The Delacours where one of the oldest families in magical France. There is even evidence tying them back to the Iron Age, putting them squarely in the center of the foundation of France. Their home certainly matched their history. Harry never went here when he knew the Delacours, but he had heard stories about it from some of his friends.
It didn't do it justice.
The home was beautiful beyond description, the mansion stretched further than was probably needed but from the way the construction was visible, this place probably used to house a lot more people than just a family of four.
It was in front of this mansion that the three British Magicals now found themselves. Dumbledore had arranged a meeting with the Delacours after the conversation the three of them had at dinner three days ago. From what Dumbledore had told them, the Delacours weren't all that happy to be allowing someone into their home, but Dumbledore's reputation and his insistence that it was crucial to the safety of his family was all that Andre Delacour needed to allow them to come.
Dumbledore racked his knuckles against the ancient looking door, a resonating echo bounced in the air around them as the sound reached through the entire home. It didn't take long for a slightly elderly woman with graying hair opened the door for them and guided them inside. She took them to a sitting room containing two sofa's facing each other and a couple of chairs in the corners, aside from that there was nothing in the room.
Not the most welcoming area in the house. Then again, they weren't really that welcome, where they?
Sitting down was all they could do as they waited for the arrival of their host. They weren't offered any form of refreshment and a slight sense of worry settled upon all three of them. This could turn out to be a bit more difficult to explain than they originally thought.
"Dumbledore," an almost fluently British accent rang through the room.
"Ah, Mr. Delacour," Dumbledore bowed a little to their host, and his two companions followed suit as not to insult.
"Skip the pleasantries, Dumbledore. You claim concern over my family's safety and offer me no details other than it is crucial that we meet in person to discuss it. I would very much like to know why this instant or you three will find yourself well on your way again." Andre's voice was harsh and demanding, leaving no room for debate. He wanted these Englishmen to say their piece and then be on their way.
"Very well," Dumbledore conceded as he took a seat in the sofa, "first, I must ask if it is true that you are in possession of Rowena Ravenclaw's Diadem?"
Andre didn't look to happy at the question, but nodded sharply a moment later. "Indeed. My family has always had it," his looks darkened slightly, "or at least we thought we did. A few years ago a stranger came to us and told us that the one we had in our possession was a fake and that he was here to present us with the real article." At the disbelief in his guests eyes he took his own seat and sighed, "of course I didn't believe him at first and conducted my own investigation. It turned out he had been right and that we had been in possession of a fake. He never said why he wanted us to have the item, and to be honest at the time I didn't care much, I just wanted to have the true heirloom back in my family's possession." He gave a withering look towards Dumbledore, "I can highly assume that since you asked about the item, that it is the reason you think my family in danger?"
"We have recently learned that Lord Voldemort made Horcruxes," Andre inhaled sharply at the name, "and we tracked one of them here, as it turns out the Gem that used to sit in the Diadem was emanating a weak form of the dark magic that young Harry here tracked for us. Since the Gem itself wasn't the real Horcrux, we realized that the frame itself must have been the Horcrux. Being and Unspeakable, you know the danger these dark artifacts possess."
Andre swore in French before summoning and a house elf and ordering it to bring him the Diadem in a locked box, and under no circumstances was the elf to touch it with its bare hands.
"If what you are saying is right, I must assume you have a way to deal with it?" Andre questioned.
"Indeed we do. I assume you would like the item to remain intact?" at the nod of Andre, Dumbledore continued with a slightly more jovial tone, "then I can happily inform you that the French branch of Gringotts should be able to purify the item for you. For a fee, of course."
Andre didn't look like it helped him relax. In fact it seemed to annoy him even further. Surely if the goblins were the only ones who could do it, then it truly was a horrifying process.
The house elf propped back into the room, a large obsidian box in its gloved hands. It was placed upon the table and then the elf popped away. Andre withdrew his wand from his sleeve and began rapidly casting spells at the box, making it glow all sorts of different colors.
The three guests sat and watched in slight awe at the sheer number of spells that the French wizard in front of them was performing. A normal Wizard would have been dead on his feet when the spell casting was done, and yet Andre barely looked fazed as he inspected the results of his various scans. His face growing grim as he read through them, not liking what he found.
"I'm not happy about this, Dumbledore," Andre said with a frown, "I would like to know how it is even possible that such a thing came about."
"I'm afraid that one of the teachers at Hogwarts led a young Lord Voldemort to the Horcruxes and what they would do. From there it would seem that a young Lord Voldemort, going by Tom Riddle at the time, went about and collected many ancient artifacts. We have collected four others just like it."
" Mon dieu, quatre de ces choses immondes? " at the perplexed expressions on his guest faces, Andre apologized, "I'm sorry, but four of those foul creations? Five with this one? What else did that monster do this too?"
"The Cup of Helga Hufflepuff, the Locket of Salazar Slytherin, his old Diary and the ring of his father's family, the Gaunts." Dumbledore supplied.
" Mon dieu, he really had a problem with the Founders. You say these others are destroyed?"
