"Right," Harry whispered. "There's a dragon 'round the corner--but it's the opposite direction that the sword wants to go."
"Like that helps!" Ron Weasley shot back in a hushed voice, eyes wide.
"Well, there's nothing for it, because the sword says we're almost there. And there'll be more goblins soon." Harry looked at his two friends evenly. "I just wish that you two weren't here."
"Don't be barking, mate." Ron glanced at Hermione. "You'd not have gotten this far without us. Well, without Hermione, anyway."
"Harry," Hermione interrupted gently. "How are you going to tell which vault is the right one, which is Gryffindor's--and open it at the same time? I don't think that dragon is going to sit around for you to sort it all out!"
"Oh, right," Ron grimaced wryly. "Pardon us, Mr. Dragon, just passing through. Seeing the sights, looting the vaults. Nothing to see here."
Harry couldn't help but chuckle, then his face tightened in concentration.
"Well, I'll have to hold both potions to pour on the door, but then how do I carry the sword? We can't use wands down here!"
"You'd need a third hand, mate." Ron looked morose, remembering some of the pictures from Moste Potente Potions, a book they had used in their second year.
"Ron, that's it! You need a third hand, Harry, someone of your house!"
"Hermione, I don't think that Dudley or Aunt Petunia is going to be any help."
"No, no Harry, they're from your mother's line, anyway." Hermione pursed her lips. "I mean your house, Harry, your house!"
"Oh, bloody right, Harry!" Ron added, a look of dawning comprehension on his face. "Call Gandy!"
The name struck Harry like a ton of bricks. Gandy, the house-elf they had met in Godric's Hollow, Gandy, the house-elf who had faithfully waited for sixteen years for a member of his family to return. Gandy, whose family had served the Potters--and their ancestors, back to Godric Gryffindor, for hundreds of years.
Harry looked at his friends for long moments.
"Hermione, I know how you feel about S.P.E.W., and elf rights, and Gandy could die, just because he's bonded to me."
"Harry, this is about defeating Voldemort." Hermione was impatient. "Dobby told you himself--house-elves will have a much worse fate if Lord Voldemort wins!"
Harry stared at his two friends for long moments, and pursed his lips.
"All right then." Harry turned to the side. "Gandy?"
With a small pop, a small, bald house-elf with batlike ears appeared, already crouched into a low bow.
"Yes, master? How might Gandy serve the last and greatest of the Potters?"
Harry was so determined, he forgot to blush as he always did upon meeting his family's elf. Gandy had far too much Dobby in him.
"All right, Gandy, this is extremely dangerous, and I'm going to need your help..."
The three teens rounded the corner, feet pounding on the ancient stone. Gandy rode astride Harry's shoulder, Godric Gryffindor's sword held high, drawing them onward. Harry held two ancient, finely crafted potion bottles in his hands, one blue, one green.
Behind them they could hear a muffled roar of outrage as the watch-dragon was alerted to their presence, and tried to turn in the confined space. The ground shook as it thrust against the wall, wings thrashed, trying to squirm about.
"Not here, not here...why can't it be this one?" Ron Weasley moaned as they thundered past doorway after vault doorway, Hermione's hand in Ron's as he pulled her on.
"Please, please, oh please!" Hermione mumbled, her eyes fixed on the glinting sword.
Harry, looking ahead, saw a sealed stone archway all the way at the end of the corridor. His heart sank as he somehow knew that it would be the very last vault, the one that gave the dragon the most time to turn around, and the clearest, longest shot at them as they opened the door.
Finally they reached the end of the long tunnel, and as Harry had feared, the sword tip was touching the long sealed door. The grunts, grumbles and roars of the frustrated dragon were getting louder as it finally backed into the intersection, and began to turn about.
Harry looked at the door, and at the two bottles in his shaking hands. They could hear the crash of the dragon as it finally made it's way into the corridor with a great shriek of victory.
"Now would be a good time, Harry." Ron said, glancing over his shoulder. He looked paler than when surrounded by Acromantulas.
"Don't bother him!" Hermione hissed.
Harry set the mouths of the two bottles together, and tried to pour them together in a stream across the door, much as he had seen a goblin run it's finger so many years ago. So important not to spill any of the potion. The fast approaching dragon snorted a great billow of flame, the heat from which dried the back of Harry's black hair to a crackle.
