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Quicksand	By : Constable-Kookie Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 4139 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Disclaimer:I do not make any profit from writing Harry Potter nor do I own Harry Potter

Chapter List
- 1-Quicksand
- 2-Chapter 2
- 1
- 2
I was escorted to Malfoy Manor by two burly looking aurors. I was constantly under supervision. I didn't have much choice in the ongoings occurring in my life. Hence, I didn't bother fighting Parkinson's decision regarding my imprisonment with Malfoy. It was better than living with Ron.
I was brought from my treacherous thoughts by the sound of a doorbell that echoed through the grounds. It had a sweet and melodic tone to it that made me think of the times before the war.
Thinking of ways to prank Ron with Fred and George
Mrs. Weasley constantly bickering with her oldest son regarding his long hair during dinner conversations at the Burrow.
Hermoine glaring at him and Ron whenever they attempted Trelawney's homework.
Ron and him predicting their deaths...
Mrs. Weasley wrapping her plump arms around his skinny frame.
A mother's touch.
Finding an older brother in Hagrid.
A knobbly house elf greeted us at the door and escorted us to Malfoy's office. On the way, I regarded the decor with the curiosity of a young child. The light colours blended together to create a hue of childish innocence that contradicted the darkness emanating from Malfoy's private workplace.
His office desk and leather chair was embedded in a sea of bookshelves that held books that were centuries old if the rusty covers and yellowing pages were anything to go by. The dim light and the brilliant fire added to the ominous glow oozing from the dark shadows lurking in the corners.
"Master Draco, Master Potter is here sir." The squeaky elf alerted Draco to the arrival of his guests. He looked up from the stack of papers that towered slightly over his hunched up figure.
"Thanks Winks. Could you bring Mr Potter and me some sandwiches and water after showing the other men out." Draco offered Harry the seat directly across from him.
Harry hesitantly took the offered seat and sent a minuscule smile towards the four body guards. They responded to the gesture with a nod before departing with Winks.
An awkward silence fell in the office after the departure of the arrival. Harry was glancing everywhere but his former nemesis while Draco regarded Harry with critical eyes. His brows furrowed and his mouth set in a grim line.
"Master Draco, Master Harry. I is bringing lunch sirs." Winks set the platter of sandwiches along with the jug of iced water and some glasses neatly on the circular table set beside Draco's desk.
Draco held out his hand to Harry. The gesture confused Harry and he sent a questioning glance to the Malfoy patriarch.
"You rejected my offer back in first year. I am hoping you are inclined to put our former animosity behind us and reconsider my offer."
Harry tentatively put his smaller hand in the bigger one. He was suddenly assaulted with the memory of a younger Malfoy demanding his friendship in a haughty manner. He smiled inwardly at the smaller Malfoy and his belief that the world revolved around him. One thing was certain, Malfoy had changed. But then again, so had he.
The door was suddenly opened and a furious eight year old entered. Harry was surprised. He looked like a younger version of Draco without the air off arrogance.
His petulant face stared stubbornly at his father. "Winks said I'm not allowed to play on my broomstick."
"Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, how much of a Gryffindor do you think I am. You are grounded and I will not be swayed by your childish antics this time."
"Uncle Blaise says you have lots of Gryffindor tendencies and that is why you got into so much trouble when you were young like me," Scorpius huffed at his father.
"You shouldn't listen to your uncle. He has a habit of exaggerating the truth."
"Nuh-uh. Uncle Blaise is much nicer than you. He would let me play with my broomstick even if I was grounded."
Draco rolled his eyes at his son's typical behaviour. "I'm not budging on this. Now go to your room or no dessert tonight."
Scorpius looked horrified at the prospect of having his dessert confiscated and scampered off to his room after giving Draco a kiss on the cheek and Harry a tentative smile. "Never really saw you as the family type. Thought you would marry Parkinson for sure," Harry said.
Draco shrugged.
"So who did you marry?" Harry questioned.
"Astoria Greengrass," Draco replied uncomfortably.
Harry concluded that Malfoy's unease stemmed from the question being far from impersonal. Harry felt sickly satisfied at Draco's unease. He had been rotting in a cell while everyone else had moved on with their life.
Ron and Hermoine were married and had three children.
Pansy was a successful Prime Minister
Luna and Neville were married and had triplets.
Mr and Mrs. Weasley were living happily in a retirement house together.
