playing Slytherin as scheduled instead of Hufflepuff like the last time. Harry knew that there was no further risk of him getting attacked by dementors, but that didn't change the fact that he hoped the weather wouldn't be as terrible as it had been that last time.
That had been one thing that bothered Harry about his Quidditch days; in fact, Harry decided that one of the things he would change once he took over his responsibilities as the owner of Hogwarts was the rules regarding Quidditch matches. If there was severe weather, it was only logical that the match should be postponed so that the players didn't risk getting nearly killed.
Upon returning to Gryffindor Tower after a long and grueling Quidditch practice, Harry discovered everyone milling about in curiosity. Professor McGonagall had decided to pay a very rare visit to the Gryffindor common room.
"Attention," she called. "I would like to make a few announcements. Firstly, I would like say that the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year is coming up…"
Harry was rather stunned. In all his time at Hogwarts, McGonagall had never held House meetings before, despite the fact that people in other Houses had said their Heads held a meeting every month. What Harry didn't know was that the only reason McGonagall had never done so was because, in addition to her responsibilities as Head of Gryffindor, she had all the additional work as both Deputy-Headmistress and Professor of Transfiguration. She knew that the reason why Harry Potter and his friends had felt the need to take matters into their own hands and nearly get killed in the process in the past two years was owed to her lack of communication and involvement with the students she was supposed to be responsible for. Minerva McGonagall knew she had to make some serious career decisions; it had been proven at Albus Dumbledore's enquiry that one person cannot handle too many titles.
"Finally," she said with a serious tone, "I have to announce my resignation as Head of Gryffindor."
There was an eruption of confusion.
McGonagall waved her hand for silence.
"I have been doing some thinking and realized that I have not fulfilled my duties as your Head of House. I have spent too much time focusing on my duties as Deputy and Transfiguration Mistress that I have neglected my students. I apologize." There was a moment of silence. "I have asked Professor Babbling to take over as Head of Gryffindor, effective immediately."
Bathsheba Babbling stepped forward to some uncertain applause. She gave a small speech about how much she was looking forward to taking up such a prestigious title and her delight at being able to represent her former House.
"I think she'll do very well," Hermione said with a smile afterwards.
"I agree," said Harry. "She's young and more able to connect with students."
"She's also more approachable than McGonagall," said George Weasley.
"We're in Runes," Fred added. "Babbling is actually very easygoing."
"Well, as long as you're not doing anything that could hurt you or other people."
"She even gave us a guide to some innocent pranks that can be pulled by inscribing certain runes on objects."
"Well, we've got to run."
"Yes, lots of things to do."
As the twins left, Hermione turned to Harry.
"I never thought those two could take anything academic seriously," she said.
"Oh, you'd be surprised, Hermione," Harry responded. "They actually do take care to learn their stuff. They'll have to if they want their joke shop to be successful."
"Joke shop?"
"Oh, didn't you know? It's their dream to open their own joke shop and run Zonko's out of business."
"I bet their mother would just love that," Hermione said with heavy sarcasm.
"Why, Hermione Granger, are you making a joke?"
"Contrary to popular belief, Mr. Potter, I do enjoy a good laugh now and then."
They were interrupted by furious shouting. Ronald Weasley was desperately trying to shake a hissing Crookshanks off his leg.
"Gerroff, you stupid cat!" he yelled. He then gave a great kick that sent the orange creature up into the air, only to land lightly on top of one of the sofas. Crookshanks shook himself off, gave another hiss at Ron, and then darted over towards Harry and Hermione.
"Keep that bloody monster of yours OUT OF HERE!" Ron screamed at Hermione.
"What happened?" Harry demanded, not at all sorry that Crookshanks had attacked his former friend.
"I was upstairs in the dormitory, going through…um, I mean, I was taking a nap and that stupid cat of hers attacked me!"
Harry had a rather strong inclination that Ron was not being entirely honest.
A few minutes earlier…
Ronald Weasley had gotten bored with Professor McGonagall's announcements after she had finished mentioning the Hogsmeade weekend. Instead of staying to hear the rest of the news, he made his way upstairs to the dormitory. It was then that Ronald was struck by a thought, as rare an occurrence as that was. The little stunt that had happened with the whole Chamber of Secrets had made Harry wildly more popular and it was grating on Ronald Weasley's nerves. How dare Harry do this to him? They were supposed to be best friends.
