The party celebrating Harry’s adoption was quite the event. It seemed as if half the Wizarding world was present, and reports of its splendor dominated the gossip pages of the Prophet for several days.

It was as if the other teachers had conspired to make up for every missed birthday and unsung achievement in both Harry's and Severus' lives with one glorious celebration, and Harry’s incandescent smile practically lit the room. It was nice to have a party thrown for him, but what made it really special – and allowed Harry to overcome his natural shyness – was that it was for his da as well. Commemorating the fact that neither of them would ever be alone again was, for him, the best possible reason to celebrate.

To his own surprise, Snape rather enjoyed the festivities, as most of the adult guests made a point of coming over to congratulate or praise him. This was so far outside his normal range of experience that he quite forgot to sneer disparagingly. And on the rare occasion when someone had the bad taste to express doubt or concern over his suitability, he was shocked to find an outraged Black or Lupin by his side, bristling with offense on his behalf. He even managed to tolerate Dumbledore’s nauseating smile – and the twinkling eyes that said “I told you so” – though that might have been due to the numerous congratulatory toasts. If he hadn’t known the old coot better, he would have sworn the aged wizard was smirking.

As much as he enjoyed the party, Harry was relieved that – when it was over – things at school went back to normal. Oh, the other kids expressed their appreciation that he had provided them with such a gala event, but to everyone at Hogwarts, Harry’s belonging to Snape was old news. The adoption didn’t seem to change anything between the two, so it made no difference to anyone else either. Harry happily slipped back into the relative anonymity that he craved and was soon once again caught up in the naughty plot to incite a prank war between the Ravens and the ‘Puffs.

Albus had taken the occasion of the adoption party to pull Bill Weasley aside and, as expected, the eldest Weasley was happy to help. Like the rest of his family, he had become very fond of Harry, and he had heard from his mother of Snape’s miraculously transforming the twins from annoying troublemakers to budding businessmen. As a result, he was eager to do what he could.

Two days after the party, he returned to the castle and listened closely to his former Headmaster and Head of House. McGonagall and Dumbledore provided him with a carefully edited version of events, and Bill agreed to think it over and return with his suggestions in a week’s time. To everyone’s astonishment, when he returned, it was with permission from the goblins to enter Bellatrix’s vault and, if a Dark artifact was present, to remove or destroy it. The faculty, gathered in the Headmaster’s office, gaped at him.

“How in Merlin’s name did you accomplish that, Mr Weasley?” Minerva asked in utter incredulity.

Bill grinned. “Well, I more or less pledged my brother.” At their astonished stares, he laughed outright. “Percy’s talked to me about his coming to work with the goblins when he finishes school, and so I made a bargain with the goblins at Gringotts. I explained that there’s a dangerous item in Bellatrix Black LeStrange’s vault that, frankly, they would be better off not having on their premises. The deal is that if they help us to remove the item, they’ll get another Weasley wizard working for them.”

“Surely it wasn’t that simple, Mr Weasley,” Snape said silkily. “The goblins did not acquire their reputation by being so accommodating.”

Bill cleared his throat, looking a little uncomfortable. “Not exactly,” he admitted reluctantly. “The deal is that if they let you into the vault and you don’t find your missing artifact, then Percy and I will work for them for the next 20 years… for free.”

Poppy gasped in horror. “You indentured your brother for 20 years!”

“Only if we don’t find something,” Bill said, forcing a smile. “So let’s all hope that you do. But Professor Snape is correct – the goblins play for keeps. I needed something big to make it worth their while, and that’s what they wanted. I guess when Percy came to visit me over the hols, they thought he had potential or something, but that’s what they demanded. It’s not as if you’re going to be able to gain access to the vault without their cooperation, so I did what I had to do. You said this could be the key to You-Know-Who’s defeat; I figured it was worth it.”

“Did you at least consult with your brother and parents?” Minerva demanded.

Bill shook his head, his features now completely serious. “You said the fewer people who know about this, the better, so I pledged my Wizard’s Oath to Gringotts. My folks will likely disown me if this doesn’t work out, but I’m pretty sure Percy will live up to the bargain I’ve made – even if he won’t be speaking to me.”

“Mr Weasley!” McGonagall’s expression was severe. “You have done an extremely foolish thing!”

“If you’re wrong about this and You-Know-Who is able to return, I think upsetting my family will be the least of any of our concerns, Professor,” Bill replied flatly. “I’ve seen a lot of Dark things over the past few years, and I have no illusions of what a risen Dark Lord will do.”

“Stop acting like an idealistic Gryffindor, Minerva,” Snape snapped. “Weasley’s right. It was a reasonable gamble.”