Seamus was a reserve player for the Chudley Cannons.
Fleur and Bill were married and had three children.
George's joke shop was flourishing.
Dean and Ginny were married and had four children.
"It was a marriage of convenience," Draco replied uneasily.
"So it wasn't love?" Harry questioned.
"We never loved each other."
Harry laughed humourlessly. He felt bitter.
"I wanted to ask you something," Draco clasped his slender fingers together and furrowed his brows in neutral confusion.
Harry looked at him blankly.
Draco broke eye contact. "Call for Winks and she will show you around or you can explore on your own. Just don't break anything."
Draco watched Harry take his leave. He had refrained from elaborating on his question due to the other's blank eyes.
Was it lonely...
DM HP DM HP
Draco watched Harry playing quidditch with his son. Despite having his freedom stolen from him for seventeen years, Harry was still as graceful on a broom as he had been the day Draco had stolen the remembrall from Longbottom. As loathed as he was to admit it, Harry still possessed the graceful ease, when flying, that was required of a seeker.
Draco summoned his house elf. "Winks, did Harry and Scorpius eat lunch?"
"Yes, Master Draco, Master Harry and Young Master is eating lunch. But...Master Draco sir, Master Harry is having an episode again," Winks replied in her shrill voice.
"Where was Scorpius when he had his episode?"

"I is not knowing sir. I think he is being in his room."
"Very well. You may leave."
Draco watched the duo for a while longer. A ghost of a smirk flitted across his aristocratic features. Potter would have made a great father. He could see it in the way Potter laughed when Scorpius would chuck the quaffle through the hoops. His eyes would twinkle and the dark shadows, visible in his eyes, that spoke of darkness and despair would momentarily fade. He could see it in the way Potter would correct his son's arm position when throwing a quaffle; the stiffness in his posture would melt. He could see it in the way Potter and Scorpius would race each other on their brooms. Potter would act carefree and childish.
It was times like these...
That Draco would witness his fiery rival from his past.
Draco knew it was futile to dwell on the past. But after observing the childish antics of the duo he couldn't help but remember all the dreams and desires he had left behind in Hogwarts. He had no choice but to leave them after he took the Dark Mark. At the time, he thought the sacrifice would be worth it. He would gain honour and prestige and perhaps his father would notice him beyond being the future heir of the Malfoy Family. The prospect of fame and money and acceptance had made him forget the innocent pleasure in achieving his dreams.
By the time he remembered all he had lost, it had been too late. He had to grow up. After all, you can't stay a child forever.
He had grown up.
He stopped at the portrait of his deceased wife. He lifted his finger and gently caressed her cheek on the canvas. The marriage had been one of convenience. They had never loved each other. He knew she wanted to be in one of those relationships portrayed in those fairy tales children enjoy reading. He wished that he could have fit the role of Prince Charming for her. She deserved it. After all, she had become a victim to cancer before her untimely death.
He had watched silently from the doorway as her state slowly weakened.
He had watched silently from the doorway as she reminisced the past.
He had watched silently from the doorway as she gave up her childhood dreams.
He had watched silently from the doorway as she grew up.
And all he could do was lament as she took her dying breath, her hands clasped in his and a small smile etched permanently on her delicate face.
She had grown up.
And left him feeling empty.
So lost in thoughts was he that he did not hear the figure creep up behind him.
"I want to go to Diagon Alley tomorrow and manage my finances," Harry demanded.
Draco turned to regard Harry with a thoughtful expression, his hand still resting gently on the cheek of his deceased wife. He noticed Harry's eyes lingering on his arm and hastily retreated his arm from the canvas. It might have been a trick of the light but for a second he had observed the smaller boy's eyes gain a triumphant look.
"That can be arranged," Draco replied.
"I want to ask you something," Draco said nervously.
Harry raised his eyebrows in expectation.
"I hope you have a wonderful time in Diagon Alley."
Draco watched Harry take his leave. He had refrained from elaborating on his question due to the other's blank eyes.
Were you sad...
DM. HP. DM. HP
Harry was treading the cobbled pathway that lead to Gringotts with great caution while constantly observing the faces of passerby's. This paranoia was brought upon years of reflection while abiding in Azkaban. He realized how foolish and trusting his younger self had been and had vowed to rectify that should he ever escape Azkaban.
