Chapter Text
Harriet was actually in somewhat of a good mood. For once in her life, things seemed to be going alright. She had her amazing friends, a wonderful boyfriend, a grandfather, a plan on how to get rid of the insane maniacal wizard who was hellbent on killing her, and her biological father had decided to stop being a jerk and had given her a solid apology yesterday. Everything was ready for Bill to take her and a few others to Gringotts for the Horcrux later that day. She missed Sirius, of course, but things seemed to be okay. Too okay. It was suspicious. She felt like there had to be a catch.
The Gringotts squad was small, consisting of her, Bill, Uncle Thor, Grandfather, and Tony. The plan was to hopefully figure out her finances as well as acquire whatever magical artifact Voldemort had decided to infect with a slice of his parasitic soul. She still got the heebie-jeebies when she thought about the fact that part of him had been inside her. It made her feel disgusted and violated and it was just so wrong.
Their ragtag group of five approached one of the tellers, whose glare lessened just the slightest bit when he saw Bill, who cheerfully addressed him. “Merry met, Teller Gornuk! How are you on this fine day?”
“The day is tolerable at best, Cursebreaker Weasley,” the goblin grumbled flatly, giving Bill a slight grimace. It may have also been a smile. Harriet couldn’t tell. The only thing she was sure about was that there were a few too many teeth showing for her to feel entirely comfortable. “State your name and business.”
“Harriet Potter is here to speak with her account manager with her father Anthony Stark accompanying her. I’m here with the gods Thor and Loki to hopefully meet with Ragnork for a moment. It shouldn’t take long.”
Gornuk looked at them suspiciously. “What business do you have with the bank head?”
“It’s confidential, but it has to do with a cursed artifact.”
There was a long, long pause as Gornuk evaluated what Bill had said, glaring slightly, before he relented. “Fine. Griphook will escort you first to meet with Heiress Potter-Black’s account managers and then you may meet with Head Ragnork if and only if he deigns to see you. Do not get your hopes up, as he is very busy and has far better things to do.” He rang a little bell, and Griphook materialized out of nowhere right beside their party, making Tony yelp. Griphook sneered at him.
“Follow,” Griphook said brusquely before walking off briskly, not bothering to wait for them.
“Friendly bunch,” Tony muttered under his breath as the group hurried to catch up, receiving another sneer, though this time from Gornuk and the teller at the nearby window as well.
They followed Griphook through the marble hallways of the bank, not going into the underbelly like Harriet had before when she went to her vault. The walls were covered with relief carvings depicting gruesome war scenes full of blood-thirsty goblins defeating their foes in often excessively violent ways. Thor looked quite delighted at the images of the goblins’ prowess in battle.
Finally, the group reached a rather opulent office, featuring uncomfortable furniture obviously, and possibly maliciously, designed for someone shorter than the typical wizard as well as a charming pair of war-axes hanging from the wall that had suspicious reddish-brown stains on the blades. Sitting on one side of the carven stone desk was a squat goblin that had a decidedly cantankerous air about him. Griphook ushered them into the room.
“Please sit,” intoned the goblin. “I am Sharpfang, account manager for the Potter estate. I have been waiting a long time for you to meet with me, Heiress Potter-Black.”
With that ominous greeting, Griphook slammed the door shut behind them, and Harriet entered the room fully, sitting cautiously on one of the chairs. “I apologize, Manager Sharpfang. I wasn’t aware that you wished to meet with me.”
“Of course, you weren’t,” he harrumphed, “not with that awful wizard as your magical guardian. He should be ashamed of himself. He proclaims to be the champion of Muggleborns and creatures, but he’s never done one thing to actually help us!”
“We’re no fans of Dumbledore ourselves,” Harriet interjected.
“Good. You’re intelligent for wizards. Now that you’ve finally managed to stumble your way here, we have much to discuss. We recently discovered some egregious mismanagements with your account. There were multiple unauthorized payments made that Dumbledore decided to deposit into his own accounts. You should be pleased to know that the goblin accomplices were tried, charged, and summarily executed. We are attempting to get your money back, as well as the numerous artifacts and heirlooms he has misappropriated from both the Potter and the Black estates in the past decade.” Harriet couldn’t find it in herself to be surprised that Dumbledore had been stealing from her. “As the last scion of the aforementioned families, you have inherited the two Lordships, including their seats on the Wizengamot. I recommend educating yourself about Wizarding etiquette before you continue to make an ignorant fool of yourself. You have been in the Wizarding world for over five years, now, Heiress Potter-Black. You have no excuse for not knowing the customs.”
Harriet winced, because while that really hurt, it was quite accurate. There was so much about the Wizarding world that she didn’t know about, and she couldn’t just keep bungling through life the way she was right now. “Thank you for the advice, Manager Sharpfang. I will do as you suggested.”