Ron, deciding that perhaps he should do something to get noticed or maybe get back at Harry, made his way over to Harry's trunk. He had just opened it and was reaching in to take Harry's Invisibility Cloak ("I bet I can do loads of stuff with this," Ron had said to himself.) when a bright blur of orange leapt up and clawed his hand.
"Ouch!" Ron exclaimed. He glared when he recognized Crookshanks. "Oh, it's you," he growled.
Crookshanks glared right back in an almost perfect imitation of an indignant Hermione.
"SHOO!" Ron yelled. Crookshanks didn't move.
Instead of listening to his voice of reason, as Ronald Weasley sadly lacked any such phenomenon, Ron decided to try and take a swat at the cat. Crookshanks jumped out of the way, gave an angry "REOW!", and then promptly leapt upon Ron, clawing him at every available turn and sending both boy and cat sprawling out of the room and tumbling down the stairs to arrive amidst a sea of amazed Gryffindors in the common room.
After the scene with Ron and Crookshanks, Harry quickly made his way upstairs to discover that someone had been going through his trunk. Harry didn't need three guesses to know the culprit was a certain redheaded ex-best friend of his. Harry reached into his trunk and pulled out the two-way mirror that Sirius had sent to him.
"Sirius Black," Harry said.
The image of his godfather soon materialized.
"Hey, Harry," Sirius said. "Things going okay?"
"Sort of," Harry replied and then related the entire incident to Sirius.
"What a little prick," Sirius said. "Tell you what, Harry; I know some great protective charms you can put on your trunk to keep out the unwelcome."
Harry got a rather evil grin as Sirius described the jinxes and hexes he could use to ward his trunk.
Halloween loomed, chilly and overcast. Harry was feeling rather grey, himself. He had never liked Halloween; not only was it the day his parents died, but something bad always seemed to happen. Harry sat up in bed and thought to himself: No. My mum and dad wouldn't have wanted me to sit and mope. It's the first official Hogsmeade trip and I am going to have a freaking good time. Harry decided he would not let his bad memories of Halloween ruin today for his friends; he had promised Hermione that they would see the sights together and even arranged to meet up with Neville and a couple of other friends from Defense Club at the Three Broomsticks.
Harry straightened himself out, put on some warm clothes, and headed downstairs to meet with Hermione. They made their way out to where Professor Babbling was collecting the permission forms from the Gryffindor students; Harry proudly handed over the form that Sirius had signed and then walked down to the carriage with Hermione.
As the thestral-drawn carriage carrying Harry and Hermione made its way down to Hogsmeade, Hermione met Harry's eyes.
"Harry," she said suddenly. "I'm going to ask you something. You don't have to answer if you don't want, but I would like to know."
"Go ahead, Hermione," he replied.
"Why me, Harry?"
"Huh?"
Hermione rolled her eyes good-naturedly.
"Why did you choose me, of anyone else in Hogwarts, to be your best friend? Why did you jump onto that troll for me in first year?" She gave him a smile. "Why did you kiss my cheek when I was petrified and you thought I was unaware of what was going on around me?"
Harry stared in slight shock. He hadn't known that Hermione knew about that. Back in second year, Harry had paid a visit to Hermione in the hospital wing after she had been petrified. He hadn't been entirely sure what made him do it, but he had kissed Hermione's cheek because he remembered reading in a fairytale book as a child that the heroine is woken from an enchanted sleep by a kiss from the hero. Harry, being twelve at the time, hadn't thought about the story as a romantic one or that the kiss was traditionally on the lips; he'd just hoped at the time that maybe the rules of the fairytale story would apply.
"Well, I-" Harry fumbled over what to say. He'd never been particularly good at talking about how he felt. Even at a mental eighteen years of age, he still couldn't get his mind around how to really talk about things like that. "Oh, look, we're here!" he exclaimed, happy for the change of topic.
Hermione, though disappointed by Harry's lack of response, decided to let things be; prying too much was not good for a friendship and Hermione had no intention of risking hers with Harry.
The two friends set off to explore the village together. Harry was making some intense observations; he really was right, he thought, Hogsmeade was rather lacking. Harry remembered something he had read in one of the books he had bought about the Potter family.