He silently reflected on his newly found freedom as he tried to ignore the cold air nipping at his exposed face save for the owlish spectacles. Draco had offered to correct his vision through a potion. However, he had declined his offer due to the sentimental value behind the spectacles. These glasses were the first item he had ever owned that had not once belonged to his cousin.
When he had been afraid, in Azkaban, he had clutched the glasses tightly and reminded himself that no matter what happened he was innocent...he was still Harry. These spectacles embodied the innocence from his childhood and the dementors were not able to destroy that thought because it was not exactly a happy thought.
Harry realized with a start that he was standing in front of the golden doors leading to Gringotts. A tirade of memories assaulted him and his heart clenched tightly at all he had lost. He still remembered walking through these doors with Hagrid. It was here he realized he was richer than the Dursleys and when he truly realized he was a wizard. Hagrid had told he was a wizard in that cave but he had been anxiously waiting for the Dursleys to announce this to be some elaborate prank.
Harry walked through the doors. No matter how many times he walked through the doors, he would always be amazed at the vast grandness of the main hall with all it's tiny goblins working in a systematic fashion that left little space for error. He noticed a goblin staring at him and quickly averted his eyes. He squared his shoulders and walked through the hall as if he owned this place. After all, it wouldn't do to appear finicky amongst people who could easily use him for their own personal gain. Harry walked into the bathroom after glancing around to make sure he wasn't being followed. He checked under the stalls to make sure that no one was occupying a stall before locking himself in a vacant stall cramped in the corner.
Harry grasped his wand and muttered a spell that sounded suspiciously like ancient Gaelic. He suddenly experienced a cold draft of air breeze through his stomach Before traveling to the tips of his toes and fingertips, causing goosebumps. Harry shivered, he would never get used to uttering this spell.
"Harry Potter, we meet again. I knew you were too curious." Standing before Harry was the ghost of Voldermort.
Harry grit his teeth before calmly replying, "I'm on a quest to find the truth, Tom."
Voldrmort glared at Harry, "Do not worry, Harry Potter, I will get my revenge. You will be wishing for death after I'm through with you."
"There is a secret chamber hidden in the very depths of Gringotts. It was created by the goblins during the Goblin Revolution as a means to preserve Goblin history. For centuries Goblins have meddled with magic, through the use of a wand, without the knowledge of wizards. Dumbledore found the place when he was uncovering my past in order to discover the secret behind my immortality."
Harry nodded his head, "How do we get there?"
"The carts will lead there automatically. However to open the doors unauthorized, you will need to offer a sacrifice in the form of a creature or a human," Voldermort smirked mockingly at Harry. "Now the question is can you, the Golden Boy, murder an innocent being in your quest for the truth?"
"I'll cross that road when I get there. I suppose I'll meet you at the chambers."
Harry got on a cart with a goblin he had never met before. Tom has told him that to murder someone it was best to not know anything about said person or, in this case, creature. Harry swallowed the lump growing in his throat before quickly averting his eyes from the steely ones of the goblin before him.
The journey was just as breathtaking as the first time Harry had sat on the carts. However, this time he couldn't enjoy the ride. He was watching the goblin before him.
Did he have a family to go home to?
Maybe he had a sick mother that he was anxious to return to.
Perhaps his wife would be cooking a meal for his return while his children anxiously awaited their Daddy's return.
Harry closed his eyes. He took in deep breaths. Was the truth really worth the slaughter of an innocent being?
Harry was assaulted with images of his capture. He could distantly hear a woman pleading as a man screamed profanities to the night. Then all he remembered was pain. The pain had been so great he thought someone was wrenching his fingernails off his nail beds with a pair of pliers. Then he remembered the despair. Oh he remembered that well. His hands trembled and the anger coursing through his veins provided him the strength for what he was going to do next. He opened his eyes.
"Avada Kedavra," the goblin didn't even have time to react as the spell tore through his chest.
Why should that thing get to be happy while I hurt.
Why should that thing get a family while I've never had one to begin with.
Harry stared at the goblin for a second before looking away. He swallowed the urge to vomit. The lump in his throat was growing but he was too parched to swallow. He closed his eyes and worked on quelling his erratic heartbeat and the hollow feeling beginning to arise.
Sorry for the really long delay. After this chapter there will probably be one or two more chapters.
