Chapter Text

Chapter 89: The Accounting of Debts

The darkness cradled him like a warm bath as he slowly woke. His body was heavy; in that way, it could be after a long quidditch match. There were murmuring voices around him, but their words slipped away before he could grasp their meaning. He remembered being afraid before, but the reason why seemed far away. He felt safe and warm, and sleep beckoned him back into the dark.

The next time Harry woke, it was to an insistent hand squeezing his. The voices around him were louder; this time, he allowed his mind to rise to consciousness. The words were still gibberish, but he squeezed the hand back and opened his eyes.

"Wha… How, how did it go?" Harry asked as he blinked at the bright light engulfing the potions lab. "Why is it so bright in here? Did something go wrong?"

The pressure around his hand tightened, and he squinted to see his dad clutching one of his hands while he used the other to run his wand over Harry's body. Over his shoulder, Harry could see the others running their own scans on him, too. He had a nasty headache but could wiggle his fingers and toes. Nothing felt wrong with his body, and Harry still felt like himself. "Did it work?" he repeated. "Did you get the horcrux out of me?"

"Azh doisfev xathe sudfmeeh thyr, Jullti. Smejifh qoul pilta himgew. Hemgit tbonm rwefploie. Thlu mewq poltud." Snape said quietly.

"Huh? Are you speaking Greek?"

“Himgaw qumol ghavd, Jullti."

"What spells are you saying?" Harry asked again.

“Ghrumd quol pislta himgaw? Ghrumd thulry moowe piltox?" Achala leaned over him with his wand while whispering the foreign spells.

"What spells are you casting? Am I still a horcrux?" Harry was pretty sure he still had his soul since he was awake and thinking, but he didn't understand why no one spoke English. He knew Uru and Achala would often cast spells in their native tongues, but it was odd for Snape to cast in anything but Latin. Sometimes, he used Ancient Greek when he was working on advanced potions. But something must have gone terribly wrong for them to speak another language so that he couldn't understand on purpose. Something horrible enough that they didn't want him to know. "Tell me what happened! I have the right to know!

Snape let go of his hand and ran a soothing hand through his hair as he spoke quiet, incomprehensible words with the healers around them. After a few confusing minutes of this, Snape straightened before slowly shrinking down to his animagus form.

"Dad?" Harry reached out and stroked the black snake coiled up beside him on the hospital bed. "What's going on?"

"Harry, can you understand me?" the snake asked.

"Of course."

"Good," he hissed. "Could you understand me when I was human?"

"No. Were you speaking English?" Harry asked. He could easily see where this was going. He must have been speaking parseltongue for Snape to have transformed. But, why… "Do I still have Voldemort's soul inside me?" he whispered fearfully.

"No. The potion was successful." The snake nodded to an old, worn-out cauldron. "Voldemort's last soul piece was successfully removed. We can destroy it later when you feel up to it."

"Are you sure? Why can't I speak English if I am free? Something must have gone wrong."

"Healer Bonham thinks it's residual dark magic from the soul shard living in your brain for many years. The healers are going to run some tests, but don't worry. I am sure this is just temporary. Do you notice anything else? Any pain?"

"No pain. Just the lights—can you turn them down? They are too bright. Oh, and you can tell everyone they can talk normally. There is no reason to whisper."

Snape the snake flicked his tongue. "We weren't whispering."

Harry's face must have shown his fear because Snape slithered onto his lap. "Don't worry, Harry. If we could save you from being a horcrux, we can fix a small sensitivity to light and sound; it is only a small side effect—nothing we can't handle. You are free. You are safe."

Harry felt overwhelming relief at Snape's words. He had always trusted his dad to cure him, but still. It had been an issue at the back of his mind. What if Snape had taken too long? What if Voldemort had found out he was a horcrux? Would he have tried to possess him? Would he have been turned into another Tom Riddle like the diary tried to do to Ginny?

It was a worry he had never voiced, barely even thought. If Voldemort had subsumed his soul, would there have been anything left of him to save?

But now, now he was free.

*

The next time Harry woke, it was to see the room darkened and empty of everyone except his ever-present guards, himself, Snape, Healer Bonham, and the two grumpy goblins. Their conversation stopped when they noticed he was awake, and Healer Bonham approached his bedside.