"…In 1792, Gordian Potter and Branche Longbottom began a campaign to encourage businesses in the magical world to expand. Together, the two men invested in the development of many of the most well-known companies around, such as the Nimbus Broom Company and the Whizzo Chocolate Company (the manufacturers of Chocolate Frogs)…Their partnership was such a success, that the Potter and Longbottom families formed an alliance; an alliance that is still believed to be in existence…"
As the meeting at the Three Broomsticks drew ever closer, Harry decided it was time to renew the Potter-Longbottom alliance.
Chapter 10
…Fish, Bananas, Old Pajamas, Mutton, Beef, and Trout
The meeting at the Three Broomsticks proved to be quite enjoyable and Harry soon forgot all the troubles that came with Halloween. When Harry mentioned the Potter-Longbottom alliance to Neville, the boy's face broke into a broad smile.
"I was wondering if you would ever ask about that, Harry," he said. "The fact that you never brought it up before now had made me suspect you had no interest in reconfirming it."
"Neville," Harry replied, "until recently, I had no idea about the alliance. No one ever bothered to explain things like that to me."
Neville looked a little embarrassed.
"I guess I shouldn't have assumed you knew about it."
"Not your fault, Neville. No one's fault except Dumbledork's."
Everyone snickered. Lately, the student population had begun to feel a growing resentment and suspicion of the Headmaster.
"So, how exactly do we renew the alliance?" Harry asked. "We haven't covered that in my Magical Customs class."
The pure-bloods at the table all grinned. Blaise Zabini, who was part of the group that day, got up from his seat.
"Listen up, everyone!" he called out. "An Allegiance Pact is about to be confirmed!"
All heads turned in awe and a hush fell.
"Madam Rosmerta," Blaise continued, "We'll need wine, two small knives, and a halibut."
The buxom witch didn't need telling twice.
Harry was looking rather puzzled.
"A halibut?"
"You'll see," Daphne chuckled.
Madam Rosmerta came back with the requested items, looking very flustered but positively beaming. The fact that two heirs of Most Noble and Most Ancient Houses were going to swear allegiance in her pub was definitely good for business.
"Right," Blaise continued as he poured two cups of red wine. "First, you each make a thin cut across your palms and then join hands."
Harry and Neville each picked up a knife and did as instructed.
"Neville, why don't you go first since you know the oath?" said Tracey.
"I, Neville Francis Longbottom, Heir to the Most Noble and Most Ancient House of Longbottom, do hereby renew allegiance to my brother-in-arms, Harry James Potter, Heir to the Most Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter, as was begun by our forefathers. I do so swear upon my magic that I will come to the aid of the Potter family should they ever call upon me or the rest of House Longbottom."
"I, Harry James Potter, Heir to the Most Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter, do hereby renew allegiance to my brother-in-arms, Neville Francis Longbottom, Heir to the Most Noble and Most Ancient House of Longbottom, as was begun by our forefathers. I do so swear upon my magic that I will come to the aid of the Longbottom family should they ever call upon me or the rest of House Potter."
There was a strange glow around their joined hands.
"This oath is recognized by magic and by those who bear witness this day," said Blaise.
The light flashed and then went out.
Blaise then instructed them to drink the wine, a symbol of camaraderie. Lastly, there was the part of the ritual which involved the halibut.
"This is ridiculous," Harry said. "Blaise, are you sure you're not having me on?"
"The fish-slapping is an ancient and important aspect of the tradition," Blaise declared looking scandalized that Harry would question something so important.
"I think the chaps who came up with this tradition had a little too much to drink," said Fay.
Once the alliance ritual was complete, there was a tumult of applause. After the noise died down, the group returned to its discussion. The conversation eventually turned to the subject of Snape.
"He's really mad about Mr. Preston upstaging him," said Tracey. "He's forbidden anyone in Slytherin from going to the classes, but, as you know, that hasn't turned out so well for him."
"He's gotten really nasty," Daphne added. "And I mean more than usual. He said that anyone going to Mr. Preston's classes will have detention for a month."
"You leave old Snivelly to me," Harry replied with a smirk. "I've got a little something in store for him soon. Although, I am surprised that he hasn't violated the restraining order since that first day."
"You know, Harry," Fay spoke up, "he already did violate it when he started screaming at you. You could've pressed charges then."
"True, but I didn't want to be too hasty. It's just so much fun to mess with him."
