13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN:

Harry jumped when a loud pop sounded behind him; spinning around, he saw Dobby holding future Harry's hand. The man didn't even seem to notice him, however – his eyes were fixed on Professor Snape, and while his face was impassive the eyes burned with emotions more intense than Harry had ever seen in one man's face.

"I need to speak with Severus," the man said intently, and recognizing the dismissal for what it was Harry scrambled to gather his books.

"Thank you for the lesson, Professor," he stopped to say before exiting hurriedly. He knew when he was unwanted, and his presence was most definitely unwanted now.

"Did you know?" Harry demanded as soon as the door had closed behind his younger self. Raising powerful privacy wards with a few flicks of his wrist, he advanced on the older wizard. Dobby knew to leave then.

"Know what, Potter?" Severus asked curtly, immediately on the defensive as he rose.

"That I'm a Horcrux," Harry snarled. Several jars burst with the force of his anger, and Severus paled.

"That's possible?" the Potions Master asked weakly, looking like he was about to vomit. That more than anything convinced Harry that he didn't know, though he couldn't help but wonder whether Severus in the future had known. He would have told me, Harry insisted, but his anger didn't abate.

"Fucking Dumbledore!" he roared, slamming his magic down in the center of the room, smashing the stones into tiny pieces. It's fortunate that we're in the dungeons, Harry noted with a small part of his brain. Sending his magic into the ground, he restored the floor to its previous state, then smashed it again, cursing Dumbledore's name, Voldemort's incompetence, and life in general as he alternatively smashed and restored the floor. Eventually he felt that he had expressed his anger enough to let it go, and restored the floor one last time before sinking into the chair Harry had vacated. "Fuck my life," he whispered, dropping his head into his hands.

"That was an interesting form of anger management," Severus stated, and Harry wondered whether anyone else would have noticed the faint edge to his voice. Harry simply laughed humorlessly in response.

"I have to die," he said simply.

"Why?"

Harry jerked his head up to snarl at Severus, "Because otherwise fucking Voldemort can't fucking die, that's why!"

Severus just held his angry gaze with level eyes, appearing perfectly calm as he said, "Even if there is no ritual to remove a Horcrux from a vessel without harming it – which I doubt – there is still the option of simply putting the Dark Lord into stasis until you die of natural causes."

Harry stared at the taller man in shock – then laughed, the tension draining from him suddenly. "God, I love you," he said earnestly, ignoring the other man's reaction. Standing, he leaned over and clasped the Potions Master's hand, noting absently that it was quite cold. "Sorry about the jars. I'm going to go speak to the goblins; Hermione looked through the entire Hogwarts library in the other timeline and most of the Black library as well, but we never asked any other races. I know how busy you are, but if you could find a spare minute to look into possibilities, I would be most grateful." With a smile Harry called Dobby and popped away, leaving a stunned Potions Master behind.

OoOoO

Dobby popped them directly into the entrance hall of Gringotts, and Harry saw that most of the tellers were empty. Walking up to one teller and ignoring the few other customers he greeted the goblin there.

"Good evening, Warrior." It was amazing, what all one could learn from books – or, well, from Hermione. "I have come to discuss a Dark item residing in the Lestrange vault."

The goblin gave him a piercing look. "Name?"

"Harry James Potter-Black," Harry said, pitching his voice low but speaking with the authority the name gave him. The goblin gave him another piercing look before waving to another goblin, never taking his eyes off the human.

"Take the customer to Scholar Krillak," he ordered curtly, and Harry laid his fist over his heart once in the goblin salute before following the second goblin. They went down several long marble hallways before the goblin stopped before a large door and pushed it open without knocking. At the goblin's sign Harry stepped inside, letting the door close behind him.

"Scholar Krillak?" he asked, placing his fist over his heart when the goblin looked up from his notes. "My name is Harry James Potter-Black."

"Welcome, Mister Potter-Black," the goblin replied, saluting him in turn. "How can I be of assistance?" Harry wondered whether all goblins learned that piercing look in school, or whether it was simply a trait of their race.

"There is a Horcrux in the Lestrange vault," he said without further ado – another thing Hermione had told him about goblins. Never dance around the topic, for they don't appreciate small talk.

The goblin's eyebrows rose. "A Horcrux, indeed?"

Harry nodded. "The Cup of Hufflepuff," he supplied.

"And this is a care of yours how..?"

"The Horcrux is Voldemort's."

"Ah." Turning, the goblin barked out a phrase in the directing of the side door. "It will be checked momentarily. Is there anything else?"

"Yes; I was wondering whether you know of a way to remove a soul piece from a vessel without harming the vessel itself."

The goblin gave him that piercing look again, weighing his words before saying, "There is."

"Is it a service the goblins offer?" Harry refrained from adding that he would pay – of course a human would pay for anything the goblins did; no need to let them know how much he wanted this.

"It could be," the goblin temporized, and Harry realized that he couldn't get out of it after all.

"I am willing to pay a thousand galleons for such a service."

"No less than five thousand galleons would be acceptable for such a service," the goblin argued, and Harry heaved an inner sigh of relief. Five thousand was far less than he had expected; after all, he had that much in the trust vault alone.

"One thousand five hundred," he haggled anyway, knowing now that five thousand was their insultingly high offer. And so they haggled, settling on the amount of three thousand forty galleons just as the side door opened and a goblin entered with a canvas bag. The two goblins traded a few words before the second goblin placed the bag on the scholar's desk and left.

Opening the bag to reveal Hufflepuff's Cup, the goblin said, "We can of course not simply give you an item from another's vault," and another round of bargaining began.

OoOoO

"Excellent," Harry said, signing the check that authorized the removal of several thousand galleons from his vault. Setting the quill aside, he leaned back in his chair. "Now, about the ritual to remove a soul piece from a vessel – could you summarize the procedure for me?" A few minutes later he nodded, posing one more question. "Would it be safe for a human to undertake?"

The goblin shot him a sharp look, and Harry elaborated. "No, I don't mean for a human to lead the ritual – I mean for a human as the vessel containing a foreign soul piece."

Scholar Krillak's eyes darted to Harry's forehead, and the wizard nodded. "You understand my meaning."

"Yes, it would be possible," the goblin replied grudgingly, understanding now that he could have asked for a lot more than three thousand forty galleons. Unfortunately for him, it was already too late, for Harry had signed a check for both the cost of the cup and the ritual, letting the goblin think that the ritual was for the cup. Since he had already destroyed both Slytherin's and Ravenclaw's items, Harry felt it only fair to destroy Hufflepuff's as well, though he would have had the goblins cleanse all of the Founders' items had he known sooner. He had the money to pay for it, after all.

"Excellent. I would like to undertake the ritual at your earliest convenience," Harry said, making it clear with his tone that he expected to undergo the ritual as soon as possible. "If my counterpart still has the soul piece in him after I have undergone the ritual, then I will request your services again – for the same price, of course."

"Of course," the goblin said through gritted teeth. Goblins both respected and loathed a human who could haggle properly.

"That is all my business for today," Harry said, standing and saluting the goblin. "If I have not received notice within the week I will return on Sunday evening for the ritual. I may be indisposed on either Friday or Saturday evening. Good evening to you, Scholar Krillak."