"Well, how do I look?" Hermione as Bellatrix asked

"Hideous." Ron said.

"Oh dear, I missed a spot, didn't I? Hold still..." Hermione poises her wand tip over the bit of ginger pushing through the brown of Ron's hair.

"Couldn't do anything about that bit in the back that's always flipping up, could you? Dead annoying –" Hermione casts Bellatrix's malevolent gaze upon him.

"Never mind. I'm good." Ron said peering wearily at her "That is you in there, isn't it?"

Y/n chuckled at Ron's behavior. Harry eyes Griphook, who is studying the sword.

"You can give that to Hermione to hold, all right, Griphook?" Harry said. Hermione extends the beaded bag. Griphook eyes Harry and then, grudgingly, lets the sword drop within.

Y/n, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Griphook stand in a tight circle. As Griphook's hand joins the others -- WHOOSH! -- they vanish.

As they reappear, Y/n, Harry, Ron and Griphook fall back into the shadows and Hermione, as Bellatrix, steps to the mouth of the alley to see if the coast is clear. A warlock passes.

"Madam Lestrange." The warlock bowed

"Good morning." Hermione said cheerily. The Warlock eyes her oddly, then continues on. As Hermione retreats back into the alley, Griphook emerges from the shadows, his voice harsh and mocking.

"Good morning? Good morning? You're Bellatrix Lestrange, not some dewy-eyed schoolgirl!" the goblin exclaimed

"Hey. Easy." Ron said.

"She gives us away and we might as well use that sword to slit our own throats. Understand?" Griphook said

"He's right. I was being stupid." Hermione said looking at her feet. Harry pulls the Invisibility Cloak from his coat, tosses it to Ron.

"C'mon. Let's do it." Y/n said

Griphook clamber onto Harry's back.Y/n holding Harry's hand right besid him. As Ron pitches the cloak over them... they vanish.

White. Towering. Hermione and Ron mount the steps, enter.

A vast marble hall. A long counter. Goblins perched on high stools. Wizard guards positioned throughout. As Ron and Hermione enter, wind whistles through the doorway, sends the pages of the goblin's massive ledgers trembling. As the door closes, the room returns to its eerie silence. Hermione glances at Ron. He nods and she steps to the long counter, where an aged goblin scribbles in his ledger.

"Identification." The old goblin said

"I hardly think that will be necessary." Hermione said with attitude. The goblin looked up.

"Madam Lestrange! Dear me! How may I help you today?" the aged goblin said

"I wish to enter my vault." Hermione said

"I see. Very well. Excuse me, won't you?" The goblin slips off his stool, goes to consult with another, even more ancient goblin

"I don't like to be kept waiting." Hermione's tone is harsh, authoritative. She turns to

Ron, raises an eyebrow. He nods, mouths "Well done," then looks away, eyeing the guards stationed about the room. One looks up, meets his gaze.

"Next." Ron turns, sees the Tall Goblin eyeing him.

"He's with me." Hermione said with utter disdain, "As difficult as that may be to imagine. Ron frowns, takes in the scene again. The SCRATCH of goblin quills seems to grow louder. Ron fidgets, eyes the guard again, who is looking at him more closely now. Ron runs a finger under his collar, shifts his eyes to the Aged Goblin who continues to consult with the one known as Bogrod. Bogrod says something and they both glance at Hermione.

"They know!" Griphook hissed. Ron stiffens, turns slightly toward the empty spot to his

left.:

"They know she's an imposter! They've been warned!" Griphook hissed again. Ron looks back, watches the two goblins return to Hermione.

"Madam Lestrange. Would you mind presenting your wand?" Bogrod asked

"And why should I do that?" Hermione asked. Just then, the guard across the room begins to walk toward Ron. Ron's eyes dance. He averts his face,

"Harry, what do we do? Y/n...?" No response. Ron extends his hand as casually as he can, finds only empty space.