The goblin harrumphed. “At least you have some manners. Financially, your accounts have remained stagnant without any income since the previous Lord and Lady Potter died. Would you be interested in making any investments while you’re here?” Sharpfang had a gleam in his eye, but so did Tony, who leaned forward in interest.
“We would love to,” he said. Harriet sat back, letting Tony take control as the conversation quickly devolved into a battle of the minds between him and the goblin, with them both throwing around terms and phrases that Harriet had no hope of understanding. She looked at Thor, who gave her a commiserating look in response. Seeing that Tony was just getting started, she resigned herself to a long wait.
~~~
Loki was bored. He found all this talk about investments to be rather dreary and sitting there listening to them blather on was a travesty considering the building he was in was absolutely inundated with the delicious feeling of unfamiliar magic that was just begging to be investigated. He was languishing away here while he could be exploring! It was such a waste of his time. But he wasn’t the God of Mischief for nothing. Leaving an illusionary clone of himself behind sitting in his chair, Loki phased through the walls and slipped out of the room.
He wandered the halls a bit, peeking into rooms, and was disappointed to find mainly offices, though he did stumble across a nice ritual chamber with runes carved not only on the walls, but the floor and ceiling, too. He’d probably come back to look at them later, but what he really wanted to do was explore the vaults. He was curious to see what protective measures the goblins had taken, because they were sure to be entertainingly violent. The goblins were delightful little creatures filled with bloodthirst, and he recalled the poem on the front doors fondly. Yes, the vaults were sure to be exciting. And maybe while he was done there, he could find that wretched soul piece. And possibly pilfer a magical artifact or two. If they were locked in a vault, they obviously weren’t in use, and wouldn’t be missed.
He walked through the underground tunnels using the jar with the vile soul in it as a dowsing rod, making a few stops along the way when he felt the magic of anything especially interesting. The traps the goblins had devised were devilishly ingenious and just plain devilish, and Loki had a fantastic time slipping past them. He collected a handful of rare books that would be interesting for later, as well as a chronolometer and a knife that felt pleasantly cursed and made his hand tingle.
Getting deeper underground, Loki could tell that he was getting closer to the vault that contained the soul fragment, but he took one last detour when he saw a burst of fire from down one of the hallways. It was definitely a dragon, a creature that Loki held a special fondness for. Because of this, he quickly grew enraged when he saw the horrible conditions the dragon was suffering under. The very sight of those awful shackles made him think of his poor son Fenrir, and he knew he was going to rescue this dragon since he couldn’t protect his son.
It was honestly pathetically easy to release the dragon from her bonds. The cuffs, though goblin wrought, were nothing compared to Loki’s magic, and they shattered as frost spread out from his hand when he grasped them. The dragon howled in pain and rage, but Loki gently shushed her, healing the raw and scarred skin that lay beneath the cuffs. The dragon leaned down, and nuzzled Loki’s shoulder gently in thanks, but Loki just grew more furious when he saw the dragon’s blinded eyes. No creature deserved to be treated like this, and he planned on coming back to punish the goblins once they put down that nasty wizard who had been plaguing his granddaughter.
Expending a fair bit of magic, Loki was able to shrink down the dragon until she could fit in his pocket, and another gentle brush of a spell sent the poor creature to sleep for the time. He continued through the tunnels until he finally reached the vault. He could feel the pulsing of darkness radiating from the vault, and he didn’t hesitate to freeze the door and shatter it like he did with the cuffs. There was a silly little charm that made some of the items duplicate and burn, but he brushed them off with a wave of his hand. The center of the darkness was a golden cup emblazoned with a badger of all things, and Loki quickly siphoned the soul out of the cup and into the jar. He then slipped the cup into his other pocket, as well as a charm bracelet that had runestones dangling from it that he thought Harriet might like. There were a couple other knick-knacks that he took, nabbing anything that looked especially interesting, valuable, or important. Anyone who served the so called “Dark Lord” deserved to lose their magical artifacts.
Loki didn’t bother repairing the door on his way out, instead returning directly to the room where he had left the others. Thor and Harriet looked bored while Tony was eagerly talking to the goblin, and Loki snuck in invisibly before merging with the illusion he had left sitting in his chair. Harriet gave him a curious look, and he just winked. Hopefully she’d find the dragon just as precious as he had.
~~~
The investment talks had finally ended when Griphook entered the room again. The surly goblin strode directly towards Manager Sharpfang and whispered into his ear. Sharpfang’s face darkened and the temperature in the room dropped a few degrees, making Harriet shiver. An angry goblin was never a good thing.
