Chapter 79:
THE PLAN

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.•°★ WAKING up with a groan, Cassiopeia felt hands on her waist. She looked at the hand, and saw Harry's sleeping peacefully, his glasses on the bedside table. They were really pushed against each other in this small bed, and she turned gently to face him. She admired his face for a moment, and she smiled to herself. His messy hair, his peaceful face...she could stare at him for ages.

This almost reminded her of the time they slept next to each other in their third year in the Great Hall after students were taken out of their Common Rooms because Sirius Black was in the castle. She chuckled softly, seeing how Harry's face changed. The sun was shining in the bedroom, so she could see his face properly.

Cassiopeia lets out a soft sigh, and she remembered this was the boy she was fighting to keep safe. The boy she loves, and one she would protect. Her eyes fluttered close, and she nuzzled her face on his chest after she pulled the blanket closer to them.

The next few days consisted of Cassiopeia, Harry, Ron and Hermione speaking about the plan to sneak in Gringotts. Harry has mentioned it to Griphook, who brushed the idea away.

Until one afternoon, Cassiopeia collected a few seashells for Luna, Harry called her.

"Cass," he called, she looked up as she handed the handful of shells to Luna. "C'mere."

She followed, and they reached to the small basement where they saw Griphook.

"I have reached my decision, Harry Potter," said the goblin, who was sitting cross-legged in a low chair, drumming its arms with his spindly fingers. "Though the goblins of Gringotts will consider it base treachery, I have decided to help you—”

"That's great!" said Harry, relief surging through him, Cassiopeia stood behind him, Hermione and Ron a bit further from Cassiopeia. “Grip- hook, thank you, we're really—"

-in return," said the goblin firmly, "for payment."

Slightly taken aback, Harry hesitated, Cassiopeia pursed her lips. She knew that it was coming.

“How much do you want? We've got gold.” said Cassiopeia, and she tilted her head.

"Not gold," said Griphook. "I have gold."
His black eyes glittered; there were no whites to his eyes. "I want the sword. The sword of Godric Gryffindor."

Harry's spirits plummeted. "You can't have that,” he said. "I'm sorry.”

"Then," said the goblin softly, "we have a problem."

"We can give you something else," said Ron eagerly. "I'll bet the Lestranges have got loads of stuff, you can take your pick once we get into the vault."

He had said the wrong thing. Griphook flushed angrily. "I am not a thief, boy! I am not trying to procure treasures to which I have no right!"

"The sword's ours-" said Harry.

"It is not," said the goblin.

"We're Gryffindors, and it was Godric Gryffindor's—” Harry frowned, Cassiopeia crossed her arms.

"And before it was Gryffindor's, whose was it?" demanded the goblin, sitting up straight.

"No one's," said Ron. “It was made for him, wasn't it?”

"No!" cried the goblin, bristling with anger as he pointed a long finger at Ron. "Wizarding arrogance again! That sword was Ragnuk the First's, taken from him by Godric Gryffindor! It is
a lost treasure, a masterpiece of goblinwork! It belongs with the goblins. The sword is the price of my hire, take it or leave it!"

"You can have anything from my vault," said Cassiopeia, as she looked at Griphook. "Or the Lestrange's. I'm technically family, I give permission."

"You are disowned," said Griphook, which took Cassiopeia aback, she took a step forward but Harry grabbed her arm.

Griphook glared at them. Harry glanced at the others before he sent Cassiopeia a look, then said, "We need to discuss this, Griphook, if that's all right. Could you give us a few minutes?"

The goblin nodded, looking sour.
Downstairs in the empty sitting room, Harry walked to the fireplace, brow furrowed, trying to think what to do. Cassiopeia followed behind him.

Behind her, Ron said, "He's having a laugh. We can't let him have that sword."

"It is true?" Harry asked Hermione. "Was the sword stolen by Gryffindor?"

"I don't know," she said hopelessly. "Wizarding history often skates over what the wizards have done to other magical races, but there's no account that I know of that says Gryffindor stole the sword."

"Yes," replied Cassiopeia, as she looked at Harry, Hermione frowned. "I've read about it, in the library at the Manor." Harry frowned.