"He does tend to look rather blue in the face whenever you walk into the Great Hall," said Susan.
Soon they changed to more pleasant topics and Snape was all but completely forgotten.
However, the greasy-haired Potions master would not remain forgotten for long. Seeing as how Remus would be indisposed during the full moon, it stands to reason that a substitute would be needed. Of course, Snape made an attempt to snatch up that position; however, his plans were foiled when a smirking McGonagall arrived in the staff lounge with Mr. Stearns to announce that the American had agreed to substitute for Remus' classes.
Snape was furious.
"How do we even know if this man is competent?" Snape sneered, his eyes glinting maliciously.
"Do you really want to find out?" Stearns retorted calmly.
Snape gave another sneer at the challenge.
"Really, now," McGonagall huffed. "Severus, I have seen Mr. Stearns at the Defense Club and he is an excellent teacher."
Snape glared at Stearns who looked back. The two men began a silent staring contest in which Snape attempted a Legilimency attack, only to find himself pushed back, rather forcefully, by one of the most superb mind-shields he had ever encountered.
"I would appreciate it if you didn't try to look inside my mind, sir," Stearns said. "Doesn't this school have a policy regarding Legilimency attacks?"
McGonagall was fuming.
"Severus! The rules state, quite clearly, that the use of Legilimency on students, co-workers, and invited guests is strictly forbidden."
Stearns glared at Snape; Preston had told him about the man's completely inept and unprofessional nature; now it was clear that the man was also hostile and belligerent. Stearns and Preston were planning on sending in a report to the School Board. A man like Snape should never be permitted to teach children.
Mr. Stearns turned out to be just as good a Defense professor as Remus. As a substitute, though, he decided to give the class a bit of variation in what they learned. While he did cover some of what they had been learning in Remus' class, Stearns decided to help the class with spellwork.
Much to the delight of the students, Mr. Stearns did not believe in assigning essays as regular homework; he did, however, point out that they should start doing independent studies in order to prepare for future classes.
Snape was being nastier than ever. The few Slytherin third-years who persisted in attending Mr. Preston's classes soon found themselves in detention. Harry was not amused and so it came to pass that a pranking was in order.
Everyone had seated themselves in the Great Hall for breakfast. It was the day of the Gryffindor-Slytherin match and, just like last time, it was pouring rain. Harry had suggested to Wood that the team put Impervius and Warming Charms on themselves. Wood was positively ecstatic by Harry's suggestion.
Harry was just helping himself to porridge when the doors of the Great Hall burst open. There was Snape; he looked incredibly purple in the face, much like an angry Uncle Vernon. Snape took a step forward and everyone laughed; Snape had somehow been pranked into doing a silly walk. He was goose-stepping all the way up to the staff table, which was very hard considering his heavy black robes were in the way. He then did a sort of odd skip, a backtracked step, and a forward aerial half-turn every alternate step.
No one had ever seen anything so funny happen to the overgrown dungeon-bat. A few people had to be taken to the hospital wing they were laughing so hard.
Snape was apoplectic. He turned to glare at a smugly grinning Harry and was just about to shout abuse at him and threaten to expel him when he remembered the restraining order. If he violated the order it would mean the Aurors would stop by for a visit; Snape gave a shudder. The last thing he needed was for Amelia Bones to get her hands on him; the woman would have no sympathy for him because she hated Death Eaters with a passion (especially if they got off). Snape did not want to think what Bones would do to him if she knew he was singularly responsible not only for the deaths of the Potters (as Amelia was James Potter's godsister) but also for the deaths of Bones' brother Edgar and his family. He knew he would probably suffer a fate worse than anything the Dark Lord could do to him if Bones ever found out that he had revealed the hiding place of Michael McKinnon, who was Amelia Bones' fiancé before the Dark Lord killed him. No, it would not do to violate that restraining order; things would go downhill very fast and Snape doubted that Dumbledore would be able to save his hide a second time.
Glaring at the laughing students, Snape made his way (with great difficulty) over to the staff table and tried to act as though there was nothing wrong.
Harry and the Gryffindor team, having finished breakfast, set off for the locker rooms. They changed quickly and were soon heading out. On their way, a group of well-wishers stopped them with applause and cheers; Harry was surprised to see Daphne and Tracey amongst them.
"Believe it or not, Harry," said Tracey, "We would actually prefer it if Gryffindor wins."
