After a very calm and peaceful lunch, Harry and Bellatrix mutually decided that they needed to separate so that he could take care of his daily business and so that she could work on her various projects and studies.
When Harry entered his office humming a cheerful tune, he found a letter from Cuthbert Mockridge awaiting him. Harry eagerly took his seat and broke the seal holding the heavy parchment shut. He unfolded the letter and read:
Dear Mr. P-
My wife and I have decided that your generous proposal would be beneficial to all concerned, therefore I accept. Avoid using owl post until further notice. To work out the necessary details, feel free to call on me during the late hours of the evening on any night.
'B'M
Harry smiled as he crumpled up the letter and wandlessly incinerated it. It was good to know that Mockridge was smart and cautious enough to realize that owl could be intercepted. Although he doubted that any letter mailed using Nair'icaix's unique postal system could be intercepted, he had to give way to the fact that it was best not to have secrets on paper anyway.
"That's wonderful!" Narcissa squealed, reacting as if she was a much younger woman as she hugged her sister who had just arrived in her new and vastly more comfortable bedroom. It had been a long time since she had been involved with a family member's pregnancy. "What did Harry say when you told him?"
Bellatrix smiled happily, sat on the edge of Narcissa's bed, and fell back. "He was quite surprised. After all, how many men his age find out their wife is pregnant? The first thing he asked was if I was okay. Then we kissed and cuddled the whole morning!"
"I wish that I was married to a man who treated me like that. When I told Lucius that I was pregnant, the first thing he asked was whether or not it would be a boy. I don't know what he would have done if Draco had been a female." Narcissa said as she joined Bellatrix on the bed.
Bellatrix smiled and gave a vague answer due to the fact that she was still cherishing the time spent between her and Harry that morning. "He probably would have neglected the child and gotten you pregnant again as soon as possible."
"Probably." Narcissa agreed. "Of course this is a better reaction than the one you would have received from Rodolphus. I imagine that he would have been greatly disturbed by the prospects of fatherhood."
"Yes, he would have." Bellatrix stated sadly. "But now I have someone who, just like me, wants children." Bella paused as tears of joy once more come to her face, "I still can't believe that he wants children with me… and that we're going to be parents. I'm going to be a mother."
Narcissa simply held her sister as they lay in silence, contemplating the subject until the blonde haired older sister decided to speak up. "I'm a mother, but not a very good one."
"You shouldn't blame yourself for Draco…" Bellatrix said slowly. "Lucius never really gave you a chance to be a real mother to him."
"Maybe you're right." Narcissa sighed. "But I'll never know, will I? Let's move onto a happier topic though. Have you thought of any good names yet?"
Mockridge entered his living room and smirked when he saw Harry sitting in one of the chair located in a dark corner. "You're not going to give me a chance to change my mind, are you?"
"No," Harry said, "I'm not. I also want to get the plans moving as soon as possible. Timing will play a significant role in how things turn out. If you save the day too soon, then they won't appreciate your efforts as much. On the other hand, if the bank doesn't open in time, what's the point?"
"All right then." Bert acknowledged. "Your reasoning is certainly sound."
"Where is your wife?" Harry inquired.
Bert shrugged as he sat down. "She has decided that it is best if she can remain ignorant of our dealings. Plausible denial, if you will. Then of course, I get the impression that she is still suspicious of you."
"Naturally." Harry muttered. He understood the attitude of Mockridge's wife, but it still stung somewhat. Being treated as an outcast of society by people that he held basic respect for hurt him.
Mockridge sat down and immediately launched the discussion into making plans. "The Ministry, or rather, Fudge- now controls the media. WWN has always been under control of the Ministry and the Ministry Chronicle has assumed the delivery of newspapers to all of the former subscribers of the Daily Prophet. If the bank opens, like you seem to think you can arrange, how are we to communicate to the general public that it was 'my' doing?"
"That is a difficult obstacle." Harry said quietly as he pondered the problem. "We'll have to communicate directly to the public and hope that whatever we tell them spreads by word of mouth."
A wand was produced from Bert's robes and a platter of biscuits was conjured. "A crowd must be gathered then. It must be some sort of public event or conference. In order to gather they must have a motivation to do so. Who would a great deal of people come to listen to?" Mockridge mused aloud as he helped himself to some of his own cookies and motioned for Harry to do so as well.
"I don't think that you'll be able to attract many as the Head of the Goblin Liaison Office." Harry said dryly as he reached for the platter.
"True." Mockridge confessed.
Harry grinned. "I reckon that the goblins could though. Gringotts currently holds all of British wizardom by their throats, via their purses. People will come if Gringotts has something to say to them, especially if there's a possibility that the bank will open."
"All right then." Bert nodded. "If your influence is as widespread as you claim, it shouldn't be a problem for you to convince the goblins in charge at the bank to call some sort of conference. The Chronicle won't ignore that kind of an announcement and even if it did, letters could be sent to all of Gringott's patrons."
"Next question: When do we have the goblins hold this conference?" Harry said slowly. "Would it be wise to announce that you're beginning negotiations, or to simply announce that you've 'negotiated' a bank re-opening the day before Gringotts re-opens?"