"It's the bank's policy. I'm sure you understand, given the current climate –" Bogrod said

"No, I most certainly do not understand –" Sensing Harry's presence, she falters, her own voice emerging through Bellatrix's. Bogrod eyes her intensely.

"I'm afraid I must insist." As the guard closes on Ron, Ron looks about frantically, reaching for his wand when a gust of windfills the Hall, sending the ledgers trembling again. The guard approaching Ron shifts his gaze briefly to the entrance, as do the Aged Goblin and Bogrod. None see Harry's hand slip from the cloak, his wand pointed at Bogrod.

"Imperio." Y/n cast. The door glides shut. The wind dies. Bogrod blinks.

"Very well, Madam Lestrange. If you will follow me." Bogrod said

"But... Bogrod, there have been special instructions regarding the Lestrange vault." The old goblin said

"I'm fully aware of that. I'm also aware the Lestranges are one of our oldest and most respected families." Bogrod answered

"Yes, sir, but our instructions are very specific –"

"Let me be specific with you, Ricbert. I've run this bank for forty-five years, long before

anyone had even heard of a Death Eater. The day may come that they feel they can run this place better than me, but that day has not yet arrived. Am I understood!" The Aged Goblin hesitates, then nods. Bogrod turns to Hermione.

"Madam, if you will, I will escort you myself." He then turned to the guard, " Teffington, see to that door, will you." The guard glances at Ron, then reluctantly heads for the entrance. Ron quickly falls in line behind Hermione as Bogrod leads them out of the Hall.

A cart hurtles through the darkness, ferrying the lot of them – Y/n, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Griphook and Bogrod – down the rickety rails, twisting and turning, sloping ever downward. Harry leans toward Griphook, who commandeers the cart.

"How long before they come after us?" Y/n asked Griphook

"Time will tell." Harry's eyes meet Griphook's in the flickering darkness, then Ron's face appears over Harry's shoulder.

"What's that? Up ahead." Ron points. In the distance, directly over the tracks, something shimmers like a curtain of water.

"I should have known –" Furiously, Griphook starts to throw levers, trying to slow the cart.

"What is that, Griphook?" Harry asked. The wheels screech, throwing off sparks.

"Griphook! What is that!"Harry repeated furiously.He doesn't answer, furiously preoccupied with the cart. Y/n turns to Hermione, hoping she has an explanation,

but she just shakes her head, staring up ahead as Griphook slumps back, powerless, watching in grim resignation as the cart careens wildly down the rail and pierces the shimmering curtain. Instantly, water engulfs them with ferocius power. The seats beneath them collapse, flipping downward and They drop in a cascade of roaring water toward the ground rushing up 30 feet below. Hermione screamssomething, her wand flashing and one by one they splash down unscathed. As the water drains away, they peer upward, watching as, alarms blaring, the cart rattles back the way it came. Harry turns to Hermione as she pockets her wand.

"Well done. Hey." Y/n said, "You look like... you."

Hermione is soaking wet and looks like... Hermione. Ron looks like Ron. Griphook nods to the waterfall.

"The Thief's Downfall. Washes away all enchantments. Can be deadly." Griphook said

"You don't say."Ron said as the cart's alarms grow faint, "Just out of interest... is there any other way out of here?"

"No." Griphook said

Before the quartet can savor this tidbit. What the devil are you all doing down here! They all turn, seeing a soaking Bogrod, cleansed of the Imperius curse, backing away in angry confusion.

"We need him!" Griphook bellowed

"Is this your doing, Griphook? You have no rights here anymore. When you gave up your keys, you – "Y/n, Hermione and Harry raise their wands. Too late.

"Imperio!" Ron cast. Bogrod blinks, resumes his mild demeanor. Y/n, Harry and Hermione turn, see Ron, wand outstretched. Griphook steps past, pushes Bogrod on.

"Well done." Griphook appericiated. The quartet watch the goblins go, exchange a glance. Unnerved. Just then a MOAN is heard, DEEP and unsettling, coming from down the tunnel. Ron cocks his ear in disbelief.

"No. It's not possible..."