"There's no way we would be able to stand Malfoy if he won," Daphne added. "He's annoying enough as it is."
Hermione was also there; she pulled Harry in for a hug and all but demanded that he stay safe out there. Luna was there, too; she warned Harry to look out for Blibbering Humdingers as they are often attracted to places where there are high levels of anxiety and they cause people to become unfocused and prone to mistakes.
It was dark and thunderous when the teams made their way onto the Quidditch pitch; luckily, thanks to Harry's suggestion, the Gryffindors were relatively comfortable and dry while the Slytherins were soaked to the bones and looking utterly miserable. Flint and Wood shook hands (though it looked as though they were both trying to crush each other's fingers) and the players mounted their brooms.
"On my whistle," declared Madam Hooch as another round of thunder was heard. "Three, two, one!"
The whistle blared and they were off.
Harry looked around for the Snitch, immensely grateful that he no longer needed glasses; however, it didn't make the Snitch any more visible as the darkness of the storm loomed overhead like a vast ocean of steely-grey.
Then, he saw it.
About fifty feet below, at the base of one of the Slytherin goal posts, was the tiniest glint of gold. Harry quickly glanced back and saw Malfoy hovering behind him. Taking a sudden shot towards the ground, Harry plunged, Malfoy on his tail. Harry pulled up just before he hit the ground; Malfoy barely managed to jerk up in time to avoid crashing. Harry sped up and headed right for where the tiny Snitch was waiting. The Snitch appeared to have realized that it was about to be caught because it zoomed straight up. Harry followed.
The Snitch seemed to go higher and higher. Malfoy was still following him. Harry didn't want to think about how high up they were now. A flash of lightning, a peal of thunder. Harry was within mere inches of the Snitch. Even Malfoy had fallen behind, clearly terrified of the storm. Harry's fingers closed around the Snitch. Then, from out of nowhere, a blast of lightning struck and Harry was unseated from his Nimbus.
He fell. Down, down, faster and faster. He could hear the screams of the crowd below. Harry had to think fast; he had a funny feeling that old Dumbles wasn't going to save him. That's when it came to him. Harry wasn't sure how, but a spell appeared in his mind and he shouted it out.
"Assurgo!"
Suddenly, a wind swept up at his feet and he landed, unscathed, upon the ground. Staring up into the stands around him, Harry raised his hand to show the still-struggling Snitch.
"Harry Potter has caught the Snitch and performed a spectacular display of wandless magic!" Lee Jordan shouted to the roaring crowds. "Incredible! Never seen anything like this!"
Harry, still smiling, finally felt the drain on his energy from his little performance and collapsed, unconscious, on the field just as the rest of the team was rushing over to him.
"That was the most amazing thing I've ever seen!"
"I thought he was going to die."
"Don't be stupid. He's Harry Potter. Death's beyond him."
Harry heard the voices above him. Some were eager, others worried. Harry knew at once that he must be in the hospital wing; he'd slept in this particular bed often enough to know what it felt like. Harry groaned from how sore he felt and sat up.
"Harry!" Fred exclaimed. "How're you feeling?"
"Sore," Harry replied shortly.
"I'd expect you would be," Hermione said reprovingly. "I told you not to try and get yourself killed. Honestly, it's like you have some sort of death wish. I was worried out of my mind that you would get hurt or worse-"
"Expelled?" Harry finished cheekily.
"Killed," Hermione corrected. "Harry, I can't stand the thought of losing you. Don't you ever scare me like that again."
"We won, didn't we?"
"That's beside the point. Really, this is ridiculous. Someone needs to change the rules for Quidditch matches. Playing in storms, especially like this one, is a good way to get people killed. And it nearly did today."
Harry looked bemused. True, he agreed with her that the rules needed to be changed, but he still would've done what he did. He knew how much the game mattered to everyone and he wasn't about to disappoint.
"Where's Wood?" Harry asked.
"Half-drunk and running around starkers," said George with a grin. "He was rather pleased that you snagged us a victory, Harry."
"By the way, Harry," said Angelina Johnson. "How did you do that thing? With the wind?"
"You were only a few feet from death," continued Katie Bell. "We thought you were done for."
"Honestly," said Harry, "I'm not sure myself. Hey, did someone get my Nimbus?"
Everyone suddenly looked awkward.