Thank you to all those people who reviewed, favourited, or followed this story. It means a lot to me.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Chapter 2
I was escorted to Malfoy Manor by two burly looking aurors. I was constantly under supervision. I didn't have much choice in the ongoings occurring in my life. Hence, I didn't bother fighting Parkinson's decision regarding my imprisonment with Malfoy. It was better than living with Ron.
I was brought from my treacherous thoughts by the sound of a doorbell that echoed through the grounds. It had a sweet and melodic tone to it that made me think of the times before the war.
Thinking of ways to prank Ron with Fred and George
Mrs. Weasley constantly bickering with her oldest son regarding his long hair during dinner conversations at the Burrow.
Hermoine glaring at him and Ron whenever they attempted Trelawney's homework.
Ron and him predicting their deaths...
Mrs. Weasley wrapping her plump arms around his skinny frame.
A mother's touch.
Finding an older brother in Hagrid.
A knobbly house elf greeted us at the door and escorted us to Malfoy's office. On the way, I regarded the decor with the curiosity of a young child. The light colours blended together to create a hue of childish innocence that contradicted the darkness emanating from Malfoy's private workplace.
His office desk and leather chair was embedded in a sea of bookshelves that held books that were centuries old if the rusty covers and yellowing pages were anything to go by. The dim light and the brilliant fire added to the ominous glow oozing from the dark shadows lurking in the corners.
"Master Draco, Master Potter is here sir." The squeaky elf alerted Draco to the arrival of his guests. He looked up from the stack of papers that towered slightly over his hunched up figure.
"Thanks Winks. Could you bring Mr Potter and me some sandwiches and water after showing the other men out." Draco offered Harry the seat directly across from him.
Harry hesitantly took the offered seat and sent a minuscule smile towards the four body guards. They responded to the gesture with a nod before departing with Winks.
An awkward silence fell in the office after the departure of the arrival. Harry was glancing everywhere but his former nemesis while Draco regarded Harry with critical eyes. His brows furrowed and his mouth set in a grim line.
"Master Draco, Master Harry. I is bringing lunch sirs." Winks set the platter of sandwiches along with the jug of iced water and some glasses neatly on the circular table set beside Draco's desk.
Draco held out his hand to Harry. The gesture confused Harry and he sent a questioning glance to the Malfoy patriarch.
"You rejected my offer back in first year. I am hoping you are inclined to put our former animosity behind us and reconsider my offer."
Harry tentatively put his smaller hand in the bigger one. He was suddenly assaulted with the memory of a younger Malfoy demanding his friendship in a haughty manner. He smiled inwardly at the smaller Malfoy and his belief that the world revolved around him. One thing was certain, Malfoy had changed. But then again, so had he.
The door was suddenly opened and a furious eight year old entered. Harry was surprised. He looked like a younger version of Draco without the air off arrogance.
His petulant face stared stubbornly at his father. "Winks said I'm not allowed to play on my broomstick."
"Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, how much of a Gryffindor do you think I am. You are grounded and I will not be swayed by your childish antics this time."
"Uncle Blaise says you have lots of Gryffindor tendencies and that is why you got into so much trouble when you were young like me," Scorpius huffed at his father.
"You shouldn't listen to your uncle. He has a habit of exaggerating the truth."
"Nuh-uh. Uncle Blaise is much nicer than you. He would let me play with my broomstick even if I was grounded."
Draco rolled his eyes at his son's typical behaviour. "I'm not budging on this. Now go to your room or no dessert tonight."
Scorpius looked horrified at the prospect of having his dessert confiscated and scampered off to his room after giving Draco a kiss on the cheek and Harry a tentative smile. "Never really saw you as the family type. Thought you would marry Parkinson for sure," Harry said.
Draco shrugged.
"So who did you marry?" Harry questioned.
"Astoria Greengrass," Draco replied uncomfortably.
Harry concluded that Malfoy's unease stemmed from the question being far from impersonal. Harry felt sickly satisfied at Draco's unease. He had been rotting in a cell while everyone else had moved on with their life.
Ron and Hermoine were married and had three children.
Pansy was a successful Prime Minister
Luna and Neville were married and had triplets.
Mr and Mrs. Weasley were living happily in a retirement house together.
Seamus was a reserve player for the Chudley Cannons.
Fleur and Bill were married and had three children.
George's joke shop was flourishing.
Dean and Ginny were married and had four children.
"It was a marriage of convenience," Draco replied uneasily.