"It'll be one of those goblin stories," said Ron, “about how the wizards are always trying to get one over on them. I suppose we should think ourselves lucky he hasn't asked for one of our wands."

"Goblins have got good reason to dislike wizards, Ron.” said Hermione. "They've been treated brutally in the past.”

"Goblins aren't exactly fluffy little bunnies, though, are they?” said Ron, Cassiopeia nodded in agreement. "They've killed plenty of us. They've fought dirty too."

"But arguing with Griphook about whose race is most under- handed and violent isn't going to make him more likely to help us, is it?" Hermione questioned.

There was a pause while they tried to think of a way around the problem. Cassiopeia looked out of the window at Dobby's grave. Luna was arranging sea lavender in a jam jar beside the headstone.

"Okay," said Ron, and Harry turned back to face him, "how's this? We tell Griphook we need the sword until we get inside the vault and then he can have it. There's a fake in these, isn't there? We switch them, and give him the fake."

"He'd know the difference better than we would!" said Hermione. "He's the only one who realized there had been a swap!"

“Yeah, but we could scarper before he realizes—" He quailed beneath the look Hermione was giving him.

"That," she said quietly, "is despicable. Ask for his help, then double-cross him? And you wonder why goblins don't like wizards, Ron?"

Ron's ears had turned red.
"All right, all right! It was the only thing I could think of! What's your solution, then?"

"We could kill him," said Cassiopeia, casually as she crossed her arms. Harry, Ron and Hermione stared at her, and she noticed their looks. "Or not."

"Kill him?" Hermione and Ron questioned, and she shrugged, holding her hands up in defense.

"Joking! I'm joking," she said, as she sat down next to Hermione on the couch. She remembered she still doesn't have that right to make such jokes yet, but it slipped out. It had always been an option whilst she was in the manor.

"We need to offer him something else, something just as valuable." Hermione said.

"Brilliant, I'll go and get one of our ancient goblin-made swords and you can gift wrap it." Ron retorted, and Cassiopeia rolled her eyes.

Silence fell between them again. Harry was sure that the goblin would accept nothing but the sword, even if they had something as valuable to offer him. Yet the sword was their one, indispensable weapon against the Horcruxes. And one of which Cassiopeia had hid with Snape in order for Harry to destroy the damn Horcruxes.

Harry closed his eyes for a moment or two and listened to the rush of the sea. The idea that Gryffindor might have stolen the sword was unpleasant to him: He had always been proud to be a Gryffindor; Gryffindor had been the champion of Muggle-borns.

"Maybe he's lying," Harry said, opening his eyes again. "Griphook. Maybe Gryffindor didn't take the sword. How do we know the goblin version of history's right?"

"It's true, Harry," said Cassiopeia, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. "I've read about it. Obviously not in Hogwarts a History but an old book."

"Does it make a difference?" asked Hermione.

"Changes how I feel about it," said Harry. He took a deep breath. "We'll tell him he can have the sword after he's helped us get into that vault-but we'll be careful to avoid telling him exactly when he can have it."

"That's bloody reckless, Harry," said Cassiopeia. "I know those damn Goblins, they don't trust us wizards." A grin spread slowly across Ron's face. Hermione, however, looked alarmed.

“He can have it,” Harry went on, “after we've used it on all of the Horcruxes. I'll make sure he gets it then. I'll keep my word."

"But that could be years!" said Hermione.

“I know that, but he needn't. I won't be lying... really."  Harry met her eyes with a mixture of defiance and shame.

"What choice do we have?" Cassiopeia asked Harry, and he sighed.

"I don't like it," said Hermione.

"Nor do I, much," Harry admitted.

"Well, I think it's genius," said Ron, standing up again. Cassiopeia nodding along with Ron, who sent her a look, but she didn't question it.  "Let's go and tell him."

Back in the smallest bedroom, Harry made the offer, careful to phrase it so as not to give any definite time for the handover of the sword. Hermione frowned at the floor while he was speaking. Cassiopeia played with the hem of her sweater, and she placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder as he spoke. However, Griphook had eyes for nobody but Harry.

"I have your word, Harry Potter, that you will give me the sword of Gryffindor if I help you?" He asked, his voice low.

"Yes," said Harry.

"Then shake," said the goblin, holding out his hand.

