The goblin's name was Nagrok, and he had the most calculating gaze Marquas had ever encountered, which was saying something, given that he regularly looked into the eyes of both Albus Dumbledore and Lord Voldemort. They were meeting in a private room above the Hog's Head Inn, a location chosen for its disreputable character and lax approach to privacy. The sort of establishment where people minded their own business if they knew what was good for them.
"You understand," Nagrok said, his long fingers steepled before him, "that what you're proposing constitutes a serious breach of Gringotts security protocols."
"We understand completely," Regulus replied smoothly. He was disguised via Polyjuice as a nondescript middle-aged wizard with forgettable features, while Marquas had adopted the appearance of a gruff, heavily scarred man who looked like he'd seen the wrong end of several curses. "Which is why we're prepared to offer compensation commensurate with the risk."
Marquas observed the negotiation silently, allowing Regulus to take the lead. The young Black heir had a natural talent for these delicate interactions, his pureblood upbringing had included extensive training in negotiation and diplomatic maneuvering, skills that proved valuable in entirely different contexts than his family had intended.
"Compensation," Nagrok repeated, showing teeth that looked unnervingly sharp. "Gold is the traditional offering, of course. But I find myself... unpersuaded that mere gold balances the scales for what you're requesting."
"We anticipated as much," Regulus nodded, reaching into his robes to withdraw a small wooden box. He placed it on the table between them but didn't open it. "Which is why we're prepared to offer something significantly more valuable than gold."
The goblin's eyes fixed on the box with evident curiosity. "And that would be?"
"Information," Regulus stated simply. "Specifically, the detailed alchemy formula for S. Prince Labs' Perpetual Strengthening Solution for precious metals."
Marquas kept his expression neutral despite his surprise. They hadn't discussed offering this particular piece of intellectual property, one of his most valuable commercial innovations, allowing goblin-forged metals to maintain their properties without the traditional requirement for regular reapplication of strengthening charms. It was a trade secret worth a small fortune, one that S. Prince Labs had specifically not patented to prevent the formula from becoming public record.
Nagrok's eyes widened slightly, the only visible reaction, but from a goblin, equivalent to a human gasping in shock. "That formula is... closely guarded."
"Indeed it is," Regulus confirmed. "But my associate here is authorized to provide it in exchange for the information and limited assistance we require."
All eyes turned to Marquas, who gave a controlled nod of agreement, mentally reworking their negotiation strategy. It was a bold move on Regulus's part, but potentially effective, goblins valued craftsmanship and metalworking innovations far above wizard gold.
"I would need to verify the formula's authenticity before providing any assistance," Nagrok stated, caution reasserting itself.
"Of course," Marquas spoke for the first time, his voice deliberately roughened to match his disguise. "The box contains the formula's first three steps, enough to demonstrate authenticity without revealing the complete process. The remaining steps will be provided upon successful completion of our arrangement."
It was a bluff, the box actually contained a list of rare potions ingredients they were prepared to supply, but a calculated one. Marquas could hastily prepare a partial version of the formula if needed, revealing enough to prove its value without compromising the full secret until their objectives were met.
Nagrok considered this for a long moment before opening the box and examining its contents. His expression remained unreadable as he studied the parchment inside, but when he looked up, there was a new sharpness to his gaze.
"The Lestrange vault, that's your target, I cannot provide direct access," Nagrok stated firmly. "The security measures preventing unauthorized entry are beyond even my authority to circumvent. However..." he hesitated, evidently weighing his options. "I could potentially provide a detailed accounting of those security measures, and perhaps a limited window of... reduced vigilance during a specific timeframe."
"That would be most helpful," Regulus acknowledged. "Particularly if accompanied by architectural details of the deep vault levels."
The negotiation continued for another hour, the terms gradually taking shape. Nagrok would provide comprehensive information about the Lestrange vault's defenses, a time window when security patrols would be minimized, and a special token that would temporarily suppress certain magical detection measures. In exchange, he would receive the complete Perpetual Strengthening Solution formula, but only after their mission was completed successfully.
"Three days," Nagrok concluded as they finalized the arrangement. "I will have the information and token prepared by then. We meet again here, same time."
After the goblin departed, Regulus turned to Marquas with a slightly apologetic expression. "I hope I didn't overstep with the formula offer. It seemed the most valuable thing we could provide that wouldn't compromise broader security concerns."
"It was the right call," Marquas assured him, impressed by the young man's quick thinking. "Though we'll need to adjust the formula slightly, effective enough to be valuable, but perhaps with a deliberate limitation that keeps our commercial advantage."
"Slytherin to the core," Regulus grinned, raising his glass in a mock toast. "I knew there was a reason we worked well together."
They spent the remainder of their meeting planning the Gringotts operation in detail, accounting for various contingencies and establishing clear parameters for success. The clock was striking midnight by the time they concluded, both mentally exhausted but satisfied with their progress.
"One Horcrux at a time," Regulus murmured as they prepared to leave separately. "We're actually doing this."
"We are," Marquas confirmed, feeling the weight of their mission. "Though the cup may prove our most challenging acquisition yet."
"Challenging but not impossible," Regulus countered with the confidence of youth. "Between your innovative approach and my family knowledge of the old protections, we have advantages others wouldn't."
