Dawn Rivera

Shell Cottage

"I have reached my decision, Harry Potter," says the goblin, who is sitting cross-legged in a low chair, drumming its arms with his soundly fingers. "Though the goblin's of Gringotts will consider it base treachery, I have decided to help you - "

"That's great!" says Danny, looking relieved. "Griphook, thank you, we're really - "

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

Slightly taken aback, Harry and Danny hesitate.

"How much do you want?" Harry says. "I've got gold."

"Not gold," says Griphook. "I have gold."

His black eyes glitter; there are no whites to his eyes.

"I want the sword. The sword of Godric Gryffindor."

My spirits plummet.

"You can't have that," Danny says. "I'm sorry."

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

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

He has said the wrong thing. Griphook flushes angrily.

"I am not a thief, boy! I am not trying to procure treasures to which I have no right!"

"The sword's ours - "

"It is not," says the goblin.

"We're Gryffindors, and it was Godric Gryffindor's - "

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

"No one's," says Ron, "it was made for him, wasn't it?"

"No!" cries the goblin, bristling with anger as he points 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!"

Griphook glares at us. Harry glances at the rest if us, then says, "We need to discuss this, Griphoom, if that's all right. Could you give us a few minutes?"

The goblin nods, looking sour.

Downstairs in the empty sitting room, Harry and Danny walk to the fireplace, brows furrowed. Behind them, Ron says, "He's having a laugh. We can't let him have that sword."

"Is it true?" Danny asks Hermione and I. "Was the sword stolen by Gryffindor?"

"I don't know," Hermione says 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."

"It'll be one of those goblin stories," says Ron, "about how 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," I say. "They've been treated brutally in the past."

"Goblins aren't exactly fluffy little bunnies, though, are they?" says Ron. "They've killed plenty of us. "They've fought dirty, too."

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

There is a pause while we try to think of a way round the problem. Harry and Danny look out of the window at Dobby's grave. Luna is arranging sea lavender in a jam jar beside the headstone.