Harry Potter and the Goblin Rebellion

Chapter 38 - Openings

The portkey took Harry and Hermione directly to the Hospital Wing.

Harry balanced on one foot as Hermione helped ease his robe off. Hermione called out, "Madam Pomfrey! It's Granger. I have Harry Potter with me. The Headmaster sent us by portkey. Harry's badly injured."

Madam Pomfrey sailed out from her office.

"Tell me something I didn't know, Granger. As soon as I heard that most of the school was dashing willy-nilly off to a battle, as if it were a Sunday picnic mind you, I knew that this one would be occupying a bed here." Madam Pomfrey only needed to have a quick look at Harry's now-quite-swollen left leg and bloody t-shirt to get an initial idea of the injuries. "Any injuries I can't see, Potter? No? Good. Lie down there. Get him some blood restorer and an extra large bottle of leeches, Granger. We're going to have to drain the swelling in his leg."

"Yes, Madam," said Hermione, retrieving the potion and a large jar of scrawny leeches from the cabinets. "Madam Pomfrey?"

"Give him a tablespoon of it," said Madam Pomfrey, as she started checking the dressings on Harry's hand and shoulder. "Good job here, Granger, under the conditions. Get me the scissors so we can cut these away and apply the proper potions to start these healing."

"Madam Pomfrey?" Hermione repeated.

"What is it, Granger? Haven't you got those scissors yet? Maybe Edgecombe can retrieve them. Where is she anyway? Tending to the injuries at the battle, I suppose. I'd like to have her back here."

"So would we, Madam. Marietta won't be coming back."

"What!? Of course she will. Classes are over, but she's still got to take her NEWTs. She'll need those to go on in healer training."

"No, Madam, she won't be coming back. She was the only student killed in the battle."

Madam Pomfrey turned to look intently at Hermione. "Granger, are you sure?"

"Yes, Madam. I checked carefully, twice. And Harry used legilemency to try to ..."

"No!" interrupted Madam Pomfrey, turning sharply to Harry. "Are you alright, Potter? I'm no legilemens, but I've heard that's awful. Very tough people have been left quite unbalanced from the experience."

Harry looked down, unsure of what to say. Hermione spoke for him.

"It was hard on him, Madam, especially since Harry had become quite fond of Marietta."

"As had I."

"I think he's coping with it, certainly better than I would."

Madam Pomfrey continued about her business of tending Harry's wounds then, but was very silent, except to give instructions. Harry noticed several times that her eyes were very moist.

Mrs. Weasley was there by noon and she and Hermione took turns feeding Harry, since his right shoulder and left hand were both healing and bandaged.

"Harry," teased Mrs. Weasley, "I know you enjoy a bit of pampering, but you needn't go to such extremes to get it."

Harry tried to laugh, but only could manage a half-hearted smile; he threw his arms around her, as well as he could, for a great hug.

"Yes, Harry," she said. "Hugs are always available."

Getting rest was not so easy, as Harry was visited by most of the DA, including all above second year, who generally wanted more to tell him about their participation in the battle than to hear about what happened with him. That was fine with Harry; he didn't care to relive his own part every few minutes.

When Ron visited, he complained about Harry losing them another Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, but he did so with a smirk.

Then Ron got serious, "Harry, I was wrong about Marietta."

"You mean that she had some backbone, after all."

"Well, that's true, but that's not what I meant. None of us could have known what kind of guts she'd prove to have. I'd be okay about making that mistake. I'm talking about never really giving her a break. We've all done foolish things, and have needed second chances. McGonagall should have sacked me from the team, or at least from being captain, but she set me tasks to help me get better. Whether Marietta proved to have courage or not, she showed a lot of character taking up again with the DA and not giving her a second chance was my failing. I'm sorry."

"That's big of you, Ron. There've been times when neither of us has been willing to apologize for things we've done. Maybe we're doing a little growing up. It's about time - for both of us. Now if you really want to make it up properly, you can stay here while I meet with the Edgecombes. They're due in half an hour."