"Not destroyed. The Cup has been purified and the Locket, Diary and Ring have all been destroyed. This, we suspect, is the last one that he created before his demise at the hands of young Harry here. If we can purify this last object, then perhaps we will have dealt with Voldemort for good, lest he has already found a way to regain his body." Though Dumbledore doubted that Voldemort had managed to do so just yet, after all he would need some of the blood from Harry or someone else that Voldemort considered an enemy. Voldemort's vanity would ensure that it had to be Harry, he would allow nothing less.
Andre looked upon his guests, trying to catch any form of lie or ill will among them. The worst he found was the eyes of the younger wizard. Young Mr. Potter was staring at him with a gaze he knew really well from his work. It was the eyes that told him that no matter what happened here today, the frame of the diadem would be in this young wizards hands. Should that mean harm to him or his, then so be it.
They were eyes that worried Andre greatly, because he hadn't seen such sharpness in many years.
"You say that Gringotts can purify them diadem of the horcrux, after that I assume you will let it remain with my family?" he asked, glancing away from Harry momentarily.
Not daring to risk his usual grandfatherly visage, Dumbledore nodded sharply before speaking, "Indeed. Once the item his been purified and we are sure it is no longer a horcrux, then it may remain with you. We will make no attempt to remove it from you or your family, now or in the future."
Andre didn't look entirely convinced, he knew Dumbledore well. Well enough to know that anything the old wizards aid had to be taken with a grain of salt before anything else. However, there was something different this time. There wasn't any attempts at subtle manipulation or twisting of words. The concern for the item, and Andre suspected, the two young people beside him, where visible as day. It was what made him trust Dumbledore this time.
"Very well, Dumbledore. I'll go to Gringotts with the item and get it purified," Andre stated after a while.
There was visible relief on the three British magicals faces, another sign of their sincerity, Andre thought.
"Perhaps you would allow us to accompany you to the bank? It would ensure that we could return to Britain much sooner than we had originally anticipated," Dumbledore inquired as they all rose to head for the exit.
"I don't see the harm, just make sure not to draw too much attention. I don't wish for more people to know about this than necessary. It's enough that you are here, in my home, that alone will send the media into a frenzy about what the possible reason could be." Andre looked towards Harry with an amused smile, "They might even think you are here to negotiate a marriage contract for young Harry here."
Dumbledore allowed himself the chuckle and looked towards his two companions. Harry didn't look all that happy with the prospect, nor the joke for that matter. Vanessa, however, looked like she wasn't going to worry about it at all.
"I'm sorry, sir. He is already engaged. To me." She deadpanned with a stare that dared the older French wizard to challenge her on the subject.
Andre lifted an eyebrow in wonder, "I see? Then I suppose a congratulation is in order, is it not?"
"Thank you," Vanessa said with a grin.
The French branch of Gringotts certainly held more than a few similarities to its British counterpart. The same poem was written across the walls as you entered the bank, though it was written if French for obvious reasons.
"Once we enter, Translation Charms will be applied to you by the wards, this will let you understand the goblins. Unless of course you speak fluent French, in which case you can disable the charm at your leisure," Andre informed them before pushing upon the massive doors.
Dumbledore followed Andre inside, and not a second later did he wish that he had waited until his two young companions had entered before going himself.
Harry and Vanessa had barely set food inside the bank before the sound of a dragon roaring began echoing through the main floor. The door's slammed behind them and guards began funneling out of huge stone doors, armored to the teeth, some quite literally having sharpened metal teeth. Before anyone could really think up a reaction, ten goblin guards surrounded Harry and Vanessa, each pointing wicked looking speaks in their direction.
Harry especially didn't like the reverse hooks sitting at the sides of the spearhead, that looked like it would make rather short work of any of his limbs. 25 year old body or not. Vanessa was concerned with a different matter, namely the exact reason why they triggered an alarm. They were not transformed, so it wasn't that, and from what she knew they hadn't exactly been on the outs with the goblins. Hell, she had a lucrative deal written up with the British branch, so what the hell was going on.
A goblin, larger than any of the four magicals had ever seen, limped out of a back room. He was wearing a small coal colored suit that stood in stark contrast to his almost bleach white skin, squinted red eyes were drilling holes into the two youngest heads.
"Spies, how very bold of you to think that you could simply walk through our wards without getting caught," the goblin stated with a sneer as he passed through some of the guards.
"Spies?!" Vanessa retorted angrily, "who the ruddy hell would we be spying for?"
The goblin sneered, revealing just how many teeth he was missing, "you both reek of dark elven magic, you dare tell us that you aren't working for them?"
Vanessa's head snapped to look at Harry, or more specficially, towards his wrist that held Thymea in its wand form in a holster. Harry caught her gaze and followed her eyes, realizing what she was thinking.
Gathering his thoughts, Harry took a massive breath and hoped for the best.
"I'm Harry James Potter, Herald of the Goddess and servant of the Dark Queen Amorpha. I carry the emblem of the royal house, Thymea, Heart of the Forest," withdrawing the wand from its holster, he spun it, transformed it to its staff form, and slammed it into the ground, sending a shockwave through the room and silencing the muttering goblins, "If any of you here know of the Dawn War, you will know this weapon!"
