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PW& the GCBC, Chapter 3, Conclusion - Wemyss's Appalling Hobby:
From the Party Guilty of Committing 'Gate of Ivory, Gate of Horn'
PW& the GCBC, Chapter 3, Conclusion

The potion was beginning to compromise a section of the wards that kept Dolohov and his rabble from the Forbidden Forest.  Suddenly, there was a sudden, sharp, cracking noise – and not from the wards, but behind them.  Dolohov whirled ’round, his wand in his hand.


‘Crisp?’  Crabbe made the offer without blinking, his mouth full. 


Dolohov’s hand tightened until his knuckles were white.  ‘Fool!  We must be silent!’


Minerva, watching yet in her Animagus form, twitched her whiskers.  It would make a cat laugh.


‘Well,’ said Harry, some hours later, ‘we’d best take a kip, all of us.  We’ll be working all night, tonight.’


‘You think it will drag out?’


‘What, Dolohov and the Morsmorons?  Hardly.  But the bloody paperwork could last through brekker.  Mind if we billet ourselves on you two, Penny?  Perce?  Super.  I’m for bed, then.’


‘Did Kingsley – sorry, Harry, I’ll make this quick – I suppose it will be the Veil for Dolohov and his lot?’


Harry turned and looked at Percy with unwonted gravity.  ‘The crimes are capital, yes.  It will make the first executions we’ve had to hold since the War.  But we’ll not be using the Veil, ever.  No Dark bastard will ever share the honour of going the way Sirius went.’


By midnight, Dolohov and his, ah, ‘carefully chosen’ coterie had made their way painstakingly through the wards.


As it was night time, none noticed, or should have thought it odd, that they were shadowed by a nocturnal moth.  Curious, the affinity journalists have for such Animagus forms, although Luna had become rather tired of the ‘Luna moth’ jokes: that was a Canadian species, after all.


The raiding party moved quietly: it wouldn’t do at all to draw the attention of the Forest’s denizens.  All was still – until, with a sudden crash, one of their number fell, screams and bellows rending the air.  Crabbe had blundered into one of the very traps he had helped set, and was now enmeshed in Devil’s Snare and confronting a Venomous Tentacula.


‘Leave him,’ spat Dolohov.  Rowle opened his mouth to argue, but closed it again as they heard the susurration of onrushing Acromantulas and the distant hoof-beats of Centaurs.




At Penny’s insistence, Poppy Pomfrey had Flooed by to look in on Percy, and Poppy had also insisted on monitoring the health of the other sleeping Wizards and Witches.  When she finally left, shaking her head over such dangerous plans, she had left behind vials upon vials of healing potions.


By dawn, Dolohov and the remaining Death Eaters had reached their hide, close by the margin of the Forest, near to the White Tomb.  So soon as the light dimmed that afternoon, they would begin picking at the wards and locks, to effect entry.


After a hasty and rather early tea that did the office of breakfast, whilst – as Hagrid, Minerva, and Luna reported, Dolohov and his ragtag band yet slept – Harry and his team gathered their weapons and Apparated into the White Tomb, as only Harry and those he accompanied could have done.  The others remained in the antechamber – for this was a sepulchre fit for a pharaoh – as Harry went within the burial chamber to pay his respects to Albus’s memory. 


‘Why “Gwen”, Ginny?’


Ginny patted Percy’s hand.  ‘Well, operational security.  No one would ever believe that my codename was so close to my name, and thus, no one would ever believe that I was involved.’


Ron was paying them no attention whatever: he was standing, hand in hand with Hermione, at the door of the burial chamber in case Harry should call.


‘And those buggers seek to disturb this.’




‘Dumbledore did right by Harry, in the end.’


‘He was willing to sacrifice him!’  Draco was vehement in defence of his not-so-secret hero, Harry.


‘Malfoy….’  George shook his head.  ‘Dumbledore feared that Harry might have to sacrifice himself to defeat Tom Riddle.  But the instant he learnt that Riddle had foolishly used Harry’s own blood to resurrect himself, he was as certain as damn it that Harry needed only will the sacrifice, and Riddle would die and Harry live.’


‘And he could hardly tell me – or Snape – in advance,’ Harry added, from behind them.  Draco jumped.  Harry had a nasty habit of sneaking up on people at the worst possible times.  ‘Operational security – to quote Our Gin-gin.’




‘Yes, Hermione?’


‘I thought you were leaving that with Albus?’


‘This?’  Harry carefully lifted, but did not wave, the Elder Wand.  ‘This appeared in my hand last night, I didn’t just nick it from the tomb.  The Cloak turned up in my ops pack, and despite my having tried to smash and lose it yonks ago, the damned Ring keeps popping up, whole and sound, on my finger.  Godric’s Sword just isn’t in it.  Nothing like enchanted objects with minds of their own to make a Wizard grey before his time.’