Ron didn't particularly want to be in that meeting, but he knew that if he was going to accept leading others into a battle, he had to accept dealing with the aftermath as well. Harry couldn't give the details that Ron could, so as hard as it was for him, Ron stood his ground and answered every question he could. Hermione was there, too, and told what she knew.

"Mr. Potter," said Madam Edgecombe, "I can't tell you what it meant to us that you included Marietta in your group. She seemed very subdued when she came home last summer. We thought it was just the potions accident - she never would let us see under her mask. When she got your owl this summer and she said she had been invited to head a team of your group, she actually trembled with excitement. It was marvelous to see such enthusiasm. We had never thought of our Marietta as brave, but she seemed to take to this battle-training like nothing she had ever done before. I have started to see why. Madam Bones described finding you and Miss Granger beside Marietta at Gringotts, obviously heartbroken. And I see how painful it is for Mr. Weasley here to even explain the circumstances. Clearly, the leadership cares desperately for its members. That is excellent for an army: each member must know that he or she counts their fellow's safety as important as their own and be confident that their fellow feels the same. With that, each soldier knows she is a part of something greater than herself. We're heartbroken at losing her, of course, but glad that Marietta could experience that sense of belonging and purpose and proud of how she acted to protect her fellow students."

"That she did," said Harry, clenching his eyes, "She showed courage none of us knew she had."

After the Edgecombes had left, Ron put his head down, propping it up by his forehead in his hands. "That really sucked!" he said, with disgust, "Here I was the git who had to place people, and got their daughter in harm's way, and they were acting all sweet and even appreciative. I wish they had slapped me or yelled or something."

Hermione rubbed his shoulders, "Ron, you know you didn't ask her to go up there. Still, you faced them really well. If it means anything, Ron, I'm impressed."

Ron looked up at Hermione appreciatively.

Harry smiled. "I felt the same way when Cedric was killed. I hope you'll understand when I say 'Good! I'm glad you feel this way.' If we face another situation involving a great number of fighters, you're almost certainly who we'd ask to take command. It makes me feel better about training people that you aren't taking this like it's wizard chess or quidditch. You can't set the pieces back up and there are no referees. People get hurt, people die, holes get left in other people's lives: war sucks!"

Harry was kept until Tuesday morning. He dreaded the next DA meeting. Of course, the Battle of Gringotts' had to be discussed and it would be up to him to say something. When all had assembled, he addressed them:

"I hope it scarce needs to be said how proud I am of all of you this Sunday. When there were people needing help, and there was something we could do, you all stepped forward. It was brave and wonderful. Those who did not make it because of age have nothing to be ashamed of - I know you were willing. I know you are able. Unfortunately, you're probably going to have other chances to prove your mettle. I also want to praise all of you accepting Weasley and McMillan's efforts to organize you. If you all had acted independently, no doubt many of you would have been injured or worse. At the least, you probably would have ended up hexing each other. Instead, there was not even one student's spell which was applied other than where it should be. Let that be a lesson to you - we are all far more powerful working together than working separately."

"Tragically, we also lost one of our own. While we are saddened of course by the deaths of dozens of goblins, Marietta Edgecombe was one of us, our friend. She was a very effective team leader, who spared no effort to help her team members. It was in no small part due to her willingness to take the most dangerous assignment Sunday that you were able to get into safe positions and avoid injuries yourselves. Never forget the generous, courageous, selfless act of our good comrade. I think a minute of silence is in order."

"That brings me to another matter. Edgecombe's team needs a new leader, and next year we will need several new team leaders to take over for the seventh years who will not be able to return as Fred and George Weasley have been doing. I have spoken with other team leaders over the past couple of days, and we will be asking other students to accept roles as team leaders over the summer. However, for the class sessions today and Thursday, our last two for the school year, we would like to ask Ted Nott to take the responsibilities in Edgecombe's team. All that being said, and now that we have all seen a bit of what we're training for, let's get back to business."