"So it wasn't love?" Harry questioned.
"We never loved each other."
Harry laughed humourlessly. He felt bitter.
"I wanted to ask you something," Draco clasped his slender fingers together and furrowed his brows in neutral confusion.
Harry looked at him blankly.
Draco broke eye contact. "Call for Winks and she will show you around or you can explore on your own. Just don't break anything."
Draco watched Harry take his leave. He had refrained from elaborating on his question due to the other's blank eyes.
Was it lonely...
DM HP DM HP
Draco watched Harry playing quidditch with his son. Despite having his freedom stolen from him for seventeen years, Harry was still as graceful on a broom as he had been the day Draco had stolen the remembrall from Longbottom. As loathed as he was to admit it, Harry still possessed the graceful ease, when flying, that was required of a seeker.
Draco summoned his house elf. "Winks, did Harry and Scorpius eat lunch?"
"Yes, Master Draco, Master Harry and Young Master is eating lunch. But...Master Draco sir, Master Harry is having an episode again," Winks replied in her shrill voice.
"Where was Scorpius when he had his episode?"

"I is not knowing sir. I think he is being in his room."
"Very well. You may leave."
Draco watched the duo for a while longer. A ghost of a smirk flitted across his aristocratic features. Potter would have made a great father. He could see it in the way Potter laughed when Scorpius would chuck the quaffle through the hoops. His eyes would twinkle and the dark shadows, visible in his eyes, that spoke of darkness and despair would momentarily fade. He could see it in the way Potter would correct his son's arm position when throwing a quaffle; the stiffness in his posture would melt. He could see it in the way Potter and Scorpius would race each other on their brooms. Potter would act carefree and childish.
It was times like these...
That Draco would witness his fiery rival from his past.
Draco knew it was futile to dwell on the past. But after observing the childish antics of the duo he couldn't help but remember all the dreams and desires he had left behind in Hogwarts. He had no choice but to leave them after he took the Dark Mark. At the time, he thought the sacrifice would be worth it. He would gain honour and prestige and perhaps his father would notice him beyond being the future heir of the Malfoy Family. The prospect of fame and money and acceptance had made him forget the innocent pleasure in achieving his dreams.
By the time he remembered all he had lost, it had been too late. He had to grow up. After all, you can't stay a child forever.
He had grown up.
He stopped at the portrait of his deceased wife. He lifted his finger and gently caressed her cheek on the canvas. The marriage had been one of convenience. They had never loved each other. He knew she wanted to be in one of those relationships portrayed in those fairy tales children enjoy reading. He wished that he could have fit the role of Prince Charming for her. She deserved it. After all, she had become a victim to cancer before her untimely death.
He had watched silently from the doorway as her state slowly weakened.
He had watched silently from the doorway as she reminisced the past.
He had watched silently from the doorway as she gave up her childhood dreams.
He had watched silently from the doorway as she grew up.
And all he could do was lament as she took her dying breath, her hands clasped in his and a small smile etched permanently on her delicate face.
She had grown up.
And left him feeling empty.
So lost in thoughts was he that he did not hear the figure creep up behind him.
"I want to go to Diagon Alley tomorrow and manage my finances," Harry demanded.
Draco turned to regard Harry with a thoughtful expression, his hand still resting gently on the cheek of his deceased wife. He noticed Harry's eyes lingering on his arm and hastily retreated his arm from the canvas. It might have been a trick of the light but for a second he had observed the smaller boy's eyes gain a triumphant look.
"That can be arranged," Draco replied.
"I want to ask you something," Draco said nervously.
Harry raised his eyebrows in expectation.
"I hope you have a wonderful time in Diagon Alley."
Draco watched Harry take his leave. He had refrained from elaborating on his question due to the other's blank eyes.
Were you sad...
DM. HP. DM. HP
Harry was treading the cobbled pathway that lead to Gringotts with great caution while constantly observing the faces of passerby's. This paranoia was brought upon years of reflection while abiding in Azkaban. He realized how foolish and trusting his younger self had been and had vowed to rectify that should he ever escape Azkaban.
He silently reflected on his newly found freedom as he tried to ignore the cold air nipping at his exposed face save for the owlish spectacles. Draco had offered to correct his vision through a potion. However, he had declined his offer due to the sentimental value behind the spectacles. These glasses were the first item he had ever owned that had not once belonged to his cousin.
