MTL - 94 Diagon Alley-Chapter 222 Festival

Ile seemed taken aback, "I need them both here, I need to talk to them, it's important."

He heard the majesty in his voice. Everyone turned to look at him, puzzled.

Dobby couldn't tell who sent him to the dungeon for a while, but Harry knew what he saw, he just looked at the blue eyes on the chocolate frog picture, Then help came. At Hogwarts, those who ask for help always get it.

The scar was still stinging, and he knew that Voldemort thought of it too. Harry understood, but not yet. His intuition says so. Dumbledore smiled in Harry's mind, fingers clasped together as if in prayer, looking at him over his fingertips.

You gave Ron the Deluminator. You know him...you gave him a way back...

You know Malfoy too...you know he has a pure soul and is not a total villain...

If you know them...what do you know about me, Dumbledore?

Am I destined to know, not to seek? Do you know how hard I would find this? Is that why you made it so difficult? Give me time to understand?

Harry stood silently, feeling the scars throb with rage, and something flashed in his mind, like a glimpse of water, the outline of a building he knew so well.

Bill and Fleur stand at the foot of the stairs.

"I need to talk to Griphook and Ollivander," Harry said. "If Dobby wakes up, I'd like to see him too."

"No," Fleur said, "you'll have to wait, Harry. They're all sick and tired—"

"I'm sorry," said Harry calmly, "but I can't wait. I'm going to talk to them right away. Secretly—and separately. It's urgent."

"Harry, what happened?" Bill asked, "You came here with a house-elf and a half-conscious goblin, Hermione looks like she's been tortured, Lo Well, you won't tell me anything—"

"We can't tell anyone what we're doing," Harry said, "You're in the Order of the Phoenix, Bill, and you know Dumbledore has left us with a mission that doesn't allow us tell anyone."

Fleur made an impatient noise, but Bill didn't look at her, just stared at Harry, but the expression on his deeply scarred face was hard to read. Finally, Bill said, "Okay. Who do you want to talk to first?"

Harry hesitated. He knew what the decision would mean. There is not much time left, and a decision must be made now: Horcrux or Hallows?

"Griphook," said Harry, "I'll talk to Griphook first."

His heart was beating fast, as if he had been running wild and had just passed a huge obstacle.

"Then go up," Bill said, leading the way.

Harry grabbed a few stairs and stopped, looking behind him.

"I need you two too!" he called out to Ron and Hermione, who were sneaking out of the living room door.

The two walked to the bright place, seeming inexplicably relieved.

"How are you?" Harry asked Hermione. "You're amazing—she can make up a story when she hurts you like that—"

Hermione smiled weakly, and Ron put an arm around her.

"What are we going to do now, Harry?" Ron asked.

"You'll see. Come on up."

After a while, they came to a consensus without difficulty. Harry didn't get to the bottom of what made Griphook agree to their adventure of "sneaking into the Lestrange's vault". It was Harry who blocked the knife for the elf as a wizard? Hermione's speech about Muggle-born wizards, elves and goblins? Or is there any other condition for that clever goblin.

"Little rascal," Ron whispered, "to whet our appetites, and he's happy."

"Harry," whispered Hermione, pulling them away from the door and back in the middle of the still dark platform, "do you mean that? You mean Lestrange Are there Horcruxes in the family vault?"

"Yes," said Harry, "Bellatrix was horrified and hysterical at the thought that we had been there. Why? She thought we saw something? She thought we What else might have been taken? She was especially afraid that the You-Know-Who would find out that the thing was gone."

"But, I thought I was looking for the place where the mysterious man went or did something important," said Ron, looking a little confused, "he went into the Lestrange's. Vault?"

"I don't know if he was in Gringotts," said Harry. "He never deposited gold there when he was young because nobody left him anything. But he The first time I went to Diagon Alley, I probably saw that bank from outside."

Harry's scar was aching, but he ignored it. He hoped to get Ron and Hermione to understand Gringotts before talking to Ollivander.