"How are you feeling?" Healer Bonham asked as she ran a wand across his body.

"Better." Harry looked around groggily before shooting up. "I can hear you!"

"Not quite," she gave him a bracing smile and then pointed to a conjured stand beside the bed. There was a small bird there that spoke as she did. "Your father thought of a way for us to communicate since we all can't transform into snakes."

Snape spoke up then, and the bird translated his words, "I borrowed Artemis, Luna's lidérc. She was happy to loan her to us to translate for you. Hopefully, it won't be too long before we have something else figured out."

"What is wrong with me?"

"The soul shard was part of you for over a decade, and your body had to grow around it. Now that it is gone, your mind and magic must fill that hole. Our scans show some minor scarring, which we might be able to heal. But we also expect your magic will be helping, too."

"So my magic is fine?"

"We already know it's affecting how your brain is processing your senses, but we will need to do more tests on your motor skills, memory, and magical core to see if anything else was affected."

"Only when you feel up to it," Snape said. "I don't want you to push yourself."

Harry settled back into his pillows and stretched. He felt much better after his last nap and wanted to start the healer's tests immediately. "Where did everyone else go?"

"I sent the other healers back to St Mungo's to consult with some specialists. Injuries like yours are rare, but healing them is possible. However, the scarring in your brain is unique, so they want to be prepared for possible issues with the specialists' recommendations."

One of the goblins clucked his tongue and said, "The potion master Bose, who is already bound to a contract with your family, is worth consulting. His research on mental scarring has been extensive in his work to cure the Longbottoms. An addendum to the confidentiality portion of his contract could be signed to bring him in as a consult."

Harry's stomach dropped at the goblin's words. The Longbottoms had permanent brain damage that St Mungo's best healers had never been able to heal. Would that be him, too? Bose's research was probably years from testing, and he didn't want to become 'the-boy-who-couldn't-speak-English.' Harry tried to school his face, but he must not have been successful because Snape dropped a hand on his shoulder.

Their eyes met, and Harry reminded himself that this was a small price to pay. The horcrux was gone, and Voldemort was one step closer to dead.

*

Amelia,

The trial was a success. There are some unforeseen side effects, but nothing that should concern the war.

Nagini is the last.

Master Severus Snape

***

Greg was the first one to go to the Lestrange Estate. He had Dobby apparate him straight into the stable and quickly searched it before allowing Dobby to go back and get the others. He had been worried that someone would be here looking after the horses in his father's place, but there was no sign that anyone had been here in months. The house elves had fed and watered the Abraxans, but the winged horses were clearly agitated from a lack of care. Their coats looked matted and dull, and the stallions had kicked holes in their stalls.

There would be no Death Eaters stumbling upon them here.

It was not what he would have liked, but he had to ignore the Abraxans. Maybe they could come back and care for them after Vince and his dad were free. But it might attract attention if he let them into the paddock now. And it would leave evidence of them being there if he brushed them. Instead, he got to work preparing for their intended mission.

The studs had to be kept separate during the breeding season, so strong isolation wards existed between the stalls and the adjacent paddocks. Draco's mom had thought hearing and seeing the breeding unseemly, so the wards had been extended to screen the stables entirely from the house— making this part of the rescue mission would be their easiest task by far.

After turning on the wards, he added notice-me-not and silencing spells to the barn. The new wand Ron's brother sent worked much better for him than Mulciber's, so it was easy work. Bill Weasley had matched the wand wood and core, so it responded well to him. He had to put more power into his spells than with his original wand, but the spells lasted longer; he already planned on keeping this one to use outside of classes.

Ron's new wand had also reacted well to him. On the other hand, Thad was borrowing Theo's first wand since his replacement wand wouldn't react to him at all. Theo's wand only partially responded to Thad, which didn't concern Greg much. If they were caught, Thad being bad at magic would keep up the ruse that Thad was just a scared little kid looking for his dad.

He finished casting a few more spells outside, and the others had arrived by the time he returned to the stables. Theo and Mulciber were noticeably reluctant, but those two hadn't stopped complaining since Pansy's letter had arrived. He grunted at them before zeroing in on Dobby. "How many wizards are here?"