When he had been afraid, in Azkaban, he had clutched the glasses tightly and reminded himself that no matter what happened he was innocent...he was still Harry. These spectacles embodied the innocence from his childhood and the dementors were not able to destroy that thought because it was not exactly a happy thought.
Harry realized with a start that he was standing in front of the golden doors leading to Gringotts. A tirade of memories assaulted him and his heart clenched tightly at all he had lost. He still remembered walking through these doors with Hagrid. It was here he realized he was richer than the Dursleys and when he truly realized he was a wizard. Hagrid had told he was a wizard in that cave but he had been anxiously waiting for the Dursleys to announce this to be some elaborate prank.
Harry walked through the doors. No matter how many times he walked through the doors, he would always be amazed at the vast grandness of the main hall with all it's tiny goblins working in a systematic fashion that left little space for error. He noticed a goblin staring at him and quickly averted his eyes. He squared his shoulders and walked through the hall as if he owned this place. After all, it wouldn't do to appear finicky amongst people who could easily use him for their own personal gain. Harry walked into the bathroom after glancing around to make sure he wasn't being followed. He checked under the stalls to make sure that no one was occupying a stall before locking himself in a vacant stall cramped in the corner.
Harry grasped his wand and muttered a spell that sounded suspiciously like ancient Gaelic. He suddenly experienced a cold draft of air breeze through his stomach Before traveling to the tips of his toes and fingertips, causing goosebumps. Harry shivered, he would never get used to uttering this spell.
"Harry Potter, we meet again. I knew you were too curious." Standing before Harry was the ghost of Voldermort.
Harry grit his teeth before calmly replying, "I'm on a quest to find the truth, Tom."
Voldrmort glared at Harry, "Do not worry, Harry Potter, I will get my revenge. You will be wishing for death after I'm through with you."
"There is a secret chamber hidden in the very depths of Gringotts. It was created by the goblins during the Goblin Revolution as a means to preserve Goblin history. For centuries Goblins have meddled with magic, through the use of a wand, without the knowledge of wizards. Dumbledore found the place when he was uncovering my past in order to discover the secret behind my immortality."
Harry nodded his head, "How do we get there?"
"The carts will lead there automatically. However to open the doors unauthorized, you will need to offer a sacrifice in the form of a creature or a human," Voldermort smirked mockingly at Harry. "Now the question is can you, the Golden Boy, murder an innocent being in your quest for the truth?"
"I'll cross that road when I get there. I suppose I'll meet you at the chambers."
Harry got on a cart with a goblin he had never met before. Tom has told him that to murder someone it was best to not know anything about said person or, in this case, creature. Harry swallowed the lump growing in his throat before quickly averting his eyes from the steely ones of the goblin before him.
The journey was just as breathtaking as the first time Harry had sat on the carts. However, this time he couldn't enjoy the ride. He was watching the goblin before him.
Did he have a family to go home to?
Maybe he had a sick mother that he was anxious to return to.
Perhaps his wife would be cooking a meal for his return while his children anxiously awaited their Daddy's return.
Harry closed his eyes. He took in deep breaths. Was the truth really worth the slaughter of an innocent being?
Harry was assaulted with images of his capture. He could distantly hear a woman pleading as a man screamed profanities to the night. Then all he remembered was pain. The pain had been so great he thought someone was wrenching his fingernails off his nail beds with a pair of pliers. Then he remembered the despair. Oh he remembered that well. His hands trembled and the anger coursing through his veins provided him the strength for what he was going to do next. He opened his eyes.
"Avada Kedavra," the goblin didn't even have time to react as the spell tore through his chest.
Why should that thing get to be happy while I hurt.
Why should that thing get a family while I've never had one to begin with.
Harry stared at the goblin for a second before looking away. He swallowed the urge to vomit. The lump in his throat was growing but he was too parched to swallow. He closed his eyes and worked on quelling his erratic heartbeat and the hollow feeling beginning to arise.
Harry didn't even realize the cart coming to a gut wrenching stop. Voldermort was floating in front of the chambers. He smirked maliciously at the sight of the dead goblin and the pale and trembling Harry but be didn't say anything for which Harry was glad.
The chamber was damp and dark, illuminated only by the small candle that the goblin had brought with him for the ride. The golden doors of the entrance seemed to glow ominously in the soft glow of the candle.