Harry took it and shook. He wondered whether those black eyes saw any misgivings in his own. Then Griphook relinquished him, clapped his hands together, and said, "So. We begin!"

They settled to work in the smallest bedroom, which was kept, according to Griphook's preference, in semidarkness.

"I have visited the Lestranges' vault only once," Griphook told them, "on the occasion I was told to place inside it the false sword. It is one of the most ancient chambers. The oldest Wizarding families store their treasures at the deepest level, where the vaults are largest and best protected...."

They remained shut in the cupboardlike room for hours at a time. Slowly the days stretched into weeks. There was problem after problem to overcome, not least of which was that their store of Polyjuice Potion was greatly depleted.

"There's really only enough left for one of us," said Hermione, tilting the thick mudlike potion against the lamplight.

"That'll be enough," said Harry, who was examining Griphook's hand-drawn map of the deepest passageways.

"I can be Bellatrix, Hermione," said Cassiopeia as she handed Harry a pencil for him to scribble on the parchment. "I know her the most."

Hermione frowned, and she swallowed hard, unsure. "But you can show your face...y-you're..." Cassiopeia could tell she was hesitant to call her a death eater.

Cassiopeia shook her head, "It must have spread now," she said, watching as Harry wrote something on the side of the parchment. "That I betrayed the Dark Lord."

The other inhabitants of Shell Cottage could hardly fail to notice that something was going on now that Cassiopeia, Harry, Ron and Hermione only emerged for mealtimes. Nobody asked questions, although Harry often felt Bill's eyes on the three of them at the table, thoughtful, concerned.

The longer they spent together, the more Harry realized that he did not much like the goblin. Griphook was unexpectedly blood-thirsty. Cassiopeia knew that the most, she had experienced when she was younger a dealing with a goblin, watching her father looking down at the creatures.

She walked outside in the quiet evening, the sounds of the waves crashing. She moved away the wilted flowers from Dobby's grave, and she replaced them with new ones that she had conjured with a charm. She bit her lip, and Dobby's headstone seemed to go white because of the salty air.

She heard footsteps behind her, and she gripped her wand. Cassiopeia sighed, and it was just Harry.

"Hey," said Cassiopeia, smiling softly. Harry looked at her, and then at Dobby's grave.

"You should get inside," he said, "You've been out here for hours."

Cassiopeia lets out a breath, as she picked the grass near her foot. Harry sat down next to her.

"We've been planning for weeks now," she said, sighing. "Nice to have a different...environment than that small bedroom."

Harry chuckled, and he looked at her. The sun was beginning to set, and he looked at Cassiopeia for a moment before he tore his eyes away from her.

"At least Ron and Hermione are starting to trust you again," said Harry, Cassiopeia looked at him and she scoffed.

"Yeah," she replied. "Not really. I can still hear their whispers."

Harry pursed his lips, and he watched her pick some of the grass. "But I trust you."

"After what I've done," she looked at him, "Really?" Her eyes looked bored, as if not believing what Harry is saying.

"Yes, really," he said. "I've...noticed your eyes underneath the mask. You've always been there...and the doe...the Patronus..."

Cassiopeia froze for a second, and she swallowed hard. She couldn't tell Harry yet about her working with Snape, Voldemort could get inside his head and Snape would be in deep trouble.

"At the cafe," he finished, Cassiopeia lets out a relieved sigh. "You were there."

"I just warned you," she said, as she threw a handful of crash into the air.

"You still helped," he justified. Cassiopeia shook her head, she thinks otherwise obviously. She hadn't been much help...delaying his chances of getting caught, that is what she had done, but there will be a time.

Cassiopeia shook her head again, pushing that thought away. She saw it after all, the battle of Hogwarts, Harry...being shot by the killing curse.

"Do you think all my visions will become real?" She asked, as she looked at him.

"So far, they have," said Harry, examining her face.

"I saw you die," she said, her voice barely above whisper as she looked away. Harry didn't seem to have caught what she said, the sound of the waves crashing into the shore was loud.

"Do you wanna go inside?" He asked, standing up and brushing his pants from the dirt. Cassiopeia looked at him for a moment. "We need energy before tomorrow morning."

"Sure," said Cassiopeia, softly.