"Seven bad wizards!" the elf squeaked, "Three outside the dungeons playing cards, and four on the upper floors."

"And how many elves?"

"Three—all in the kitchen."

"None of them are cleaning? Are you sure?"

Dobby nodded his head vigorously. "I is sure. They will be in the kitchen."

"Let's hope it stays that way," Ron sighed. "So, what's the plan? You said you could get us into the dungeon?"

"Yeah. Here, you three, take the polyjuice potion now." Greg dug out three vials of polyjuice from his pocket and handed them to Ron, Theo and Mulciber. He impatiently waited while they gagged at the foul potion and morphed into brown-haired, brown-eyed muggle boys.

"Okay. You three are going to wait here while Thad and I-"

"Oh, no!" Theo interrupted, "Absolutely not. I am staying with Thad!"

"…get into the house and down into the basement," Greg continued through Theo's protests. Greg knew Thad had to help to make this task count, and even if they were caught sneaking around the manor, they wouldn't be in danger before they got the muggles. "I'll show Thad the path to the coal cellar, and he will let you in through there.

"The rest of you will wait here, and when Thad opens the coal cellar, Dobby will know and can lead you there. It opens off the back of the kitchens, so as long as the polyjuice works and you look like children, the elves won't raise the alarm if they notice you, but try not to bother them."

"Why doesn't Dobby just apparate us in?" Mulciber demanded. "I'm sure there aren't any wards on the coal cellar."

"Dobby can't," Greg rolled his eyes. "I told you; the house elves can't do anything for us here. After Draco's parents found out about the dragon, they ordered all the house elves not to obey any underage wizards here. And wards are backing that up—"

"…because Draco is a spoiled brat," Ron grumbled.

Greg just talked over him, "However, they will let me wander around the estate since they know me. And Thad, too, since he is just a kid. And if anyone catches us, we can say we are looking for our dads. Since the elves don't know you they might raise the alarms if they see you doing something suspicious, depending on what the others told them to do, so stick close to Dobby and let him do the talking if any of them notice you. And Weasley, Mulciber—have Dobby apparate you back to camp if the polyjuice starts wearing off. No way either of you can get away with being here."

"No! I am going with you!"

Greg eyed Theo dubiously. He might be able to come with them since he could pretend to be looking for his dad, too, but he was too unstable whenever his brother was in danger. Theo was likelier to attack than play along with the lost son gambit. No, it was better if he stuck with Weasley and Mulciber.

Greg was only willing to compromise on taking Igor and the three serpents. They were quiet, and any Death Eaters who saw them would think they were just pets. So he reluctantly allowed the animals to come in exchange for Theo's willingness to stay behind.

They left the stables with Greg in the lead and Thad close behind him. Igor took the rear with Thavery while the other two snakes slithered beside Thad. It was a silent walk through the overgrown paddocks, and when they got to the last field before the back of the house, Greg signalled for the others to wait for him to go first.

He had snuck around the estate most of his childhood, but if he were caught this time, the punishment would be much worse than a few missed meals and a red bottom. Potential buyers and breeders would always meet in the smoking room with Draco's dad before being led to the stables, so he knew exactly how to open that door without being caught. He snuck across the lawn, just like he had done a thousand times before, and jimmied the lock open like Draco had taught him.

Once they were in the smoking room, Greg locked the door behind them to cover their tracks. The next step was the most dangerous, as they had to traverse halfway down the hall to the butler's pantry without being seen. Luckily, none of the Death Eaters appeared, and they were able to make it to the butler's pantry unscathed.

Once the door was closed behind them, Greg pushed open the second cupboard and revealed a small staircase. "This was an old muggle manor before the Lestranges took it over," he whispered, "These are servant stairs that lead to the wine cellar."

"Which is in the basement!" Thad whispered excitedly back.

"Yep," Greg grinned. He lit his wand and led them down the stairs. Getting in had been even easier than he had expected. Getting the muggles out was another story.

