Harry Potter The Long Lost Malfoy

The middle goblin paused. One more of them emerged from the darkness behind the podiums, and whispered urgently into his ear. The goblin waved an impatient hand without taking his gaze from Narcissa, and the goblin who had spoken bowed and retreated.

"One would have thought you would restore it to its rightful owners. A cup of that description was stolen from the Smith family in the 1960s."

Narcissa gave a delicate shrug. "The Horcrux is connected to the Dark Lord. I intend to destroy the Dark Lord for what he did to my son. I consider the Smith family's claim less important than defending my family."

This time, it was the goblin standing at the podium on the left who spoke. "How did you come to know this?"

"He made other Horcruxes," Narcissa said evenly. "He entrusted my husband with one of them, and we used that in a ritual that allowed us to divine the existence of the others." Not even to get the Hufflepuff cup would she divulge the existence of the shard in Henry. It was too great a weakness.

There was a louder murmur this time, but the goblin at the middle podium snapped his fingers, and the sound stilled. He leaned closer to her, his eyes wide with something that Narcissa couldn't define. "How many Horcruxes did he make?"

Narcissa grimaced. "We are uncertain, but at least six." There did remain some uncertainty, for her, about the snake Lucius had killed in the graveyard, and that would make her statement sound like truth for the goblins.

There was another storm of murmurs, this time in the language that didn't sound like Gobbledegook. Narcissa stood with her hand resting near the Portkey and said nothing, but wondered.

The goblin at the middle podium finally nodded, and the murmurs died as if they had never happened. "We will help you fetch the Horcrux cup from the Lestrange vault, but it will be up to you to destroy it," he said.

"I appreciate your help," Narcissa said. "What is the price?"

"The destruction of the Horcruxes, and anything else you can destroy that relates to the being calling itself Lord Voldemort." The goblin leaned forwards, and his intense golden eyes scanned her. "Humans are not the only ones who have prophecies. We have our own, and the Dark Lord who made six Horcruxes spells the end of our life."

Narcissa felt a chill rake cold talons down the middle of her chest. It seemed unwise to ask for more details, such as what the goblin meant. "End of our way of life," perhaps. But it didn't matter. What did was that they had made it so that she was able to help Henry.

"We have a bargain."

"Are you all right, Father?"

Lucius turned his head. He and Narcissa had been standing in the garden watching as Lucius's Fiendfyre, corralled by a powerful application of the family wards, burned the cup Horcrux to death. Neither of them had heard Henry come out through the glass doors that led into the grounds. He stood now watching them with those grey eyes that were supposedly identical to Draco's but so much more solemn.

Lucius stepped towards Henry and then checked, glancing at Narcissa. She shook her head, silently granting Lucius permission to be the one to comfort their son.

Henry had spoken to him, after all.

Lucius stepped up to Henry and wrapped his arms around him, lowering his head to breathe in the sharp scent of Calming Draught that flowed from him. Healer Letham had recommended that Henry take them, the past several nights. "I'm well, Henry. We just destroyed another Horcrux."

"Oh." Henry's voice was muffled as he leaned into Lucius's embrace. "But you don't sound…very happy about it?"

Lucius hugged him tighter, and then drew back to let his fingers rest for a moment on Henry's scar. "I will not be happy until all of them are destroyed. Until we have figured out some way to take the one from you."

"Oh," Henry said again, but it sounded more understanding this time. He snuggled closer. Lucius drew him in, relishing every moment, every second of being with a son he had once thought he would never see again. "Yeah, I can see that."

Narcissa stood nearby, one hand clasped over her lips, eyes so bright that the moon seemed to strike sparks from them. She glanced at Lucius and then looked at the ground. Narcissa had never enjoyed weeping in front of others, even beloved others. It had been one of the things that had drawn Lucius to her when they married.

Lucius ran his hand lightly over Henry's hair. Words crept up his throat. He wanted to propose again that Henry stay home this year, that he get tutors to help him prepare for the OWLS, and that he not venture near Hogwarts again until the Dark Lord had been defeated.

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