Professor Dumbledore decided that the scarab should be used to open the site that weekend. Dobby (as he still preferred to be called), as the owner of the scarab, was to go, as was Harry. Harry also insisted on Hermione coming along, and Dumbledore agreed. She fretted initially about missing study time for her second week of exams, but couldn't decline when Harry said he needed her support. She perked up when she realized how educational an experience the trip would be, and at least it was not her NEWT year.

They were met by Bill Weasley and the glamdrings of the three hullabaloos which together owned the site. Harry was rather amused at the sight of the three goblins dressed as midget Bedouins, but it served their needs. They walked to the site underneath a large flying carpet, which protected them all from the harsh desert sun; the goblins stayed at the very center of the shade. The storm sand had already long been removed and the sides of the excavation thoroughly braced.

Harry thought the building looked like a small stone house, or even a chapel. It was simple and pure, devoid of ornamentation, except an inscription which Bill said translated roughly as "the path to what is of great value." Dumbledore pulled out the scarab from the box and showed it to them. It was carved out of a large piece of amber which had a honeybee trapped inside. The bee looked like it could fly away right then, if only the amber were cut open. Dumbledore placed the scarab in the indentation above the lintel. The door glowed the green of new grass - a potent symbol of life in a desert land - and then swung open. They walked inside.

It was clearly very much a chapel, thought Harry. There were benches set at angles facing the dais at the front. They would seat perhaps two dozen people at a time. Standing on the dais without visible support was a tall slender pole - it appeared to be a very tall shepherd's rod - holding a single large ruby, as large as a snitch. Behind the table was a simple bare wall. The entire house looked as crisp and unworn as if it had been newly carved, and was perfectly white and pristine, except for the shepherd's rod and the ruby.

"There doesn't seem to be anything here, Professor," said Harry, "is there some secret to getting whatever we're supposed to be here for?"

"Of course," said Dumbledore quietly. "The ancient Egyptians were sun-worshippers. See that little spot there in the ceiling above the ruby: it's a hole. Once we clear the sand out, the sunlight should illuminate the crystal, which will reveal the message, if any. That's why we came an hour before midday - we cannot be sure how long the sun will reveal the message."

Dumbledore gave a tap to the hole with his wand and, cupping his hands around his mouth, blew toward it - one puff, two puffs, three puffs. The third puff created a strong wind which swept through the hole, carrying all the sand out. Some light filtered down, but it was clearly not direct sunlight just yet. They closed the door and extinguished all their lights so they would be able to see. After a few minutes, a narrow shaft of sunlight shone through and struck the ruby, which began to glow, seemingly from within. Soon red letters began to appear on the far wall.

"English, Professor?" asked Hermione quietly.

"Enchanted - it displays its message in the language of anyone who views it."

As the letters grew more definite, Harry removed his glasses and wiped the smudges from them so he could see the words clearly when they were fully formed. He put them back on, and saw what was written so long ago:

TO ACHIEVE PEACE, PRACTICE FORGIVENESS AND GOODWILL

The goblins snorted in disgust. "All that gold spent, for nothing!" "No treasure here, not even a usable formula." "We can't even cut the ruby up since it's charmed." "What a waste!" They stretched out on the back benches to wait for their human companions to finish their examination of the message.

Bill nodded and said "Hmm."

Hermione looked puzzled, and whispered to Dumbledore "I expected a magical formula or incantation, Professor. It's a lovely idea, but what magical power is there?"

"It is not power in the sense of being able to transfigure objects or move things about - and most certainly not to hurt people. But it is a set of instructions, very difficult to follow fully, that leads to very deep magic."

"But we all already know this."