“Our business has concluded, Heiress Potter-Black. Please see yourselves out,” Sharpfang growled.
“What about meeting with the bank head?” Bill interrupted.
“Our business has concluded and there will be no meeting, Cursebreaker Weasley, so you should see you and your companions out if you wish to still have a job tomorrow.” Bill winced at Sharpfang’s tone, and stood up, gesturing for the rest of them to follow. The entire bank was buzzing with nervous energy as they left, and Bill hurried them along towards the Floo, ushering them through the fireplace and into the kitchen of Grimmauld Place.
“I don’t think I’ve seen the goblins that worked up before,” Bill commented. “At least not since that break-in a few years ago. It’s a shame we didn’t have a chance to meet with Ragnork. We still don’t know whose vault the Horcrux is even in!”
“Actually, it won’t be a problem anymore. I managed to acquire it whilst the rest of you were discussing finances,” Loki said, pulling the cup out of his pocket and placing it on the table.
“You stole from Gringotts?” Harriet exclaimed.
“What? Is it supposed to be hard? I was frankly disappointed by the quality of protective measures the goblins employed,” he scoffed. “I expected better and was profoundly let down.”
“I’m going to leave while I have even a shred of plausible deniability about this,” Bill said. “I heard nothing, and I was never here. I’ll let the others know we’re back and that we were successful.”
As soon as he was gone, Loki began pulling some of his plunder out from his pockets and set the items on the table next to the goblet. Tony and Thor moved closer to see what he had stolen, and Loki quickly snatched the knife back when Thor picked it up. “That one’s mine,” he said. “You can have the badger cup.”
“What’s this?” Harriet asked, picking up what looked like a heavy, tarnished silver pocket watch that seemed to hum when she held it.
“It’s called a chronolometer. It’s a rather nifty device that can slow time down when activated for just the person holding it. You should keep it. It may be useful in the future,” Loki explained. He handed her the bracelet he had pilfered as well. “You should also take this. The runestones should offer mild protection against fire, poison, and minor curses.”
Harriet grinned and slipped the bracelet on while placing the chronolometer into her pocket. “Thank you!”
He smiled fondly back at her. “It was my pleasure, child.”
“Did you get me anything?” Tony interjected.
“As a matter of fact, I did.” Loki gave him an ornate hand mirror. The moment Tony looked into it, the mirror began to loudly insult Tony’s goatee. Harriet giggled, making Loki smirk smugly.
“Very funny,” he grouched, even though he was secretly pleased to hear Harriet laugh.
“I took one more thing, though it was more of a rescue,” Loki said, before pulling out the tiny sleeping dragon and placing her gently on the table. The dragon snored slightly, exhaling a small puff of smoke and some sparks that scorched the wooden table. Loki canceled his previous enchantment and softly stroked the little creature on the head to rouse her. The dragon stood up and stretched, before stumbling around blindly on the table until Harriet scooped her up in her hand. “They had her bound in chains. I could not in good conscience leave her behind.”
“She’s so small!” Harriet cooed, cradling the tiny dragon up close and caressing her with her other hand. The dragon butted her head up against Harriet’s fingers, asking for more pets, which she gladly gave.
“I did shrink her; she was quite large before. Unfortunately, after being held underground for so long and with her being blind, I don’t think she’ll be able to survive in the wild.”
“Will you be able to cure her blindness?”
“I can try. Actually, would you want to help me?”
“I’d love to!”
“Do you know if there is a rituals room here? It’d be best if we were to attempt the healing there.”
“Yeah, it’s right next to the library. I’ve never been in it, though. Sirius always said it was dangerous, and to not explore it on my own, and he refused to go in there himself. Said that he had bad memories from rituals his family did when he was a kid.”
“All magic, not just rituals, are dangerous if not treated with the utmost respect, but I have faith that you’ll treat magic with the honor it deserves. Come along, we should attempt the ritual while there’s still daylight.”
The rituals room in Grimmauld Place was, well, grim. The walls were blackened with soot and the gray stone floor was stained with what had definitely been blood, and likely human blood at that. There was an overall air of wrongness, and Loki looked displeased when they entered the room. “It will have to do,” he sniffed, before conjuring a pair of plush, green cushions for them to sit on. He sat down delicately, and Harriet followed, gingerly settling onto her pillow across from her grandfather. Loki snapped his fingers, and the room was filled with flickering candles, softening the atmosphere. There was an aroma of incense in the air, now, and the room was feeling less ominous and a bit more like the meditation room back at the Tower. The dragon, still being held by Harriet, lifted her snout and snuffled a bit, likely detecting the shift in the magical aura of their environment.