Flashing a grateful – if startled – smile at the Slytherin, Bill continued, “On a brighter note, if you do find something of You Know Who’s in the vault, then there’s no indenture, just a job offer for Percy after his graduation. The goblins agreed with me that under those circumstances, they’d be sufficiently grateful to us for helping prevent the rise of You Know Who that they’d exact no price from us for the right to enter the vault.”

“So the goblins will only penalize you if a horcrux isn’t found in the vault? But I thought the goblins were neutral in wizarding affairs,” Flitwick objected. “Why should they care if their allowing us access makes it harder for You Know Who to return?”

“There’s ‘neutral’ and there’s ‘goblin-neutral’,” Bill explained. “Goblins may not care enough about our affairs to side with one group of wizards over another over most things, but they’re very aware that war is bad for bank business, and so they’re more than willing to give a little nudge here or there to protect their interests and to earn some gratitude from the winning side. It’s no secret that You Know Who hates other magical creatures, and the goblins aren’t naïve enough to think they’ll maintain their monopoly on British wizarding banking if he returns and installs his own regime.

“In this particular case, it wasn’t even that hard to make an argument to let us into the vault, since the owner is a convicted criminal who’s got no legal standing to object. What’s more, since all the living members of the LeStrange family are in Azkaban, the vault can technically be considered as the property of their next of kin. The LeStrange brothers have no close ties, but Bellatrix was, of course, a Black before her marriage.” He winked at Sirius. “In addition, the LeStrange and Black families are related through multiple other family connections, so to the goblins’ view, they are justified in notifying the current Head of the Noble and Ancient House of Black, rather than any of the incarcerated LeStranges, about the proposed entry. When they said that, I told them that we actually had the permission of the Head of the House of Black to proceed, and that sealed the deal by giving them complete deniability.

“Even if worst comes to worst and You Know Who does return to power and releases Bellatrix from Azkaban, and she complains about the entry, the goblins are still able to claim they were unable to oppose a request made jointly by the Head of the Wizengamot and the Head of the House of Black. That’s goblin-neutral. It’s not that complicated, actually: you just have to know how to phrase something so that they see it’s in their own best interest to help, then show them how you can make sure they can’t get into trouble for helping.”

“We owe you a very great debt, Mr Weasley,” Dumbledore said, patting the younger wizard’s shoulder. “I don’t know if we can ever repay you.”

Bill’s answering smile was a bit weak. “Just find what you’re looking for in the vault, Professor. I like being the goblins’ employee. I don’t think I’d like being their servant.”

“We will go at once. Perhaps you would accompany us, Sirius?” Dumbledore suggested. “If the goblins consider you the current owner of the vault, it might simplify matters.”

Sirius eagerly leapt to his feet. “Let’s go! I’ve always wanted to break into a Gringotts vault, though I admit it’s not as exciting with the goblins helping us do it.”

Minerva gave him a quelling look. “You will behave yourself, Mr Black.”

“Of course, Professor,” Sirius said politely, but behind her back he rolled his eyes at Lupin and Snape.

“I saw that, Mr Black,” the witch reproved without turning around, and Sirius jumped.

“Erm, sorry,” he said meekly, following Dumbledore and Bill through the floo.

A contingent of goblins met them at the door to the bank and escorted them to the LeStrange vault. The presence of armed goblin warriors managed to squelch even Sirius’ insouciance, and for once he had no difficulty playing the role of the somber Head of a pureblood House.

“Well?” the lead goblin gestured invitingly, and – a bit nervously – the wizards stepped inside the LeStrange vault.

“Shite!” Sirius gulped, looking around at all the gold, Dark objects, potions, armor, and other curios. “And I thought the Black vaults were cluttered!”

“You should see the Dumbledore vault,” the Headmaster murmured distractedly as he peered around the large cavern.

Sirius reached out a curious finger towards an evil-looking grimoire, but the head goblin snatched his hand. “Ah ah ah!” he scolded, showing his pointed fangs.

Sirius gulped and tucked his hands into his pockets.

“Ragnok,” Bill asked politely, “since we are here with the proxy owner, should we not lift the curses in the vault, at least temporarily?”

Ragnok eyed the wizards suspiciously. “Very well,” he finally agreed. “Go ahead.”

Bill ducked his head in a quick bow and promply did so. Sirius shuddered. “Thanks for warning me,” he hissed quietly.

Bill grinned at him. “I thought the dragon outside might have tipped you off to be on your guard.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “And I thought my family was paranoid. The LeStranges are certifiable.”

“If they weren’t before, they certainly are now,” Ragnok interjected, grinning evilly.

“Over here, gentlemen!” Dumbledore called, then nodded politely to Ragnok. “And goblins, of course.” He indicated a golden object, half-hidden behind some Dark creatures’ skins. Sirius tried hard not to look too closely. He had a strong suspicion that at least some of the items were werewolf pelts.

“I believe this is Helga Hufflepuff’s cup,” the elderly wizard said gravely. “May I touch it?”