"Do we? Do we really know it? Everyone has heard it, or something very similar, Miss Granger. Far fewer espouse it, but how many of us actually live it, from within ourselves, relying on it as surely as we rely on the ground or the sun? None that I know of. We are all too busy in our petty concerns to see the things of great worth, both as common and profound as water. Why would such a worshipful place have been built, if people did not need to come to contemplate its meaning in the right frame of mind - to treat the instructions as more than mere platitudes? And why would it have been so well-protected, if not to try to ensure that those who find it do so with an intense hunger for wisdom? Look at Harry."

Harry had been standing like a statue ever since he had put his glasses back on. The only movement which betrayed that he was not petrified was a very rare blinking and the even rarer coursing of a tear down his cheeks. Hermione watched him in awe as he continued to gaze fervently at the message.

"He is receptive," whispered Dumbledore. "He has paid an enormous price to see these words, and peace is indeed what he most intensely desires. It will take him time to bring the message from his conscious mind to infuse the core of his being. If he succeeds, he will find a path to peace, which will give him power which can overcome any evil which might be found within any being. It is well that Voldemort did not get here first, not that he would have valued it, much less heeded it, but he would have destroyed it, like a large beast soiling a crystal-pure pool of water, rendering it unusable by those who come after."

"Professor, I know there was a prophecy about Harry, although I don't know just what it said - is this a part of it?"

"I'm not sure. I think it will guide and hasten Harry to what he needs to purify himself and unlock the power within, though he might also eventually have found it on his own."

"You speak of it filling his entire being, of living by these words, of purifying himself - it sounds like he is to become some sort of a ... a holy man."

"There are worse terms for a person whose character is molded to benevolence."

"Is he to treat everyone like that - even Voldemort and the Death Eaters!?"

Dumbledore closed his eyes and nodded, acknowledging both that it was true and that it was a monumental task to accomplish.

"But I thought Harry had to be a fighter: can Harry become like that and still be a fighter?"

"Do you think it incompatible for such a person to fight? Peace comes of strength, not of weakness. Would he not be practicing the greatest kindness to put a stop to Voldemort? Against great evil we do not show kindness or love by allowing ourselves to be slaughtered. Remember that a kind and gentle heart is not a sign of weakness but of an abiding strength."

"The problem for Harry has not been whether he can become powerful enough to oppose Voldemort, but whether he can maintain his soul in the process. Harry has for six years been coming to grips with the notion that he must face Voldemort. A very clever friend I had when I was a young man said 'Beware that, when fighting monsters, you yourself do not become a monster...for when you gaze long into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.' Not everything he said should be heeded, but this is apropos."

"I hate to admit not understanding that, Professor."

"Harry has to face Voldemort: there has never been another choice. Voldemort is the monster Harry faces and the abyss into which Harry must stare. In attempting to vanquish him, Harry can either become like Voldemort or the very antithesis. He has known instinctually from the time he came to Hogwarts that he must choose either path, and that he preferred the path Tom Riddle could not find. His soul is open presently, and I believe he is following his better nature on the way opposite of that taken by Voldemort."

"I feel like I'm about to lose my friend," Hermione sniffled slightly.

"Not at all, he needs you and all of us he loves desperately. That's what keeps drawing him back from all the hurts he has borne. Don't misunderstand - he is not otherworldly and unlikely to become so, though in many ways he may come to stand apart. But he has been set apart for some time already. Still he has not and will not ever lose his need and love for those around him. I cannot see Harry ever becoming a hermit - that path is mere avoidance, almost a form of spiritual suicide, disengaging from the world. I was concerned he might choose that way in response to the prophecy and the dangers he exposes his friends to. Among the things he has learned this year is that he cannot sequester himself, but must be fully engaged in life. You have all done a marvelous job sticking by him. Harry understands very well that to love people you must spend time with them. A poet once wisely said 'Time, oh give me time, for time is the lover's gift."

"Was that Browning, or Shakespeare?"

Dumbledore smiled and winked at her, "Boy George."