Mockridge shrugged. "Somewhere in between I think. If the event is something that they've expected, then my 'achievement' won't be as appreciated and Fudge would have time to claim that it was his idea and that he's working hard to back me up. On the other hand, if it is announced the day before, they'll get their money and not give me a second thought."
"How about announcing that an agreement has been made and that the bank will re-open about a week before it actually does?" Harry suggested. "That way, they'll still be hungry for their money, and will eagerly look forward to the day it opens and keep in mind who saved the day."
"Assuming of course that they don't go out and splurge with their last saved up funds, all the while forgetting about the current situation and then going to the bank to re-fill their purses as if nothing happened in between." Bert grinned. "That's what my wife would do anyway I would too, if I were more into shopping."
Harry nibbled on one of the biscuits thoughtfully as he considered the valid point that Mockridge had made. "That's where timing comes in. We have to wait until there's no money to splurge with. Everyone needs to be within millimeters of the end of the line."
"And where is the end of the line?"
"If we cross it, then we'll find out." Harry said, smiling at his fatalistic humor. "You're involved with the Ministry and more qualified to make judgements as to the condition of society than I am, since I'm somewhat removed from everything. I, on the other hand, am more connected with the goblins who are economic experts. We'll both need to keep our ears open."
"What about turning public opinion away from Fudge?" Mockridge asked.
Harry stood up, communicating that their conversation was nearly over. "I'll handle that. When it looks as if things are about to get to the point at which we can announce the re-opening of Gringotts, I'll start making use of some… information my wife acquired and her sister's connections."
"What about an actual agreement with the goblins? It would look best if some sort of document is produced with me signature on it, and the Ministry technically does need to renegotiate some points of… procedure with the goblins anyway."
"I'll let you know when I can arrange a favorable meeting for everyone. It would be best if I didn't spring you on the goblins without their prior knowledge." Harry stated.
Bert winced as he too stood up. "Yes, they don't appreciate surprises. What about communication between us? Will you visit me to find out what I've learned about the situation?"
"No," Harry said, shaking his head, "too many meetings could lead to discovery of our connections. We'll measure the social-economic state of society on a scale of one to ten. Ten being as it is now, zero indicating that the time is ripe to re-open the bank. When you feel that things have gotten slightly worse, owl me a piece of parchment with a nine written on it."
"That's a good idea. What happens when I send you a zero?"
A grim smile spread across Harry's face. "The final blow will be struck against Fudge. I or my followers will coordinate things with you at that point. I'll contact you before then about a meeting with the goblins."
"All right." Mockridge said, betraying his unease at the whole plan for the first time. "I'll just wait for you to contact me then and keep an eye on the situation."
"You do that." Harry said as he pulled his Black Ash wand from his cloak. "Have a nice night."
He then left Cuthbert Mockridge to his thoughts with a faint pop. In an instant, Harry was standing outside Nair'icaix's master-suite. It was quite late, therefore when he entered the room as he sheathed his wand, he saw that his wife had already gone to bed.
A peaceful smile crossed his face as he quickly changed into a pair of muggle shorts and a t-shirt. It felt nice to be able to come home to a loving wife and soon to be family. He climbed into bed as softly as he could, so as not to disturb Bellatrix, but discovered upon settling down that his efforts had been pointless.
She had waited up for him, though she lay in the bed as if asleep. Without saying anything, she turned toward him and buried her face in his shoulder as she snuggled up tightly against him with a peaceful sigh.
A wave of both exhilaration and disappointment shot through Hermione as she answered the last question on the History of Magic final. The final exams were now all over and within a few days, the Hogwarts students would be journeying home to their families… assuming that they were still alive of course.
Ironically, the test had covered goblin rebellions. As the weeks wore on and the sting of a closed bank began to be felt widely, Minister Fudge seemed unable to do anything. The attacks up north had continued and Fudge had tried to rescue his falling popularity by spouting off fierce promises to stay Lord Polairix's hand and bring him to justice, though he was unable to really do anything against Harry.
Hermione's little project of attempting to catch Harry in the act had been put on hold due to the exams and other events. Though Fudge had wasted no time in having a special Portkey sent to her, Hermione had not had the time to make good use of it.
That's why she was both exhilarated and disappointed about the end of exams. Normally she loved to take the exams and display her studied knowledge to receive the instructor's approval, but that normal feeling had been countered by her plans to visit a potential village to be attacked the night of the last exam.
The feeling was further magnified by the fact that every village attacked between the time she had drawn up her list and now had been on her list of predicted village. All she had to do was depend on a little luck. And as callous as it was to admit, the attacked villages which had been crossed of the list left a much higher chance of getting the right village sooner.
"Hermione!"
"What?" Hermione responded automatically, as she pulled herself from the reverie she had sunk into. Apparently Ron had been trying to get her attention for a few moments.
"I was wondering if you wanted to go out to the lake for some rest and relaxation." Ron impatiently explained to her.
Hermione glanced at her watched and sighed. "I'm sorry Ron, but I'm committed to do something else tonight and there's not enough time to go to the lake. Maybe tomorrow?"
"All right." Ron sighed. "See you later then?"