Voldermort told Harry to deposit create a hole in the goblin's chest where his heart was and dip his hand in the blood. Harry did that with surprisingly empty eyes. He avoided looking in the goblin's dimmed eyes. He then proceeded to douse the golden handles with the blood by stroking them gently with his hands.
For a second nothing happened, but then a deep, reverberating sound echoed loudly throughout the chamber as the ground shook roughly. Harry felt a lurch behind his navel before feeling like he was travelling through an air-tight tube.
He wobbled dangerously while his feet remained on the ground after the nausea induced feelings had evaporated. Harry was startled by his surroundings. It seemed that the ground had transported them to some place of magnificent grandeur. Bookshelves were piled high with ancient looking books that seemed older than the earth. Jewel encrusted weaponry littered the walls while a Hogwarts suit of armour took a place on the high pedestal placed at the centre of the room. Harry was sure that all the weapons and armours were made by goblins due to the fact that they still retained their natural shine. The floor resembled a golden liquid, similar to molten lava, and the walls were painted mottled gold colour with hues of silver.
"Amazing isn't it?" Voldrmort asked. He had been observing Harry's reactions intently. "I believe Dumbledore and myself are two of the only humans to have set foot upon these floors. And now you can add yourself to the equation. I had to imperio a goblin to discover this place. They are vile creatures but even I admit they are cunning little beings with an incredible affinity to magic that even surpasses wizards."
"How are these books different from the ones in the Wizarding world?" Harry was still in awe.
"Goblins have always experimented with magic. Wizards consider goblins to be below them due to their ability to wield dark magic. However, despite what some of the text may say, many of the goblin wars were fought to discover the secrets behind their techniques. Wizards never did discover the secrets though they managed to oppress the goblins. Thus, the resentment goblins have for wizards and vice versa. These books contain all their techniques and secrets."
"So Dumbledore..." Harry trailed off not knowing how to ask his question.
"Yes, Potter. The reason those thugs threw you in Azkaban is because Dumbledore used black magic during the war to ensure the success of the Light with you being its vessel. The goblins found out the truth and sold the Weasleys out."
"Why them?"
"Because they made the most significant contribution to the potion. The elves may or may not know that you were the one who the potion was given to but they knew exactly what was put into the potion and who contributed to the making of said potion."
Veer off raised his hand and uttered something under his breath. A book came zooming into his hands. He opened the book and showed Harry the extract where the said potion was discussed.
The only known potion to deflect the Avada Kedavra curse is called the Darke Potente. This potion uses the residual magic of the sacrificed to protect the drinker at the expense of their peace in the grave. The residual magic curses a force field so powerful that it is able to repel the killing curse.
It is a known fact that the magical core is situated in the heart of all individuals. This potion requires the literal heart of the sacrificed. The more hearts, the more powerful the force field.
Harry felt sick at the thought. How many people had sacrificed themselves for him before he entered the forest. Fred. Remus. Tonks. Colin. And so much more. Hermoine could have used any one of those individuals' hearts in the concoctions she had provided him with when he had talked to her before he left for the forest.
Harry closed his eyes. His life had been paid by some sacrificial lambs who could no longer rest in peace. Harry did not know what that meant but preferred it that way.
"How do we get out," Harry cursed himself for the slight tremble in his voice.
"Slash yourself and add a drop of your blood to the floor," Voldemort replied, his tone revealing the sick amusement he felt at Harry's discomfort. The addition of blood to the floor caused a ripple to pass through the molten floor and causing a sheen of more solid colours to ripple momentarily as they were transported outside of the Gringott's building including the dead goblin.
Harry glanced at the dead goblin before remembering all those people who had died for him in the war. He started laughing maniacally and couldn't stop. Last minute stragglers were staring at him in open bewilderment and amusement. Suddenly Harry started sobbing. He put a hand over his mouth but couldn't prevent the sobs from escaping.
It was all his fault.
They were all dead.
It was his fault.
"Harry! Are you ok."
Harry looked up and was surprised to find Dudley staring back at him in shock and something akin to fear. He realized, in the back of his mind, that Voldermort had left. He wasn't surprised. When Harry was in Azkaban, Voldermort was always entering and leaving whenever he felt like it.
Harry didn't notice that Voldermort was watching him from the inside of a store. 'Don't worry Harry Potter, I will get my vengeance. I will be the winner.
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