"Harry!" Hermione moaned, glancing over her shoulder. The potions had spread across the surface of the door, and Harry watched in desperate frustration as they just shimmered there, sparkling in the torchlight.
The dragon behind them, finally in range, gave a great bellow, and inhaled for a mighty, incinerating gout of flame. As it did, the surface of the doorway rippled...and disappeared. Gandy clinging to Harry's shoulder with a hand, the three dove through the archway, just as the blast of flame shot over their backs. All three fell onto their faces.
Into a pile of treasure. Gold and rubies and precious items galore. Desperately searching for the artifact he needed, Harry's eyes fell on it as he sprawled forward onto the unyielding pile of treasure. The dragon howled in frustration as it thundered closer. Harry snatched at the dragon crested, silver helm with a ruby seated on the forehead, pulled it onto his head...and silence surrounded them.
Harry Potter was drifting in a place devoid of light and darkness. Somehow it reminded him of the Sorting Hat, a nothingness that explored his head as he explored it. Well… he thought he heard a dim echo whisper.
Nearby, close to himself in the utter nothingness, he could see a great, burning conflagration. Even closer, he could see two burning pinpricks. Hermione, Ron, he realized with fondness. The creature in his chest awoke, sniffing. He cast further away, feeling other pinpricks in the void. Fred and George Weasley in their Diagon Alley shop. The creature grumbled happily. Hagrid, down Knockturn Alley. The creature whimpered with happiness. Tonks, for some reason rushing towards him from the Ministry. Remus Lupin, sequestered at number twelve Grimmauld Place with Mad-Eye Moody. The creature growled happily, sniffing the air. Farther and farther Harry quested, until he came across a place known in another world as Ottery St. Catchpole.
A small one. Molly Weasley. Then Arthur. The creature in Harry’s chest whined in happiness”and anticipation. Another, this a brilliant spark.
Contact. Ginny Weasley. Harry could feel her warmth as though she were next to him, feel her still fiercely burning love for him.
The creature in his chest roared in joy and victory, coming to it’s feet, to full strength and awareness, burst free of it’s bonds…and wrapped about the still conflagration next to Harry, swallowing it whole, wrapping it’s own brilliant red glare about it.
Harry pulled off the dragon helm and looked about. Hermione was staring intently at him, Ron was gaping, wide eyed, at the dragon squatting at the arched doorway”which seemed to be purring deeply.
“Harry, mate, you have got to bottle that.”
Suddenly Harry became aware, sitting in the middle of Godric Gryffindor’s vault, in the midst of his treasure, that he had an audience. All around the dragon were clustered a sea of grim, surly-faced goblins, a group far larger than that they had defeated to gain entrance to Gringott’s tunnels. As he reflexively reached for his wand, however, the visage of one ugly snouted creature that Harry thought he recognized as Griphook suddenly creased in a grimace of a smile”and one by one the group turned and quickly dissipated.
Harry was stunned to see Bill Weasley walking to the vault door
“Congratulations, Harry, little bro.” Bill ruffled Ron’s singed red hair fondly.
“Er, what was that all about?” Harry croaked, his throat dry from the smoke and flame.
“You got in, so you were the rightful owner of the vault,” Bill said simply. “And they were hoping you would.”
“Man, Harry, you are set for life.” Ron added enviously. After a last, sidelong look at the dragon he was scanning the contents of the vault.
“No, we’re set for life,” Harry corrected as Ron and Hermione’s heads whipped towards him. “Like you said, I’d not have gotten here if it weren’t for you two. It’s ours, the three of us.”
Ron was agog.
“But Harry, did the helm really…work?” Hermione edged slightly away from the dragon, which was purring so loudly that a plume of smoke was drifting from both nostrils.
“Well, her name is Hawkwing.” Harry replied simply.
"Oh, and Harry?” Bill asked. "Ragnok requested that you never try this again.”
Some time later Harry, Ron and Hermione, astride Hawkwing, flew northward over the dementor-misted countryside. Ron and Harry, of course, who lived on brooms, were having the time of their lives. Hermione, always awkward off the ground, was terrified.
"Why couldn't we have just Apparated to Hogwarts?" she shrieked over the wind.
Harry leaned back, her bushy hair swirling about his face.
"Hermione--Hawkwing can't Apparate!"