"I think he might envy someone with the keys to the Gringotts vault, which he might consider a true sign of membership in the wizarding world. Don't forget, he trusts Bellatrix and Her husband. They were his most loyal servants before he fell, and they went out to find him after he disappeared. That's what he said the night he came back, and I heard it."

Harry rubbed the scar.

"I don't think he could have told Bellatrix that it was a Horcrux, though. He didn't tell Lucius Malfoy the truth about that diary. He probably told Bella Trix was a precious possession to keep in her vault. Hagrid told me it was the safest place in the world if you wanted to hide something...except Hogwarts. "

When Harry finished speaking, Ron shook his head. "You really know him."

"Know a little about him," said Harry, "a little...I just wish I knew Dumbledore that way. Just wait and see. Soon- Ollivander's turn ."

Ron and Hermione, looking confused and admiring, followed him across the small platform and knocked on the door of the room opposite Bill and Fleur. A faint "Come in!" answered them.

In the room was a pair of single beds, and the wand maker lay on the one away from the window. He had been in the dungeon for over a year, and Harry knew he had been tortured at least once. He was very haggard, the bones on his face were all protruding, and his skin was yellow. The big silver eyes were sunken in their sockets, making them even bigger. The hands on the blanket looked like skeletons. Harry sat on the empty bed next to Ron and Hermione. The rising sun is not visible here, and the room faces the cliff-top garden and freshly dug tomb.

"Sorry to disturb you, Mr. Ollivander," said Harry.

"My dear boy," Ollivander's voice was weak, "you rescued us. I thought we were going to die there. How can I thank you...thank you...not enough what."

"We're happy to help you," said Harry.

Harry's scar was aching. He knew, he could be sure, that it was almost too late to get ahead of Voldemort, too late to stop him. He felt a panic... but he decided to talk to Griphook first. Pretending to be calm, he pulled the broken wand from the leather pouch around his neck.

"Mr. Ollivander, I need some help."

"Anywhere, whatever," said the wand maker weakly.

"Can you fix this? Is it possible?"

Olivander stretched out a trembling hand, and Harry placed the two barely connected wands in his palm.

"Holly and phoenix feathers," Ollivander said tremblingly. "Eleven inches, beautiful and flexible."

"Yes," said Harry, "can you—?"

"No," Ollivander said softly, "I'm sorry, very sorry. The wand has suffered so much damage that there is nothing I can do to fix it."

Harry was prepared, but this was a huge blow to him. He retrieved the broken wand and put it back in the leather pouch around his neck. Ollivander stared at the place where the broken wand had disappeared, never looking away.

"It sounds familiar." Hermione said weakly and apologetically, while Ron looked at her strangely and managed to win a roll of eyes, "It's Gwen. Your wand. She said the exact same thing the time it broke."

Olivander's eyes immediately turned to the two of them, and asked expectantly, "Is she okay? My little granddaughter..."

"It's fine, as far as I know," said Ron. "She did us a little-big-hand at the Hog's Head a few weeks ago."

"I want to wait for you to recover, Bill will find a way to inform her." Hermione said alertly, "but probably in another house, after all, it is not safe to have the three of us in place. "Harry, what do you want to ask?"

Harry then took from his pocket two wands he had taken from Malfoy's house. "Can you identify it?" Harry asked.

The wand maker took the first wand, held it up to the dim old man's eyes, twirled it between his knuckled fingers, and bent gently.

"Walnut and dragon nerves," he said, "twelve and three-quarters, not easy to bend, this wand is Bellatrix Lestrange's ."

"Where's this one?"

Olivander did the same.

"Hawthorn and unicorn hair. Exactly ten inches, with good elasticity. This used to be Draco Malfoy's wand."

"It was?" Harry repeated, "isn't it now?"

"Probably not, if you take it—"

"—Yeah—" If it was taken directly from him.

"—then it could be yours. Of course, the way you grab it matters, and