Hermione suppressed a giggle in that reverent place, and then glanced at Harry to make sure she had not disturbed him. She whispered to Dumbledore "That clown!?"

"He has had his problems, no doubt, but there's not such a surplus of wisdom in the world that I'll refuse it wherever I find it. To profess love without spending time is hollow. Circumstances may interfere, but generally you give time to what you love, and as much as Harry has been trying to limit his emotional pain, virtually all of his time has been spent with and on behalf of all of you - all of us. No, Harry couldn't stand to abandon those he loves, and he is all the better for it, though he bears pain that neither of us can imagine; yes, even myself, Miss Granger."

Hermione watched Harry for several more minutes and then whispered again to Dumbledore, "In talking with Harry about his visions of deaths, there is something I have noticed, Professor: he never seems to see his own."

"I have noticed that as well. He may not be sharing such visions, but I think rather that he does not dread his own death the way he fears it for others. He certainly has not shrunk from danger. It is his love for others, for us all, which has kept him with us, that he might protect us all from what would happen if he failed."

It was more than an hour and a half before the shifting of the sun caused the message to disappear. Harry did not appear to move a muscle in that whole time except to blink. When it finally faded, he turned to Dobby, Bill, Hermione and Dumbledore, "We can go now."

Chapter 39 - Returning

Bill accompanied Dumbledore, Harry, Hermione and Dobby back from Egypt. He was allowed to resume his leave of absence since the work that had brought him there was finished. They all stopped in at Diagon Alley, taking the Floo Network to Weasley Wizard Wheezes. After a visit with the twins, Bill went to visit Fleur while the others went to Gringotts. Although the bank would be closed, as it was Sunday, there was great activity around it. Reconstruction was proceeding apace. The wizard businesses in the area which had anything that could be shared, even so much as a bit of extra space where operations could be continued or supplies stored, were lending it. Much had already been done, but more remained.

The welcome they received from the goblins could not have been warmer. It was truly ungoblinlike, which the goblins acknowledged, but the way to get past a goblin's reserve and stern demeanor is to help defend his or her home. The welcome was especially enthusiastic for Dobby, whose picture had been posted on one of the remaining intact walls of Gringotts' lobby, identified as a brother goblin and valiant defender of the home. They had devised the term 'sungoblin' to designate those like Dobby, should there be any more. Dumbledore approved enthusiastically, noting that having a word for something suggests recognition and even acceptance of its existence.

What Dobby really was interested in at Gringotts, though, was not the healing of the building, but the healing of Melony. Grishnack escorted all of them to his hullabaloo's clinic. Melony was sitting up and had even been allowed to do some walking about. She gushed over Dobby and Harry when she saw them. Such behavior made Grishnack grumble that she must be part sungoblin herself.

Melony smiled at him, "I've learned from these friends of mine, Grishnack, that hard work and fun are not opposites; they go together very nicely."

"Flibbertigibbet!" accused Grishnack, "Then you'll probably like what Gargamel is here to say. Go ahead, son."

Dobby looked imploringly at Harry for help, but Harry just smiled and said "You're on your own on this, Dobby."

Dobby took her hand. "Melony, I don't know how the goblins does this. And I has no parents to negotiate terms like my ex-master did. So I has to just say what's on my mind. I thought I was a happy fellow when Harry Potter got me my freedom, but that was a pale shadow of happiness compared to what I felt when I woke up nine months ago looking into your eyes and feeling your hands holding mine. Getting clobbered in the head was worth it to find you. And every time I have been with you, I has felt better and stronger and freer. I want to feel like that every day. I need you for my hullabaloo - will you marry me?"

Hermione completely broke down, and put her head on Harry's shoulder; he put his arm around her.

"Dobby, you're the sweetest goblin I have ever known - I guess it wouldn't take much to claim that title, would it? - but I have to know that we have a home to go to and a means of support. I won't be part of a wandering hullabaloo if I can help it."

