94 Diagon Alley

Aunt Muriel raised her cane and breathed out of her nose, "I look younger than him now—the little guy kidnapped from his own door."

"Now we know one thing." Fred gave George an elbow. "Muriel is older than old Ollivander."

"Probably not too big." George nodded with a smile.

Bill took off his cloak and greeted everyone. Only then did Gwen learn that Harry had been in the Shell Cottage for a few days, and that he and Dobby had rescued Ollivander—and Luna, who had helped a lot in the dungeon.

"How can I repay them." Gwen said, wiping his nose with George's little handkerchief, crying for the second time until hiccups, "They saved my only family."

"Looks like I'm not the only family now," said the weak Ollivander, staring at the pair of rings on Gwen and George's hands.

"Oh," Gwen laughed, "you missed a few things, but not too much—George insisted on waiting for you to come back before the wedding."

"Of course." Garrick patted Gwen's hand, "I do have to take a while and practice dancing."

"Now we know Harry, Ron and Hermione are safe," said George.

"And they obviously have some secret." Fred pointed out the truth.

"I almost forgot." Ollivander patted his head and took out a frayed velvet case. "Beautiful Mrs Weasley asked me to give it back to Muriel."

"Finally something good happened." The old lady was a little more excited, "I thought they were embezzled."

Bill gave an ugly smile, turned his head and grimaced at the twins.

"I have to go back." Bill put on his cloak. "They're all with me, so I'd better not be away for too long."

After saying goodbye to the Weasleys' eldest son, Gwen helps Garrick get a small, clean room - for which she promises to get Aunt Muriel the Hog's Head Bar Long kept a good wine to thank her for her kindness.

"I don't sleep well every night." Gwen sat next to Garrick. "Although Dumbledore promised you were safe, I'm still worried."

Old Ollivander hugged her little granddaughter, "The dungeon is not a good place to live, but Mrs. Malfoy did try to make my life better. Blankets, potions—but she couldn't. Too obvious. I mean, the Malfoys are pretty much on the edge of a knife."

"Who can blame this?" Gwen said quickly, thinking that they had completed the "contract" with Dumbledore after all, "I shouldn't have said that, they also did something good ."

"You can't blame them." Garrick shuddered as he said, "The mysterious man... is really scary."

"It's all right now," Gwen said reassuringly. "You just need to take care of it here. Mrs. Weasley's pie is delicious."

"Actually, I still have one more thing to do." Ollivander looked at the small skylight above the room, and a hippogriff that didn't know when it flew from A sharp claw stretched out from the roof, and a red, golden feather was tied to it.

"What's this?" Gwen climbed into the chair, poked his head through the skylight, and untied the feather. Buckbeak shook his claws, circled in the air a few times, and flew away.

Gwen handed the feather to Garrick, "Phoenix's tail feather? Fox's? Is there a third core?"

"Fourth, Gwen." Garrick admired the beautiful tail feathers cherishly, "There was one before Harry Potter and You-Know-Who-but it would be better to be soon replaced by the wand."

"Better than the wand you make?" Gwen was a little surprised, "Garrick, I've been born eighteen years and I've never seen you so humble."

"Yeah...yeah..." wand expert Ollivander said perfunctorily, stroking the tail feather again and again as if fascinated. "Gwen, next time you come, bring me a branch from Diagon Alley. The best rowan branch."

"Rowan?" Gwen touched his nose, thinking about which wizard needed the wand.

"Rowan, need a branch that's old enough." Ollivander, immersed in his own world, chanted, "In my experience, using this wand to perform It is indestructible by any defensive spell you can put on it. Rowan wands are usually not owned by dark wizards, and indeed none of the rowan wand buyers I have sold have gone astray. Rowan is best in the hands of a sane mind and a pure heart Appropriate, but don't despise this wand for its virtues, as it is an extremely competitive opponent in a duel."

"Garyk, wake up." Gwen waved his hand in front of him, "You're still ill."

"Hmm." Ollivander opened his silver-white eyes, "I remember, in the dark compartment of the studio, do you remember? All my good things are hidden there."