The news that his Nimbus had hit the Whomping Willow was almost as hard as the first time he got it. Harry knew that he could probably afford to buy a Firebolt for every person in Hogwarts and barely make a dent in his fortune, but still. His Nimbus had been his first real broom and it was hard to take this news a second time.
Harry was startled when the doors of the hospital wing opened to admit Sirius. Sirius was looking very worried.
"Harry, are you alright?" he asked.
A few of the people in the room looked at him uncomfortably; they were still not used to the idea of Sirius Black being innocent.
"I'm okay, Sirius," Harry replied. "How'd you know I was in here?"
"Bathsheba sent me an owl saying you had gotten struck by lightning and nearly fell to your death," Sirius said.
"You know Professor Babbling?"
Sirius suddenly looked awkward himself.
"Ahem, yes, from some time back. She sent me the message as your Head of House."
It was good to know that Professor Babbling was taking her role as Head of Gryffindor seriously. Harry doubted that Dumbledore was pleased about word getting out that a student had nearly been killed.
The doors swung open again and Dumbledore entered.
"Ah, Sirius," he said warmly. "It's nice to see you again. I was wondering if I could see you and Harry in my office-"
"Sod off," Sirius retorted sharply. "My godson is nearly killed and you have the nerve to strut in here and make demands of me?"
"Sirius, I merely wish to ask-"
"It's Lord Black, to you. Harry is going nowhere until he has recovered. I will not be meeting with you and neither will Harry unless it is strictly to do with academics. Now push off, you old fart."
Dumbledore was shocked. Never had he experienced such a dismissal. He glared at Sirius for a moment before turning to leave; it wouldn't be a good idea to further irritate the young Lord.
"Oh, and sir," Harry added, "Kindly return the things you stole from my vault. I would hate to have to send the Goblin Inquisition after you."
Dumbledore froze as the students gasped. He hadn't expected the Goblin Inquisition. He'd heard stories of people who'd been unfortunate enough to receive a visit from them and had no desire to experience it himself. But he couldn't let the Potter grimoire fall into Harry's hands; there would be no telling how powerful the boy would become with that kind of knowledge. If only Dumbledore himself could access the book, that kind of knowledge would be helpful in the protecting of the Greater Good. It was very troubling to be in this position.
Little did Dumbledore know that things were about to get worse for him.
Over the next few days, Dumbledore discovered that the castle itself seemed to have turned against him. None of the secret passageways would open for him, suits of armor tried to trip him as he passed, the ghosts had started giving him the silent-treatment, the portraits frequently glared at him and seemed to whisper behind his back (well, except for the portrait of the rude French knights that had somehow found its way into his office; said Frenchmen chose to make very loud and obnoxious comments as well as rude noises), and the gargoyle that guarded his office was often heard to growl whenever he approached. Even Fawkes seemed angry with him lately.
Things for Harry, however, were going far better by comparison.
Despite the fact that Madam Pomfrey insisted that Harry spend the rest of the weekend in the hospital wing, Harry was not deprived of company. The twins spent a good deal of time with him going over some new prank ideas they would use; they grinned wickedly when Harry suggested something involving Filch, a cactus, and a croquet mallet. Hermione made sure to come by; her original intent was to help Harry with homework, but she was surprised at how he just seemed to breeze straight through it with no difficulties, and the two ended up talking a good deal. Tracey, who turned out to have a love of cooking, stopped by with a basket of muffins; and Daphne, who accompanied her, gave Harry a quick kiss on the cheek and offered her congratulations for his victory. Luna was immensely helpful in keeping Harry's spirits up during the tedium of staying in the hospital wing; she told Harry a number of very interesting stories about her special creatures. Several other girls stopped by during the weekend, including Susan Bones and Fay Dunbar. A few of Harry's guy friends stopped by to make sure he was doing okay and to play some games and things to pass the time (though Madam Pomfrey threw Seamus and Dean out when they brought along an Exploding Snap set).
Finally, though she was reluctant to do so, Madam Pomfrey released Harry from the hospital wing on Sunday evening.
When Harry made his appearance in the Great Hall for dinner, there was a torrent of cheers. People were happily slapping him on the back and asking him how he did that strange bit of magic at the end.