“Alright, Harriet, let us get started. I want you to clear your mind and focus on your core like we’ve practiced,” Loki said. Harriet closed her mind and started to concentrate on her breathing, falling into the pauses between inhaling and exhaling. She imagined herself sinking down deep into herself, descending a spiral staircase on the inside of her chest until she could see the illuminated orb that represented her magic. Under her grandfather’s tutelage, it had gotten easier and easier for her to visualize her core, and by now the green and golden ball pulsing with warmth was a familiar sight. “Good. Now, I want you to expand your awareness just a bit. Try to spread out through your whole body, and then see if you can visualize the dragon’s core in your hands.”
She slowly started to let her focus widen until she was suddenly blinded by a bursting white star centralized in her hands. It throbbed along with the dragon’s heartbeat and Harriet just sat there, awed. It was so bright, and she gasped. “I see it! Now, what?”
“Pinch off a tendril of magic from your core and stretch it towards the dragon’s core. It should feel a bit like unraveling some thread from a spool. When the tip of your magic reaches the dragon, your core and hers should snap together like magnets and you can start to feed magic into her, and she should be able to use the additional energy to remove the curse on her eyes.”
That all sounded easier said than done, but Harriet was both eager to help and stubborn when it came to challenging things. It took her quite a few tries to get a grip on her core, and even more tries before she was able to tease out a strand. It felt warm, smooth, and heavy in her hands, strumming with power. She pulled slowly, and the strand got longer and longer until the end came close to the dragon’s core and a connection suddenly snapped into place. She felt electrified, her skin buzzing and her hair rising and splaying out from static. Colors were seemed so saturated, and the air positively pulsed with magic. She had never felt so alive!
The connection broke after a few moments, and Harriet felt very tired and oddly empty, but the tiny dragon was looking at her gratefully with eyes that could actually see. No longer milky and opaque, the dragon had molten silver eyes with a ring of blue around the irises. Harriet was pretty sure that more than just her eyes had been healed, too. The dragon’s posture was less tense and there were definitely fewer scars than there had been before, and her scales seemed much more lustrous. Harriet was rather proud, if she did say so herself.
“Well done, Harriet!” Loki said, smiling at her and looking quite proud himself. Harriet grinned back, giggling a bit as the dragon scampered up her arm with little needle claws digging into her sleeve before the dragon settled down on Harriet’s shoulder. “She’s taken quite a liking to you. You should keep her with you. Dragons are known for their loyalty, and she’s sure to be a good friend.”
“I will!” Harriet promised. “What do you think I should name her?”
“Name her? Why don’t you ask her what her name is?”
Harriet looked at him, confused. “I don’t speak dragon.”
“Have you ever tried to speak to one?”
Harriet paused. She had not, and if she was able to speak to dragons, she was going to be extremely upset that she hadn’t tried to speak to the nesting mother dragon during the First Task. She looked at the dragon, and feeling a bit dumb, said, “Hello. Do you have a name?”
The dragon looked back at her for a moment, before opening her mouth and saying, “My name is Jormag, but I doubt that you’ll be able to understand me. You dumb two-leggers never know what I’m saying.” Harriet startled so hard Jormag almost fell off her shoulder, fluttering her wings instead to keep her balance and hissing smoke in displeasure. The dragon’s speech sounded similar to Parseltongue, just a bit more guttural.
“Your name is Jormag?”
“You understood me?” the dragon asked back.
“I did! It’s very nice to meet you, Jormag. My name is Harriet.”
“It’s nice to meet you, too, young mage. Thank you for healing me. I had long-since given up hope of being above ground before I died. Your assistance shall be returned. I shall be staying with you until I have deemed my debt to be sufficiently repaid,” the little dragon said imperiously.
“You don’t have to pay me back; I just did what anyone else should have done.”
“The way you healed me was far beyond the ability of most magic users. Too much humility is unbecoming. You should take pride in your work and be more accepting of gratitude. It’s very rude, otherwise,” the dragon scolded, and Harriet blushed, feeling a bit chagrined.
“I’m sorry, Jormag. Thank you for thanking me.”
“Better,” the dragon sniffed. “You should bring me food. I am unable to feed myself in this size, and I’m positively famished.”
“Alright, I’ll bring you down to the kitchen and get you something to eat.” Harriet went downstairs with Jormag still perched on her shoulder. “We have some very rare steak that we keep for Remus so hopefully that’ll work for you until we’re able to get something more suitable.” She pulled out a piece of steak from the cooling cupboard and placed the plate on the table. Jormag hopped off Harriet and flapped over before absolutely devouring the meat, tearing into it ferally. Harriet was a bit glad Jormag was still so small, because she’d be terrifying full-size, not that she wasn’t terrifying while being pint-sized. Harriet was really starting to understand Hagrid’s love for dragons; they were magnificent!