Once in the wine cellar, he cracked the door and listened closely. He could hear faint voices echoing from the dungeon, but no footsteps or lights were coming their way. He closed the door again and turned to Thad. "Alright, we are going to split up now. Once we leave this room, you need to be really quiet but if anyone sees you just tell them you are looking for your dad and you don't know how you got here. Go to the left and straight down to the end of the hallway. Then go left again, and you will find the coal cellar at the end of that hall. They keep a key to the outside doors on a hook by the stairs, but it might be by the coal chute if someone forgot.

"Once you open the doors, Dobby will know and lead the others to you. Bring them here and continue down this hall. Go straight when you get to the staircase, and then make a left. Be careful not to go right cause that takes you to the kitchen."

"Maybe we shouldn't split up," Thad worried his lip. "What if I can't find you?"

"Nah, it'll be okay, Thad. I want to scope out the guards before the others arrive, but I'll take the snakes, and if anything is wrong, I'll send them to find you with a message. You take Igor; he'll protect you. And if you get lost, Igor can smell me and guide you to me."

Thad still looked uncertain, but Greg set off before the boy could protest—he was aware that the younger Nott didn't want him to get hurt. But he needed to get to the guards before the others interfered—it would turn into an argument about what to do with the Death Eaters.

After he got far enough away from Thad that he knew the boy couldn't hear him, Greg spoke to the snakes. He hated this part—having to explain his plan—as it felt crazy when he said it out loud. "I want the guards to think the muggles escaped on their own. That way, they won't come looking for us. I need to act like a muggle, which means you can't be seen with more than one head, Thavary. The Dark Lord will punish them for allowing some stupid muggles to overpower them, but better them than us."

Thavary slithered silently beside him, but he knew the serpent could understand what he was saying and translate it to the other two snakes. Her silence felt judgemental, but maybe he was just being paranoid. "It is safer this way. If they thought someone helped them, they would think there was a traitor or a problem with their wards. If that happens, they might move Vince."

Thavary reluctantly agreed, so he dropped his lumos and cast a disillusionment charm over the naga's extra heads. He had to disguise himself now too, or pretending to be a muggle would be useless, and drank one of the polyjuice vials—it tasted worse than horse piss, but he gagged it down. When his body settled, he felt a foot shorter and ten times weaker. It wouldn't last long thanks to his troll blood, but it was the best he could do.

He murmured his mantra again: "We have to keep Vince safe." He thinned his lips and clenched his teeth as he slipped his wand into its holster. Greg unsheathed his sword and resumed his dark trek across the basement; Vince was the only thing that mattered now.

Greg signalled the animals to stop and listen when they got close to the dungeon door. There were three guards playing cards, as Dobby had said. He didn't recognize their voices but knew the men were deep into the game from watching his father at the poker table. The guards were also three sheets to the wind and wouldn't notice him if he set off an erumpent horn in the hallway. They weren't worried about the muggle prisoners escaping, and they certainly weren't worried about a sneak rescue mission. They probably assumed that if the aurors were to attack, it would be loud and violent, and the wards would give them plenty of notice to cast a quick-sobriety charm.

Greg clenched his fist around the handle of his sword. How dare they sit here celebrating while Vince and his father were suffering. Thavary was coiled next to him, and Greg was tempted to run in with the sword and slay them all. Three drunks against him and Thavary were decent odds, but he was sure he could improve it.

He thought quickly, conjured a few cards, and shot them below one of the guards' chairs. "Snakes," he hissed, "Slither over their feet and draw their attention to the cards on the ground. Bite them if you can."

They twined around his ankles, and he nudged them toward the table.

The snakes slithered forward, and he followed them to the edge of the doorway. He watched them fade into the shadows below the table but was aware of their progress by watching the guards twitch. One rubbed his ankle distractedly, while another looked down as he shook his leg.

When the bitten guard noticed the cards under another player's chair, he jumped up angrily and shot a stinging hex at the guard sitting over the extra cards, accusing him of cheating. The other one jumped up, too, and grabbed his wand. The three guards devolved into a loud argument about the extra cards on the floor, and Greg took the opportunity to hit the closest one with a mild confounding hex before ducking back into the hallway.