Ron was less than cheerful. He sulked all the way through dinner and only managed about four helpings of food. While he was happy that Gryffindor won, he couldn't get over the fact that Harry had once more taken the spotlight. It was just so unfair!
Ginny was staring at Harry with undisguised lust. If she hadn't already desired Harry then she definitely did now. In the young redhead's mind, she was absolutely, positively, one-hundred percent certain that Harry Potter was her destined husband. After all, he had saved her from Vol-from You-Know-Who last year; what more evidence did she need?
Harry spent a nice quiet week of school (well, as quiet as things ever are at Hogwarts). Classes were more interesting than ever; Professor Vector had begun teaching them about Arithmantic patterns used to create sentience in otherwise inanimate objects while Professor Babbling had started them on Summoning Circles. Even Hagrid, who had no reason to be distressed as Harry had prevented the hippogriff incident, had stepped up his game; he had planned out his most recent lesson to involve some much more mild-mannered creatures, something for which Harry was truly grateful as he had no desire to see a repeat of the Blast-Ended Skrewts in fourth year.
Winter had soon descended upon Hogwarts. A thick blanket of snow covered the grounds and a frosty wind blew through the old castle. Christmas was approaching and soon most of the students would be off for the holidays.
It was the last Hogsmeade trip of the semester. Harry made his way down to the village with a large and cheerful group of friends (Harry wondered why he had never sought out more friends in the previous timeline when he had been so desperate for them during his childhood). Together, they entered the Three Broomsticks; it was certainly very festive. Clearly Christmas spirits were running high.
They were all just sitting down to butterbeers when Neville spoke up.
"Harry, isn't that your godfather?"
Harry looked over at where Neville was pointing and, sure enough, there was Sirius arm-in-arm with…Professor Babbling? The young blonde teacher was laughing merrily at something Sirius had just said to her and the man himself had a big goofy grin on his face.
"Remember what happened around this time in sixth year?" Babbling said.
Sirius' eyes lit up.
"James and I turned old Snivellus into a penguin and you taught me how to ice-skate," he replied. Sirius then noticed Harry, smiled at him and waved.
Harry waved back.
It was so odd seeing his godfather out doing normal things. Sirius was obviously on some kind of date with the Ancient Runes professor. Still, it was nice to see the man having fun; he deserved it after all those years in Azkaban.
While almost everyone in third year and above was down at Hogsmeade, two Ravenclaws had decided they would be celebrating their holidays a little differently. Cho Chang and Marietta Edgecombe were quietly following behind Luna, waiting until they had the little blonde trapped before they launched their attack.
They had just rounded a corner, intending to knock the younger girl unconscious and lock her in a broom closet like they had done last year; only to find that Luna wasn't there.
"Wait a minute," said Cho, puzzled, "This can't be right. This is the Charms corridor, but we just came out of the wing off the Transfiguration classroom."
They looked around and saw, to their astonishment, that they were, indeed, in a completely different part of the castle.
"This can't possibly be right," Marietta replied.
"And where did Loony go?"
"Let's just get moving; this is creeping me out."
The two girls set off in the direction of Ravenclaw Tower only to find themselves down in the freezing dungeons. No matter which direction they went in, they always ended up in a completely different location than the one they wanted to be in. It wouldn't be until the very last day of school that either girl was able to get back to Ravenclaw Tower at all; and even then the door posed them a question that neither knew the answer to: "What is the capital of Assyria?" And they were stuck waiting outside until Luna, who was much more merciful than either of them could ever hope to be, answered that Assyria no longer has a capital as it is no longer an existing country but when it did exist it was Assur first and later Nineveh.
"But it's not even a riddle!" Cho had exclaimed angrily.
Luna shrugged and brushed by the two frustrated girls.
As it was the last day of school, Harry figured he needed to take a look through the Room of Hidden Things; it was time to collect the Diadem and maybe have a look at what else might be in there. Three times he paced outside the Room of Requirements; after the third time, the door appeared.
The room looked just like it had the last time, cluttered and incredible. Moving swiftly to where the Diadem was, Harry quickly pulled on his dragon-hide gloves so that he wouldn't get accidentally cursed by the Horcrux. Once he retrieved the ancestral artifact, Harry asked the room for a curse-resistant bag, which then appeared. After safely securing the Diadem in the bag, Harry began to take a look at the other contents of the room.