As Marquas made his way back to Hogwarts through the bitter February night, he reflected on how much had changed in the months since his arrival in this world. Their "Reasonably Handsome Rebellion" had evolved from a desperate improvisation into a surprisingly effective operation, complete with secure communication protocols, strategic resource allocation, and now goblin informants.
More importantly, they were making tangible progress against Voldemort, progress that had taken years longer in the original timeline. The locket and diadem were already destroyed, the ring likely soon to follow once Dumbledore located it, and now they had a viable approach for the cup.
Success brought its own challenges, however. The more they accomplished, the greater the risk that Voldemort might sense the systematic destruction of his soul anchors. In the original story, he had remained oblivious until very late in the process, but that was with Horcruxes being destroyed over a much longer timeline. Their accelerated approach might alert him sooner.
"A calculated risk," Marquas muttered to himself as he reached the castle gates. "Like everything else in this impossible situation."
••••
The following morning found Marquas teaching his third-year Defense class with only half his attention, the remainder focused on mentally designing the modified strengthening formula they would provide to Nagrok. The students were practicing basic shield charms—a foundational skill he'd insisted they master before moving to more advanced techniques.
"No, Miss Henderson," he corrected automatically as a student's shield flickered erratically. "You're allowing your wand to drift downward during the second motion. Maintain a consistent height throughout."
The young Hufflepuff adjusted her technique, her shield immediately stabilizing into a shimmering half-dome before her.
"Better," Marquas acknowledged with a nod.
His teaching style had evolved over the past months, still demanding and occasionally caustic, but with clear instruction and constructive feedback rather than the bitter mockery that had characterized the original Snape's approach. Students still approached him with caution, but it was the wariness afforded to a strict but fair professor rather than terror of a bullying tyrant.
As the class practiced, a piece of enchanted parchment in his pocket vibrated gently, the notification system he'd established for priority communications from either Dumbledore or Regulus. Given that he'd just seen Regulus the previous night, it was likely Dumbledore.
After dismissing the class with assigned reading on shield variants, Marquas retreated to his office and activated the concealed message. Dumbledore's elegant handwriting appeared on the previously blank parchment:
Success at the old house. Item secured but with complications. Meet in my office at your earliest convenience. Password: Acid Pops.
The ring Horcrux had been found, a significant development, albeit with ominous "complications." In the original timeline, Dumbledore had been cursed while destroying the ring, a injury that eventually contributed to his decision to arrange his own death at Snape's hands. If similar events had transpired in this altered timeline...
Marquas wasted no time, canceling his afternoon office hours and heading directly to the Headmaster's tower. The gargoyle guarding the entrance stepped aside at the password, allowing him to ascend the spiral staircase to Dumbledore's office.
What he found there sent a chill through him despite his mental preparation.
Dumbledore sat behind his desk, looking significantly more haggard than he had just days earlier. His right hand was blackened and withered, wrapped in magical bandages that glowed with containing spells. The curse had indeed struck, just as in the original story.
Shit… this old man again. I thought he'd finally share the knowledge, maybe even tell us he found the ring. But no, he went and destroyed it himself. Brilliant. Just brilliant. Hey, man, don't forget, you're my only plot armor against the Dark Lord, Marquas thought grimly.
"Ah, Severus," the Headmaster greeted him with forced cheer that did nothing to mask his obvious pain. "Thank you for coming so promptly."
"What happened?" Marquas asked sharply, moving closer to examine the damaged hand.
"A momentary lapse in judgment," Dumbledore admitted, wincing slightly as Marquas carefully unwrapped the bandages to assess the damage. "The ring contained not only a Horcrux but another enchantment, a compulsion to wear it. I... resisted, but not quickly enough to avoid contact entirely."
The curse was exactly as Marquas had feared, a withering darkness that had already consumed most of the hand and was spreading slowly up the arm despite the containment spells. In the original timeline, Snape had managed to temporarily contain this curse, but it had been a delaying action at best, giving Dumbledore perhaps a year of life rather than weeks.
"I need to know exactly what you touched and how," Marquas demanded, his mind racing through potential counter-curses. Having foreknowledge of this situation should give him an advantage the original Snape hadn't possessed, if he could just identify the precise nature of the curse.
As Dumbledore explained the encounter in the Gaunt shack, the discovery of the ring hidden beneath the floorboards, the moment of temptation, his partial success in destroying the Horcrux with Gryffindor's sword before the curse struck, Marquas began assembling the components for a diagnostic spell more advanced than anything the original Snape had likely attempted.
Drawing on both Snape's considerable knowledge of dark magic and his own innovative approach to magical problem-solving, Marquas cast a complex detection charm that revealed the curse's structure as a three-dimensional magical construct hovering over Dumbledore's hand, a vindictive piece of spellcraft designed not just to kill but to cause maximum suffering in the process.
"Sophisticated," Marquas murmured, studying the magical signature. "A modified withering curse with self-perpetuating elements. Standard containment won't stop it, it's designed to adapt around barriers."
"Can it be countered?" Dumbledore asked, his voice steady despite the evident pain he was experiencing.
Marquas didn't answer immediately, his mind working through various approaches and dismissing each as inadequate. The original Snape had only managed to slow the curse, not cure it. But the original Snape hadn't had access to some of the experimental techniques Marquas had been developing...