Draco and Ginny both spoke at once: ‘You’re not going grey.’  And then blushed, equally.


Harry carefully ignored the byplay.  ‘Apparently, being Master of the Hallows means they own you.  Which is why Dolohov’s wasting his time in any case.’


‘Why not arrest them now, then?’


‘Well.  First, it’s amusing, watching them cock this up.  And second, I want them to attempt the capital crime of necromancy, and see them duly executed.’


There wasn’t much to say to that.


Darkness had fallen.  Dolohov and his surviving associates were now beginning to ravel the wards around the White Tomb.  Faintly, ever so often, a glede would flare and fade as a wand jarred a ward.  They worked with grim precision, knowing that a false step would subject them to unknown and unimaginable retribution.


Time was drawing on.  The wards were obstinate.


‘Oh, this is getting boring,’ said Harry, watching them via Sneakoscope from within.  And he dropped the wards in a sudden flare of light.


‘Yes!’  Dolohov wiped the untimely sweat from his brow.  ‘Now we have only to open the entry slab.  Have the materials ready for the Inferius rit- – aaaaahhhh.’


The entry, presumably tied to the wards, gaped suddenly open before them.  They hurried in.


The antechamber was dark as – a tomb.  ‘Quick,’ said Dolohov.  ‘Lights.  Hurry.’


From the Plutonian dark, before they could cast a Lumos, a great voice boomed.  ‘WHO DARES DISTURB THE SLEEP OF ALBUS DUMBLEDORE?’


Rowle yelled.  But Dolohov was implacable, and hurriedly illuminated the chamber.


They were surrounded, by a formidable yet oddly careless group. 


‘Rather impressive, Weasel,’ said Draco, negligently.  ‘Not quite to Snape’s standard, mind, but not bad.’


Seizing the moment, Dolohov began casting his speciality curse, jets of putrid purple light pulsing from his wand.  They went nowhere.


‘Looking for this, Antonin?’  Harry Potter.  Of course.  And with the Elder Wand held negligently in his fingers.  He could retrieve the situation even now, Dolohov realised, if only he could defeat the brat.




His wand fizzled and his spell impacted a shield and flew apart.  He prepared to cast again, when Potter pointed the Doomstick at him and casually said, ‘Incarcerous.  Expelliarmus.  Stupefy.


Dolohov must have hit his head as he went down.  (Percy felt the faintest fellow-feeling for him, recalling the night before.)  When Dolohov was able to understand what was being said to his bound and disarmed companions, he rather wished he’d stayed mazed.


‘— capital crimes, you know.  Selwyn?  Well done.  You and Lucius both may expect a favourable response to any reasonable application for removing some of the restrictions upon you, although you’ve both – Lucius particularly – a long way to go before all is forgiven, or at any rate paid for.  Dolohov, I fear you may have missed some of the formalities, but you’ll be given another chance to hear them when you’re taken to the cells.  Well done, all.  You especially, Percy.  Dean, if you and Justin would summon my Aurors and some MLEs, we can dispose of this rubbish and trot off into the sunrise, or at least towards the Great Hall.  I understand Minerva has laid on a “guid Scots breakfast”, and I’m famished.


‘Oh – and, Dolohov?  When you see Tom Riddle in Hell, do pass this on, from me.’  Harry gave a two-fingered salute.  ‘He’ll know what it means.  Tom may have been a murderous shit, as you are, but, as you so unfortunately are not, he was at least an English shit.  Oi!  Sloper!  In here!  You and your men come along, we’ve breakfast waiting, and Minerva won’t tolerate tardiness.’





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6 comments or Leave a comment
sgt_majorette From: sgt_majorette Date: December 10th, 2007 03:10 am (UTC) (Link)

Draco and Ginny both spoke at once: ‘You’re not going grey.’ And then blushed, equally.

Hey, that'll work!

Now, while Ginny's playing for the Harpies, could she and Draco step out together and totally confuse the issue in the tabloids?
wemyss From: wemyss Date: December 12th, 2007 04:37 pm (UTC) (Link)

There's an idea.

I like it.

And thank you.
froganon From: froganon Date: December 10th, 2007 04:58 am (UTC) (Link)


Excellent use of tools and spells.
Enjoyed this immensely.
wemyss From: wemyss Date: December 12th, 2007 04:39 pm (UTC) (Link)

Why, thank you.

I'm very much obliged.
From: tree_and_leaf Date: December 11th, 2007 10:41 pm (UTC) (Link)

Now that I am awake enough to comment

A very satisfying conclusion, and I'm glad Percy came through. I still wouldn't trust Lucius as far as I could throw him, though.
wemyss From: wemyss Date: December 12th, 2007 04:40 pm (UTC) (Link)

Trust? LUCIUS? Snigger.

Nor would I.

I'm so pleased that you liked it all.
6 comments or Leave a comment