Dumbledore then spoke up. "In fact, I can help with both parts of that. Clearly wizards need to know more about goblins and elves than we do. I can think of no two better suited to teach us about both goblins and elves than you two. I would like to call it the Special Program for Elf/goblin Wisdom," then he turned to Hermione, "if I may appropriate the acronym."

She giggled when she pieced it together and said "Of course."

"I would also like to see a sharing of techniques between goblin healers and wizard healers - there is much that both could learn from each other. As for a home, we would hate to lose Dobby, ah, Gargamel: Hogwarts Castle has ample space to set aside suitable living quarters, in, say, the dungeons?"

"Well, if we are negotiating, sir," said Melony, "then I think we need to insist on being a bit higher up - my wonderful sungoblin should have a window. And I think we will raise our goblets as sungoblins, too."

Dobby gasped, "Then you will?"

"Of course, Dobby, I want to marry you and have you for my glamdring; I have ever since I learned you are really a goblin."

Dobby jumped and cartwheeled and squeaked and cavorted and capered about quite unrestrainedly. The rest laughed at his antics, but Grishnack covered his eyes, shook his head and groaned.

"Miss," said Melony to Hermione, "could I ask a rather large favor of you?"

"Certainly, Melony."

"Could you knit me another jumper for the wedding? The one you made me was cut by the knife when I was stabbed, and it has raveled. Dobby so loves the things you knit. I've never seen him wearing less than ten of your garments, so I'd like to wear at least one."

Hermione grinned, "Of course, I'd be thrilled. Would you like the same color?"

"If you don't mind, since we're being so ungoblinlike, could it be in all the colors Dobby likes?"

"Well, that covers a broad range - a rainbow jumper it is."

"Well, Hermione," said Harry, "maybe this is your career - couturier to the sungoblins."

Grishnack invited them to stay for dinner, but Hermione was a bit concerned "Um, you're not serving anything you got from the Weasley twins, are you?"

"Oh, no, Miss, not since the battle."

"Well, I guess it would be alright then," she said.

"And how would you like your graphorn steak cooked?" asked Grishnack, then continuing as he saw her discomfort, "Well, what should we do with it!? We had several thousand pounds of fresh meat right at our doors. Waste not, want not."

Harry actually enjoyed getting back to the relative routine of exams. He was still grieving for Marietta when the year end feast arrived, but he was far better able to cope than he had been the year before. Points were awarded for all who participated in the Battle of Gringotts, with an extra hundred for Harry and two hundred for Marietta. A minute of silence followed by a toast was observed for her. Those points along with the quidditch cup gave Ravenclaw the House Cup. Although Harry had enjoyed the several years of Gryffindor colors around the Hall, he thought it was quite nice to have some fresh colors.

The Hogwarts Express was almost like a holiday party train. Even amongst Slytherins, there were very few holdouts from the generally good cheer and camaraderie. Malfoy kept to the Prefects car, perfectly aware that there was no opportunity for mischief. Harry was surprised when Crabbe and Goyle came to meet specifically with him. They thanked him for being so sporting about not letting them fall during the quidditch game, especially after they had fouled Ron so badly. Harry said they were welcome, and that they were also still welcome to join the DA. They said they thought they would, especially since Malfoys' Cobras Dueling Club had dwindled to a very sparse handful.

At the station, Harry said his goodbyes and then walked out to where the Dursleys were waiting. They had a banner to meet the train, but the banner said "Welcome home, Dobby." Harry hated to explain to them that Dobby was not likely to be coming around this summer. The Dursleys were obviously put out on hearing that.

"Alright, then, Potter, get in the car. Don't scratch the paint with the birdcage."

"We aren't going back to how things were two years ago, are we?"

"Hrmf. No, I suppose not. We just got kind of attached to the little guy."

Harry had to agree, "Yeah he is quite a special character. I'll miss having him around, too. But he has a family now."