Ragnok gestured his permission and Dumbledore picked it up. Almost immediately he frowned and drew his wand. The goblin warriors immediately drew their long knives, and the wizards froze. “With your consent?” Dumbledore asked Ragnok cautiously. “I will need to test the object to prove conclusively its Dark nature.”

Ragnok considered for a long moment, then nodded curtly, gesturing to his staff to sheathe their weapons.

To Bill’s eternal relief, Dumbledore quickly determined that the cup of Helga Hufflepuff stashed in the vault was indeed a horcrux. Ragnok shivered in disgust when it was shown to him and immediately agreed that the men had proven their need to enter the vault. “That is blasphemous and disgusting!” Ragnok snarled, spitting into a corner of the vault. “Typical Wizardly attempt to cheat! Your kind are always trying to cheat – us, each other, even Death!”

“But thanks to your help, this attempt will not succeed,” Dumbledore pointed out gently. “Would you like to witness its destruction?”

Ragnok paused and looked sadly at the pretty little cup. “Waste of good gold,” he muttered to himself. “No, give me your Wizard’s Oath that you’ll destroy the abomination and that will do.”

Dumbledore gravely swore the oath, and the wizards departed for Hogwarts, staying only long enough to bid Bill a grateful farewell.

And so the fourth horcrux was destroyed, and the faculty regrouped to celebrate the success. “You are doing so well,” Pomona congratulated Dumbledore and McGonagall.

“I’d feel better if we knew how many were out there.” Minerva remained grim-faced. “For all we know, there could be a dozen more. We’ve no idea what he might have used from Godric Gryffindor. Albus has already checked the sword, and it’s not a horcrux, but the only other item of Gryffindor’s that is known to have survived was a shield, and it hasn’t been seen in 300 years. And let’s not even talk about that dratted locket!”

“What locket?” Sirius asked, sipping his fire whiskey. He still felt a little rattled from his experiences at Gringotts.

“Oh, that’s right, you weren’t there,” Minerva recalled. “Albus, Remus and Sirius haven’t seen the locket. Perhaps they might have some ideas?” she suggested.

Albus nodded agreeably and accio’d the locket from its secure hiding place.

“Ugly little thing,” Sirius said, wrinkling his nose.

“I suspect tastes were a bit different a millennium ago,” Remus said, smiling.

“Show them the message,” Sprout urged, and Albus obligingly opened the locket.

“We’ve no idea who wrote it, nor if they managed to carry out their threat to destroy the original,” Pomona explained, while Remus looked at the note with interest.

No one noticed Sirius’ pallor until he sat down hard in the nearest chair.

“Drunk again,” Snape sniffed.

“I’m not drunk, you stupid bat,” Sirius snapped, some of the color returning to his face. “It’s the note. That’s my brother’s handwriting.”

“Regulus?” Now Snape hurried over to look at the note as well. He hadn’t know Regulus Black well enough to recognize his handwriting, but once Sirius pointed it out, he realized the initials matched the Slytherin’s.

“But I don’t understand this,” Sirius shook his head in angry bewilderment. “Reg was a faithful Death Eater – at least that’s what we all thought. But this note makes it sound like he’d broken with You Know Who.”

“That would explain his death,” Snape commented quietly. “The Dark Lord does – did – not permit backsliding.”

“How can this be?” Sirius demanded of no one in particular.

Remus squeezed his friend’s shoulder. “Maybe Kreacher would know something?” he suggested.

“KREACHER!” Sirius bellowed.

A moment later, the elf popped into sight. “Yes, Master Black Sir? I is doing a very good job with the –“

“Yes, yes, Kreacher,” Sirius interrupted hastily. “What do you know about what happened to my brother?”

Kreacher’s face became guarded. “Master Regulus? He was a very very good Master. He took good care of Kreacher.”

“Yeah, great. Was he a bloody Death Eater or not?” Sirius demanded impatiently.

Kreacher bristled. “You is not to be insulting Master Regulus! He was a great wizard and pureblood!”

“Listen, you wizened little beast, answer my question before I hex you through the wall!”

“Master Regulus never hexed Kreacher! Master Regulus was a good master!” Kreacher snarled back.

“Yeah? You used to say that about my mother, and she hexed the shite out of all of you, so don’t expect me to –“ Sirius’ rant was interrupted by a tug on his arm.

“Calm down, and don’t scream at him,” Remus ordered sternly. “I know you’re upset, but you can’t take it out on Kreacher.”

“Why the fuck not?” Sirius, now in a flaming temper, shouted. “He obviously knows something about my brother, and he won’t tell me! For all we know, this could be something that will keep Harry safe and –“

“Harry Potter?” Kreacher demanded. “Kreacher does not care about stupid Boy Who Lived. Why should he have lived when Kreacher’s good master did not? Let stupid, useless, half-blooded Harry Potter die!”