He could hear that the one he hexed had stopped shouting, but the other two were no longer talking in full sentences, either. "What's happening?" he asked Thavary.

"The one you hexed is trying to stomp on Robin. The other two are trying to empty each other's pockets while protecting their own."

"Tell Robin to lead the wizard here." Greg grinned and cast a notice me not charm over himself and Thavary.

It felt like forever, but it was probably only a few minutes before Thavary hissed that Robin was headed back to them, with the confounded guard giving chase. They stood in a doorway and let the guard rush past as he chased the snake. The drunk Death Eater alternated between sloppily cast stunning spells and poorly aimed stomps as the speedy snake slithered from the dungeon into the hall. He wasn't paying the shadows any attention. Greg quickly stepped behind him and clubbed the guard on the back of the head with the hilt of his sword. The angle was wrong because he was so much shorter than expected, so he had to swing back up a second time, catching a lucky break with a blow on the side of the man's head. The guard went down in a tangle of limbs, and Greg leaned over to hit him twice more to ensure that the man wouldn't get back up.

One guard down, two to go.

The other two guards had started cursing each other while he had been busy. He considered the fight but hesitated to interfere. If he shot his own spells at them, they might notice him and turn on him.

He needed a way to attack them from behind so they wouldn't see him. Or maybe he could get behind one of them and hex the other with something nasty to escalate the fight. Or if the door to the cells opened, and they thought the muggles were trying to escape, he could take them down while they were fighting the muggles.

He didn't have a lot of options, but there was something. It was probably stupid, but it was something Vince's cousins used to do to scare him when they were kids, and that was all Greg could think of now.

All three serpents were with him again, so he told them his plan. The snakes would go into the dungeon and herd the muggles towards the door. He would open it from this side, and the muggles would run out and distract the guards. Once they'd agreed, he pulled out his wand again and cast a popular prank spell on the two snakes and Thavary, "Reducio Tempus Duo Maximo Reverso." Greg held the prank shrinking and engorgement charm until the three serpents were as small as a worm. "Go past the guards and into the dungeon quickly," he reminded them. "The spell will wear off in two minutes, and then you'll transform into huge snakes for two minutes. Make sure you aren't under anything when the first two minutes are up, or you will be crushed. I will cast a blasting charm on the door in about three minutes. Try to chase the muggles out the door so it looks like they are attacking the guards."

Once the serpents set off, Greg strengthened his notice-me-not charm and slid into the room. He couldn't cast the blasting hex wordlessly, so he needed to get closer to the dungeon door. He got hit with stray stinging hexes as he moved through the room, but his spell held, and the guards never noticed him.

When two minutes hit, he could hear a few screams from the muggles that grew steadily louder as more prisoners spotted the snakes. He remembered how scary it had been the first time Vince's cousins blew up his stuffed unicorn when he was four, and he almost felt bad for the muggles to have these giant snakes appear so suddenly. It must seem like they were losing their minds after being held prisoner in this horrible place.

Oh well, he hoped they could get over it.

Just as he had hoped, some of the muggles began banging on the door and screaming for help.

The next time the Death Eater across the room cast a hex that missed, Greg cast his blasting hex at the dungeon door's hinges. The muggles pounding on the other side of the door froze as the heavy wooden door thudded to the ground in front of them.

The guards also froze—their drunken rage finally receding at the inconceivable idea of a muggle daring to escape a magical dungeon.

Those few seconds they stared at one another over the fallen oak door seemed to stretch over an endless ocean of uncertainty. But the moment was broken with echoing screams about monsters and demons inside the dungeon. The muggles started to run into the guard room, and the guards turned their wands to the muggles. The head muggle was hit with two curses and collapsed in the doorway.

Two of the prisoners stumbled over the man on the ground, and another took the brunt of the next few curses. But more muggles poured through the door, screaming at the snakes behind them and the spells flashing in front of them. It was everything Greg could have hoped for.

Greg barrelled into the back of the closest Death Eater and wrapped an arm around the man's neck. He wanted to get him in a headlock and knock the guy out, but his angle was off again from being too short. The body was weak, too, and the guard slapped his arm away and jabbed him in the stomach. He almost lost his hold entirely but dug through the sharp pain and got his arm back around the man's throat. Since this body wasn't as strong as his, he adjusted his hold to get his elbow below the man's throat and kicked off the floor to wedge his knees into his back. He then pulled back hard and closed off the guard's airways.