"Maybe." Hermione said, avoiding her true intentions. "See you later then." Then, in order to prevent Ron from asking more questions, she sped up quickly made her way to Gryffindor Tower where she stashed the notes that she had studied while they waited for the test began.
She quickly changed her robes to clothing that would blend in better with the inhabitants of her chosen village, and promptly pulled the wooden cube that served as her special portkey from its hiding place in her trunk.
Without wasting another moment, she uttered an activation code and a short jerk later, found herself standing in a discreet alley in one of the random villages. She wasn't sure which, because it didn't matter the first time.
Responding to the rumble of her stomach, Hermione made her way out of the alley and down the street and into the first pub that she came upon. The patrons all gave her strange looks, being that she was not from around the area, but generally ignored her.
Would an attack happen here? Hermione wondered. Tonight? The very thoughts caused her to shiver. When the gruff man behind the counter asked what she wanted, she unconsciously replied. "An order of Fish and Chips, and then a Butterbeer please."
"A what?" The man retorted.
Hermione wanted to smack herself. How could she expect to deal with a possible attack if she couldn't order normal food in a Muggle pub? Apparently the exams had worn her down more than she had realized. Recovering her senses, she quickly amended her order. "Just water, please."
The man glanced at her suspiciously, but nevertheless, filled her order. A few moments later, she was at an empty table mechanically chewing on her food. She could have been eating the worst tasting food imaginable, and not have noticed.
She glanced at her watch. 6:07. The attacks usually began between six and ten. The last one had been at around nine with the one before at eight-thirty. Logic would dictate that the next would be at nine-thirty to ten. But Harry would be clever enough to realize that predictability was bad. Therefore, he would attack early. Maybe. Six had already passed.
Hermione pulled herself form her thoughts and was startled to discover that the food was all gone. Even the water had be drank, though she had not noticed. Before she could sink into her musings again, an explosion rocked the village. Apparently, she was not to be disappointed.
Draco laughed as he watched the Muggles who had only moments ago been going about their day in a peaceful fashion. Now however, now they were running and screaming as they were unsure as to who their attackers were, or what they were being bombarded by.
"Concentrate your attacks on the Muggle houses and shops." Voldemort hissed loudly to the Death Eaters who were clothed in gray instead of their normal black garb. "Count Trazkaban's forces will be counter-attacking within fifteen minutes at the most. The Ministry in twenty. We must be gone before any Aurors appear."
Draco followed Voldemort through the quaint streets as Death Eaters began to cast loud and explosive curses at houses, and sometimes people. Though Voldemort always enjoyed torturing anybody, pure-blood, half-blood, Death Eater, not Death Eater, or Muggle at any time of the day, he was now refraining as it was more necessary for him to direct the Death Eaters in their own attacks.
Though he was also a Death Eater, Draco was refraining from casting actual curses. Voldemort had ordered him not to cast any magic whatsoever. Malfoy thought that it must be because the Dark Lord suspected that Dumbledore had secretly put tracers on student wands after Potter had been arrested for some reason. Though Draco thought it unlikely, Voldemort was in charge.
However, as they rounded a corner, the opportunity to do more than watch presented itself. An evil grin appeared on the blonde haired Slytherin's face as he cast his eyes on none other than Hermione Granger. "My Lord, I do believe there is someone I should introduce you to."
Hermione pulled her wand from her clothes and made her way out into the street. Hopefully, she could get to Harry before he and his followers disappeared or before she got hurt seriously. As soon as she exited the building, she spotted the gray-cloaked men casting curses everywhere.
They all wore cloaks the same exact color as those Harry and his followers had been wearing during the confrontation after his first attack. Doubts of Harry's guilt immediately fled from her mind. Here was proof.
She summoned her resolve and began to do her best to contain the damage that was being inflicted and to prevent it by fighting the attackers. Her stunners didn't seem to be doing much good though. As soon as one went down, they were immediately revived. It was as if preventing casualties and or captures was their paramount goal rather than to destroy.
Suddenly she heard a voice that chilled her blood and bones. "Hello, Mudblood."
Hermione turned around and came face to face with a smirking Draco Malfoy and the wizard everyone feared… Lord Voldemort. "Draco… what are you doing here?" she gasped, absolutely horrified.
"Why, ruining Potter's reputation." Draco sneered.
"What do you mean?" Hermione whispered, the truth of Harry's innocence slowly beginning to dawn in her mind.
Voldemort addressed the young man, ignoring Hermione's presence for the most part. "This is the most brilliant witch of your age Draco?" Voldemort asked in disgust. He didn't even wait for a response. "We have no time for this. We shall have to deal with her later."
"L-l-later?" Hermione stuttered?
"Do you honestly think that I can allow you to tell everyone who 'really' attacked this village?" Voldemort asked, a hint of disdain in his voice.
Hermione just shook her head, unable to think clearly as scrambled thoughts swam in her mind. Harry, Azkaban, Hogwarts, the Order, the Weasleys, her parents, and Ron. She was so muddled that she didn't even raise her wand in self-defense as Voldemort hissed a Dark incantation. Her muddled thoughts were completely obliterated as blackness swallowed her whole.