Before either Sirius or Snape could punt the defiant little horror out the window, a loud pop heralded the arrival of another house elf. “WHO IS INSULTING MY MASTER HARRY POTTER SIR?” Dobby shrieked in fury.

“Harry Potter is not a Sir. Harry Potter is the weak blooded son of a mudblood and blood traitor,” Kreacher sneered.

“You will not be calling my Master Harry Potter Sir bad names!” Dobby shouted, shaking a fist at Kreacher. “You is to be calling him Master Harry Potter Sir!”

“Harry Potter! Harry Potter! Harry Potter!” Kreacher jeered, employing the ultimate house elf insult by not using any honorifics with the wizard’s name.

With a scream of rage, Dobby dove for the old elf’s throat and soon the two were rolling on the ground, punching and biting as they screeched abuse at each other.

“Oh, my!” Sprout exclaimed. She and the other wizards looked on, rather uncertain as to what to do in the face of such naked house elf aggression.

“Now then, now then – “ Dumbledore tried to pry the two apart with a spell, but the battling elves were shrouded in their own magic, and the Headmaster’s was unable to penetrate it.

Snape leaned back and enjoyed the show. Dear Wizard Wrestling Federation, I have a new suggestion for you…

Dobby finally managed to get Kreacher in a choke hold, and Sirius took advantage of the momentary lull to snatch the locket and shove it in front of Kreacher’s now extremely protruberant eyes. “Look! We’re trying to destroy the real version of this! We’re trying to make sure Reg’s dying wish has been fulfilled! Don’t you want to help us?”

Kreacher abruptly quit fighting, and Dobby warily released him. “Master is not lying to Kreacher? Master is really wishing to help Good Master Regulus?”

“YES!” Sirius shouted in frustration. “If this note is telling the truth, then Reg broke with You Know Who before he died. Is that right?”

Kreacher nodded frantically. “Oh, yes, Master Black. Good Master Regulus was very, very angry with evil Dark Lord. Evil Dark Lord hurt poor Kreacher very, very much, and Good Master Regulus did not like him no more. So Good Master Regulus decided to take what Evil Dark Lord treasured, but – “ Kreacher began to cry “ – bad, bad creatures in the lake killed poor Good Master Regulus. Good Master Regulus told Kreacher to take locket and destroy it, but bad Kreacher could not find way to do it. Will Master Black destroy it for bad Kreacher and for Good Master Regulus?” he sobbed.

Overwhelmed with pity, Sirius managed to pat the disgusting little creature on the head. “There, there, Kreacher. Reg knows you did your best. If you bring it here, you can watch while we destroy it. Will that make you feel better?” he asked hopefully. He really didn’t want to have a soggy house elf.

“Oh! Good Master Black!” Kreacher cried, with all the lightning changeability of his race. “Good Master Black is so kind to bad Kreacher! He is giving him Muggles to torture and he is wanting to help Kreacher carry out Good Master Regulus’ last command! Yes, yes, yes! Kreacher will be getting Evil Dark Lord’s locket so that Good Master Black can be destroying it!” He popped away, leaving a rather shell-shocked audience.

“Hmf,” Dobby sniffed. “You is too nice to that bad elf,” he told Sirius reprovingly. “That bad elf had better be nice to Master Harry Potter Sir or Dobby will be twisting off his head!” And with that rather unnerving threat, Dobby popped away.

“Well.” Remus finally managed to break the silence. “This helps to explain why Kreacher has gotten so barmy. I mean, if he’s been unable to carry out Regulus’ last command to him…”

“Yes, I suppose that’s correct,” Dumbledore mused.

“Sirius, what did that elf mean about your giving him Muggles to torture?” Poppy demanded.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake, didn’t we just agree the elf is insane?” Snape snapped. “Who knows what it’s talking about?”

“I suppose. I’m sorry, dear,” Poppy apologized, patting Sirius’ shoulder.

Kreacher reappeared just then, holding what appeared to be the twin to the locket in Sirius’ hand. “Here, Good Master Black,” he said anxiously. “Now you is to be destroying it!”

Albus intervened. “Just a moment please, Kreacher. Hmmmm.” He cast a few diagnostic spells, then nodded. “It is indeed a horcrux. No wonder you were unable to do anything to it, Kreacher,” he said kindly to the elf. “If you would come with me, though, I will destroy it while you watch.”

Kreacher gave him a suspicious look. “Good Master Black is coming too?”

Sirius sighed. “Oh, all right. Come on, Moony. Let’s go see what it’s like when fiendyre eats a horcrux.”

The little procession made its way out of Albus’ office, while the rest made a beeline for the drinks cupboard. Watching elf wrestling definitely called for a large glass of fire whiskey.

“One more down!” Filius toasted, lifting his glass.

“Yes, but how many still to go?” Minerva fretted.