The Potter Twins and the Deathly Hallows {7}

31. Gringotts

"When destiny calls you, you must be strong. I may not be with you, but you've got to hold on." - You'll Be In My Heart, Phil Collins

Our plans are made, our preparations complete; in the smallest bedroom two strands of hair lay curled in a phial upon the mantelpiece; a thick, black strand plucked from the sweater Hermione was wearing at Malfoy Manor, and a fine blond strand, stolen from Draco in our final goodbye. 

"And you'll be using their actual wands," says Harry, "so I reckon you'll be pretty convincing."

Riley takes the hawthorne wand from me with a grateful nod, as if I have just handed him something precious and irreplaceable, while Hermione looks frightened that the walnut wand might sting or bite her. 

"I hate this thing," she says in a low voice. "I really hate it. It feels all wrong, it doesn't work properly for me ... it's like a bit of her."

I can't not help but remember how Hermione dismissed our loathing of the blackthorn wand, insisting that we were imagining things when it did not work as well as our own, telling us to practise. I choose not to repeat her own advice back to her; the eve of our attempted assault on Gringotts feels like the wrong moment to antagonise her. 

"It'll probably help you get in character, though," says Ron. "Think what that wand's done!"

"But that's my point!' says Hermione. "This is the wand that tortured Neville's mum and dad, and who knows how many other people? This is the wand that killed Taylor!"

I hadn't thought of this: I look down at the wand and I'm overwhelmed by a burtal urge to snap it, to slice it in half with Gryffindor's sword, which is propped against the wall beside us. "I miss my wand," Hermione says miserably. "I wish Mr Ollivander could have made me another one too."

Ollivander had sent Luna and Riley new wands this morning, to thank them for their support in that cellar. Dean, who lost his wand to the Snatchers, seems rather gloomy about it. 

Riley returns the hawthorne wand which once belonged to Draco, and I examine it carefully. I've been surprised, but pleased, to discover that it works for me at least as well as Hermione's had done. Remembering what Ollivander told us about the secret workings of wands, I think I know what Hermione's problem is: she didn't win the walnut wand's allegiance by taking it personally from Bellatrix. There's also a small part of me which believes Draco's wand recognizes me somehow, like it knows it's okay to trust me, but I don't dare voice this theory, lest I provoke a lecture about wandlore from Hermione and irritability in Harry and Ron. We're yet to have a conversation about our argument regarding Draco, and yet we all seem to have mutually agreed to put it behind us. The moment he left, in fact, the air seemed to have cleared, but I can sense tension in Harry, which I'm certain will continue to resurface when Riley transforms into Draco. 

The door of the bedroom opens and Griphook enters. I reach instinctively for the hilt of the sword and draw it close to me, but I regret this action at once: I can tell that the goblin has noticed. Seeking to gloss over the sticky moment, Harry quickly says, "We've just been checking the last-minute stuff, Griphook. We decided not to tell the others we're leaving at all, less of a chance they'll try and stop us this way."

This has been a point of great contention between us. Everyone knows we're planning something, that much is obvious, but there's no doubt that they'll try and stop us if they know when we're leaving -- Dad and Sirius particularly. Not to mention, Hermione and Riley will need to transform into Bellatrix and Draco before we leave which is sure to arouse suspicion. But still, leaving without sayning goodbye properly leaves a sour taste in my mouth.