The choking man stumbled and scratched at him, but Greg held on tight and refused to be shaken off. His opponent wasn't dumb, though, and attempted to fall backwards onto the floor. It would have loosened his hold and put him at a disadvantage if he hadn't been taught to fight by his dad since before he could walk. Even though he was smaller in body, Greg could maintain his grip and tighten his arms around the other's windpipe. He hoped to keep this up until the guard passed out, but Theo appeared above him and ended the fight, spelling the man to sleep. The man collapsed hard, a dead weight that Greg had to struggle to push off him.

Theo tried to help him up, but Greg brushed him off and scrambled to his feet. Taking stock of the situation, it appeared that the rest of the group had arrived, but the fight was over. The muggles had overwhelmed the other guard and had him on the floor. Mulciber and Ron were there with them, so Greg figured that was that.

He was frustrated to have the fight taken from him—he barely did anything! And Theo had stolen the one win he could have had for himself today. A few muggles were eyeing him distrustfully, and he eyed them back. He hadn't seen many muggles, and they looked kind of mangy.

"Hey, you kids, who are you?" One of the muggle men closest to him asked.

Greg grunted. Thad elbowed him and turned to the muggle with a friendly grin. "Sorry, Greg isn't much of a talker. My friends and I are here to rescue you!"

Thad continued talking to the muggles, but he could feel the polyjuice beginning to wear off. He turned away from the others so they couldn't see his face while it was morphing. He debated taking another dose, but it didn't last very long on him and didn't seem worth it unless they ran into Death Eaters on the way out. It was not like he cared if any muggles saw his face.

Ron was taking charge and organizing the muggles for the rest of their escape. There aren't any apparition wards in the coal cellar, and now that it is unlocked, Dobby can apparate the adult muggles from there. Mulciber and Ron are going to take turns escorting them through the basement in small groups since Dobby can only apparate a few at a time. Thad and Theo are going to sneak the kids to the stables, where the wards will allow Dobby to apparate children out, so the only thing left to do is help the infirm.

He brushed past the lot, stomping through the dungeon to check on anyone left behind.

He found some muggles huddled in the corners and a few curled up on the floor, too weak or injured to stand, but not as many as he expected. He guessed that Theo was right and the Dark Lord wanted the muggles whole for the inferi ritual. He approached a muggle standing over another on the floor and spoke slowly so as not to scare her. "Come on, we are getting you out of here."

"She broke her ankle and can't walk. I can't carry her."

He grabbed an empty bowl on the floor and broke it in two before transfiguring the pieces into crutches for the lame muggle. "Here. Use these and go join the others lining up."

Greg moved on to another muggle curled up near them, watching him with wide eyes. "Can you walk or do you need me to carry you?"

"My name's Greg." He tried again. "Do you need me to carry out of here?"

He didn't know what was wrong with the man. The muggle just sat there, shivering with fear, making no move to speak or stand. Sighing, he pocketed his wand and used both his hands to sling the muggle over his shoulder with a grunt. "I'll carry you then. But if you piss on me, I am dropping you."

The muggle whimpered as Greg pushed through the crowd, reaching the front of the dungeon. When he got to the front, he saw that Thad had had a similar idea. Thad had convinced Igor to carry one of the injured muggles on his back to the coal cellar.

Ron gestured the two of them to the front. "The injured take priority. Mulciber is taking this lot to the coal cellar; you take the rear."

Greg grunted in agreement and followed Mulciber and the muggles into the hall. As he was walking by, Ron clapped him on the shoulder. "Good job, Greg. This was as easy as you said. Thank you."

"Don't count your chickens before they are hatched, Weasley."

"Nah, I reckon this is a sign that we are ready to get Vincent. Magic must approve of our quest after this."

Greg felt hope swell through him. They were going to go get Vince. He was going to be safe.

He adjusted the muggle on his shoulders and walked forward with renewed strength. Vince was going to be safe.