There was a set of old broomsticks that still seemed to be in good condition, an assortment of cloaks, numerous gems that had a strange quality about them, corked bottles with bizarre and obscure contents, a statue of the first Headmaster of Hogwarts, the broken Vanishing Cabinet, some very old weapons, and, of course, the mountains of books (Harry figured that if Hermione ever saw this it would be impossible to tear her away from the room for the next four years, or even longer).
Harry had eventually returned to the Room of Requirements to retrieve several things. He collected the valuable jewels and decided to store them at Gringotts until he decided what to do with them; he had read about certain magical properties in various types of gemstones and there was a chance that these particular jewels might prove useful. He retrieved the broomsticks (which he afterwards took to Madam Hooch who was delighted to finally have suitable replacements for the first year practice brooms) and then turned his attention to the books. It would take ages to sort through this collection of knowledge; but then he realized Wait, duh, it's the Room of Requirement; I just need to ask it to organize all these books for me.
No sooner had the thought entered his mind than the books all began to rise as the room changed into an enormous library. The books all zipped to the shelves that were organized firstly by subject and then alphabetically.
"Well, that's handy," Harry said aloud.
That evening, everyone loaded up their things and set out for the carriages. Harry spent an enjoyable ride on the Hogwarts Express, laughing and playing games with his friends; a certain ginger-haired ex-friend was not invited.
When the train pulled in at King's Cross, Harry immediately noticed Sirius and Remus waiting for him (Harry and Sirius had invited Remus to join them for Christmas). As Harry got his things and headed over to meet them, he was accosted by Mrs. Weasley who then grabbed him in a hug.
"Hello, Harry dear," she said.
"Hello, Mrs. Weasley," Harry greeted, trying to refrain from wincing.
"I had no idea you were leaving Hogwarts for Christmas. You are, of course, more than welcome to come by The Burrow, if you wish."
"Thank you for the invitation, Mrs. Weasley, but I will be spending a great deal of time with my godfather. You see, he's only been a free man since the end of summer…"
"Oh, of course, dear. You both may stop by any time."
What was with the woman? Couldn't she take a hint that he already had plans?
"I am spending Christmas at Potter Manor," Harry explained calmly. "It's the ancestral home of my family and I want to get better acquainted with it."
"Of course, Harry dear. Just remember, our door is always open."
Finally, Mrs. Weasley departed and Harry was able to meet up with the two Marauders. Sirius, of course, had to tease Harry mercilessly as they headed out. Sirius had decided they would travel to Potter Manor in the new car that he had bought; the old dog still loved many Muggle things, including bright red Ferraris.
"Sirius," Harry said, "you do have a Driver's License, right?"
Sirius' eyes began to dart shiftily.
Harry gave a sigh.
"Oh, before we head to Potter Manor, we need to take the Horcruxes in to Gringotts," Harry stated.
"Good idea."
"What Horcruxes?" Remus inquired.
"You didn't tell him, Padfoot?"
"I thought you were going to do it!"
"What Horcruxes?"
Harry sighed again.
"Alright. This will probably take a while."
One explanation to Remus about Voldemort's Horcruxes later, the three arrived at Gringotts and presented the locket and diadem to Director Ragnok. Naturally, Ragnok was outraged that someone had created such an evil work of magic and encased it inside historical treasures. Harry went on to explain the same things to Ragnok that he had to Remus and also his 'hypothesis' that another Horcrux 'might' be hidden in the vault of a Death Eater; Harry suggested they check Bellatrix Lestrange's vault first.
The goblins told Harry it would take a few months for the necessary procedure to be set up to exorcise the objects; none of the goblins had any wish to destroy such valuable artefacts. Harry also mentioned that he believed there was one other Horcrux out there; he then explained that he knew that Voldemort had stolen a ring from Morfin Gaunt and likely made it into a Horcrux; he then pointed out that the Gaunt shack was possibly where Voldemort had hidden it and that it would assuredly have curses or something to protect it if that was the case. Harry also chose to mention that he 'suspected' a fragment of Voldemort's soul was lodged inside his head; of course, the goblins were only too willing to check for him (only to be startled and horrified when his 'theory' was proven true).
When Harry left Gringotts that day, he was unaware of just how much respect he had earned; both from already destroying one Horcrux, and for identifying and capturing several others. It was a few days later that Hufflepuff's Cup was discovered in the Lestrange vault.