Everyone was holding their breath and waiting for the goblins to react. The relation between the goblins and dark elves were known worldly to be bordering on constant war. The British goblins had made some deals with the dark elves after the wars, and the rest of the goblin nations looked upon them with disdain for it. Of course, that did not mean that they did not recognize a good deal when they saw it, begrudging respect and all that.
"Then what, Herald…" the lead goblin seemed to look for the words, "are you seeking here in our bank?" he finally seemed to decide on.
"I've come in company of Lord Delacour to make a business transaction with Gringotts; would you deny me this, master goblin?" Harry growled, long since abandoning proper tact and tone.
The goblin visibly straightened himself before replying, "Of course not, Lord Herald, what would this business proposition encompass?"
"This is best not discussed around prying ears," Harry replied with a furious glare at the wizards and witches that were standing by the various stalls and watching in wide eyed curiosity.
"Hmm, quite," the goblin agreed with a sneer towards the same wizards and witches, "if you will follow me, Lord Delacour and Lord Herald, we shall discuss this in my office."
"Thank you, master goblin." Harry replied with a nod and then gestured for Vanessa to follow him.
Dumbledore walked next to Andre and tried his best to answer the frantic French wizards questions about how a human was the Herald of one of the Big Three and how the hell he was wielding the weapon of a royal house. The aged wizard did peer back and look upon his two young companions that seemed to be in their own conversation.
"Okay, how did you know that would work?" Harry finally asked once he figured they were long enough away from the three in front of them.
"I didn't, I actually wanted to explain the Dark Elven magic by pointing out you were using a Dark Elven staff, and then just hope they bought it. If they didn't, then I would mention our visit to the Dark Queen's castle and hope that would win them over," she replied with a shrug and a grin, "but your explanation also worked."
"Only you, Vanessa, only you," Harry mumbled with a grin.
The rest of the walk to their guide's office was done in silence. Dumbledore was watching the walls as they went along, enjoying the artwork that was engraved into the ancient stone walls. Not that many people knew that he used to be quite a history buff when he was younger. Of course there is no need to let his students know that he, the great (ahem, sarcasm) Albus Dumbledore, skipped History of Magic to study the subject in the library instead.
Stepping through some beautifully carved stone doors, the group of four found themselves in a Spartan looking office, very much mirroring the ones in Gringotts Britain. All there was in the room was a long row of filing cabinets, a single desk and four chairs that appeared as they each walked through the door to the room.
"Sit," grumbled the goblin as he took his own seat and glared at them.
Once everyone was seated, the goblin cleared his throat, "I'm Cuttooth, manager of Gringotts French branch," his beady eyes turned onto Harry, "Now what, Lord Herald, is your business with Gringotts this day?"
"Well met, Cuttooth," Harry began with a formal recognition, "I'm here today to right a wrong. Lord Delacour is in the possession of an item that has been tainted, and we seek Gringotts expertise in purging the item of this foul filth so that the family can enjoy their heirloom in piece," Harry finished his speech with a gesture towards Andre, whom pulled out a shrunken box and placed it upon the desk.
Cuttooth brandished a dagger and swung it over the box, growing it back up to its usual size. Clawed fingers traced along the lock and sprang it open, with a careful motion, the lid was lifted until the item became visible to Cuttooth's greedy eyes.
"Mmm… I can smell what you mean, Lord Herald, and Gringotts will happily eradicate such a foul piece of magic," Cuttooth stated as he closed and locked the box once again.
"For a fee, of course," Andre interjected with a knowing smile, having dealt with Cuttooth in the past.
"Yes of course, Lord Delacour. For a long-standing client such as the Delacour's I am sure we can work up a favorable cost. You must understand that Gringotts wishes to ensure that we aren't held accountable if the item in question is destroyed during the purification process. It is, after all, an ancient artifact," Cuttooth explained with a small gesture towards the wooden box.
With another pass of the dagger, Cuttooth summoned a piece of parchment that he looked over for a moment before handing it to Andre. The French wizard spent a good while looking over the contract, as he realized it was, that stated that the agreed upon a mount would be taken from his vault and the specified item would be purified by Gringotts goblins, though they wouldn't take responsibility if the item couldn't handle the process of purification.
Pulling a self-inking quill from his pocket, Andre signed the document and watched as it flashed golden for a moment before vanishing. Cuttooth nodded his head in acceptance and dropped off his chair with a grin, grabbed the box and began heading for the door.
"You may observe the process, Lord Delacour. If you will follow me," Cuttooth stated just as he vanished through the door, Andre following close behind him.
The three British wizards that were left behind sat in their seats, stared at the slightly ajar door, and wondered just what was going to happen now.
"Did… did we just get dismissed?" Vanessa mumbled with wide eyes.
"It would seem, Miss Weaver, that we did," Dumbledore agreed with a nod.
They all left the room with Harry laughing his ass into pieces, constantly rambling about something about Dark Elven brothels and goblin banning?