"I'll bring it as soon as possible, but at least two or three days," Gwen said. "But you have to swear you can't stay up all night making wands."

"Hurry up, hurry up." Garrick said, "We must hurry up and give it to him."

Who the **** lost his wand. Gwen wrinkled her nose and couldn't help complaining.

The Gringotts Robber and the Headmaster's Arrangement

Harry became Teddy Remus Lupin's godfather.

The news from Lupin seemed to make them both forget themselves and temporarily liberate themselves from their trapped state: the news of the birth of new life is exciting. Only the goblin, who seemed indifferent to the sudden festive mood, slipped back into the bedroom where he now lived alone. Harry thought he was the only one who noticed, but suddenly found Bill's eyes on the goblin up the stairs.

"Godfather, Harry!" Bill said as they helped clear the table and walked into the kitchen together. "What an honor! Congrats!"

Harry put down the empty glass he was holding, and Bill closed the door behind him, separating the others who were still talking loudly. Even though Lupin had left, they continued to celebrate.

"Harry, I actually want to talk to you alone. There are so many people in the cabin, it's not easy to find such an opportunity."

Bill hesitated. "Harry, you and Griphook are planning something."

This is a statement, not a question, and Harry doesn't have to deny it. He just looked at Bill and waited for the following.

"I know goblins," Bill said. "I've been working for Gringotts since I left Hogwarts. If there's any friendship between wizards and goblins, I have goblin friends— Or at least, a goblin that I know and like." Bill hesitated again, "Harry, what do you want from Griphook, and what do you promise to give back?"

"I can't tell you that," Harry said. "I'm sorry, Bill."

The kitchen door opened, and Fleur was coming in with more empty wine glasses.

"Wait a minute," Bill told her, "just a moment."

She backed out and he closed the door again.

"Then I have to say," Bill continued, "if you make any agreement with Griphook. Especially if that agreement involves treasure, you have to be extra careful. Ownership in the goblin concept. , remuneration and compensation are different from those of humans.”

Harry felt uneasy, like a small snake churning inside him.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"We're talking about another creature," Bill said. "Wizards and goblins have had conflicting interactions over the centuries—you can learn that from the history of magic. At fault, I would never say wizards are innocent. However, some goblins think—and perhaps it's easier for Gringotts goblins to think that wizards can't be trusted when it comes to gold and treasure, and wizards don't respect goblins' ownership."

“I respect—” Harry said, but Bill shook his head.

"You don't understand, Harry, nobody understands unless you've lived with goblins. For goblins, the rightful owner of anything is its maker, not the Buyers. Anything a goblin makes is rightfully owned by the goblins."

"But if you bought it—"

" - the goblins would think it was rented by the payer. The hardest thing for them to accept is that goblin-made things are passed from wizard to wizard. When the headgear comes under Griphook's eyelids, you See the look on its face. It's dissatisfied. I'm sure Griphook, like the extremists of its kind, thinks that when the original purchaser dies, the thing should be returned to the goblin. They think we are so accustomed to possessing what goblins make Stuff, passed from wizard to wizard without paying any more, is no better than stealing."

Harry now has an ominous feeling that he suspects Bill has guessed more.

"What I'm saying," Bill put his hand on the kitchen door, "is that you have to be very careful when you make promises to goblins, Harry. Breaking your word with a goblin is better than breaking into the past. Lingge is even more dangerous."

"Okay," said Harry, and Bill opened the door. "Okay. Thanks. I'll take it to heart."

Following Bill back to the group, Harry suddenly had a strange idea, no doubt caused by drinking. He felt that for Ted Lupin Jr., he was on the verge of becoming a reckless godfather like Sirius Black.

While Harry will miss Bill, Fleur, Luna, and Dean, not to mention the comforts of home he has enjoyed these weeks, he still looks forward to escaping the confines of the Shell Cottage. He was tired of always making sure he and Ron and Hermione couldn't be heard when he was talking, tired of locking themselves in small dark bedrooms. Especially when he wanted to get rid of the Grip.