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I'm sure the Ministry will be all over this in testing and verifying the potion. As you can see from the ingredients, it is quite expensive. House Black has set up a fund to supply the potion free to all werewolves. There is a limit to how much can be brewed at any one time, though, due to the extreme rarity of some of the ingredients. As a result, we will give the potions to those bitten within the last year and children under the age of 11 first, in age order from the youngest. I calculate it will take about ten years to cure everyone in the English Isles unless the Ministry gets fully behind it.

"Naturally, there will still be a need for everyone to learn Homorphus Reparifarge, as there will still be a possibility of running into a wild or non-English werewolf for quite a few years." Rita nodded in understanding as her quill practically flew across her parchment as she made notes.

It was a most satisfying way to end the summer, Gilderoy thought.

Harry drifted slowly on his broom in the Accursed Mountains of Albania. Today he was wearing his sky-blue set of robes. While they made him stand out on the ground, in the air they made him that much more difficult to see. Combined with a disillusionment charm he was well neigh invisible.

Spring had arrived and for the last four weeks he had scoured the countryside for likely places Voldewhore might be hiding. Mounds of snow were still in the shadows, which helped reduce the areas he had to check. He knew from his history that the Nagini was already active and thus not still hibernating in a tunnel in the ground deep below the snow.

This particular valley was the last in a series of four he had searched so far this week, the last in April.

The locals, contrary to the reports he had heard from almost everyone, were quite friendly as long as you didn't violate any of their hospitality rules. For a foreigner it was simple to abide by those rules. They boiled down to one simple axiom — don't insult your host!

He had managed to build up a little good will in each village he visited by healing ailments that the local Healers found too difficult. His stock of potions had been steadily dwindling as a result — it was amazing the quantity of Skele-grow he had dispensed! Putting his magic into the cure helped its efficacy for the normally magic-less. To the Muggles, among whom were a rare number of Squibs, he just passed off the potions as the latest in healing miracles from the more modern industrial countries. Adding a mild confundus insured that they would not think to mention this miracle cure to any outsider.

Based on what little he could understand from his halting conversations in the taverns, this particular valley seemed to have a pale of evil in it. Bad things happened to people who visited it. There were even rumours of a woman with child mysteriously vanishing in the dead of night just a night or two ago.

It was tedious work, doing this, they both had decided. It was surprisingly taxing slowly drifting through the countryside, quartering back and forth, disillusioned so the Muggles didn't see him, and trying to sense the evil that he knew was Voldewhore.

In his magically expanded pockets were the unbreakable jar and other implements and potions he intended to use to capture the blighter when he finally found him.

At least during the winter months he had been able to keep Gilderoy busy with the book tour and signings. Preliminary reports indicated that Burrowing with a Basilisk had easily surpassed the sales of Magical Me. On the one hand, Gilderoy found that disappointing that the previous book had done so poorly by comparison. On the other, he was overjoyed at the increased sales and fans. And, in spite of the winter weather, the signings always had a line of fans out the door and down the street. Diagon Alley and Hogesmeade weren't the only places he had visited, there were the magical bookstores in Ireland, France, Germany, Spain, Italy, Portugal, Norway, Sweden, Denmark, Finland, Poland — not to mention the colonies, Canada, the US, Australia, South Africa, and India. Harry had never travelled outside the U.K. ever before, and it was quite an eye-opening experience.

He usually left each signing event with a wad of floo-call addresses in hand for an evening of entertainment, if he so chose. Sometimes it wasn't even a note but a room key to a local apartment or room at a tavern. And his supply Witch's knickers — an interesting replacement for a personal introduction card — took up a small trunk all by themselves. Perhaps he should open up a knickers shop?

Suffice to say, Gilderoy did not want for female companionship when he was interested. And that happened a lot more frequently than Harry was comfortable with admitting. That had lasted almost until March, which he spent recovering in Grimmauld Place and working on Restraining a Rat. And finalizing his travel arrangements to Albania.

Before Burrowing with a Basilisk, came out, though, Harry had been doing a bit of Death Eater clean-up, with limited, very limited, help from Gringotts.

"Ah, Ragnurk, my friend," Gilderoy had called out as he entered the now plush office the day after The Hogwarts' Express left King's Cross Station last September 1st. He was their number one client, by a huge margin. The Goblins knew how to play to the typical Wizard's vanity and they assumed from Gilderoy's reputation that he was exceedingly vain. And they spared no apparent expense in using that vanity to their advantage.

"I would like to buy up the debt owed by the following Wizards, if at all possible," he had said as he sat down. He had handed the list he had made to the Goblin. "They are in order of importance to me."

The Goblin perused the list, frowning.

"I then want to call the debt, immediately. In full." He had paused and then added, "My goal is to ruin them financially. If you know of a better way, please advise me."

The goblin studied the list. "This will take research. I will call you," he had said, finally.

Harry had left and Gilderoy had worked on Restraining a Rat.

Three days later, he received an owl from Ragnurk. He had headed straight over.

"Antonin Dolohov, Herbert Mulciber, Augustus Rookwood, Caspur Travers, and Septimus Blishwick are all in Azkaban and their fortunes are somewhat vulnerable," said the Goblin. "Alecto and Amycus Carrow, Phineas Yaxley, Charis Avery, Edward Nott, Ted Jugson, Lycoris, Scabior, Selwyn, Crabbe, and Goyle are all in reasonable shape financially. Their biggest debtor was Malfoy, and you already settled those. Calling in their remaining debts would be an inconvenience at best, harming some while strengthening the others for a net gain for your plans of zed. Severus Snape has no outstanding debts."

"It would take time, a year or more, to manoeuvre the five Azkaban prisoners' estates into vulnerable positions where you could reduce them to paupers, but only if their friends didn't help them. All but Dolohov have Gringotts managing the House finances, so it is likely that the remaining family, cousins, would seek assistance from their richer friends so they would have something to inherit when their relative dies."

Harry sat thinking. Plan B, he had decided, was the only workable solution in the short term. "Keep a watch on their finances for me. Should any of them become vulnerable, strike against them as hard as you can. Even reducing just a few would help in the long term." He sighed. "In the meantime, can you provide me with the floo addresses for all the people on the list?"

"You may purchase the floo addresses from the Ministry for fifty galleons each."

"And the passwords?"

"Are unavailable."

"Purchase the floo addresses for me."

The Goblin made a note.

'Also, can you provide me with the locations of all their properties?"

"Those that are not set to unplottable."

"Do it."

Harry spent several days working on how to get access to the estates. If he could get to the estate, he could get the vault key. And the vault key would let him bankrupt the Death Eater family. The Goblins would simply tell the families they should have taken care that the key was safe.

Dolohov had no relatives, so that was the one to start with.

Gringotts managed his estate in his absence. Their investments of the small amount of galleons he had barely returned enough profit to maintain Manor and other buildings, but it was sufficient profit. The Goblins' management contracts with the Wizards prevented them from deliberately and knowingly making bad investments, so Gilderoy couldn't use that to his advantage.

Then he remembered some of the techniques used by the Muggles in the future War. With the Goblins' assistance, Harry purchased a petrol station chain behind several "blind" corporations as an investment. With that as a supply and a cover, one night in mid-September he and Dobby had transported three thousand gallons of the liquid two thousand feet over the Dolohov Manor protective enchantments and north of the building. It had been shrunk to a six-foot sphere and kept at near freezing to prevent it from simply evaporating when released.

Then they dropped it, simultaneously finiting the sphere and the highly compressed balls of air scattered through it. The rapidly expanding air pockets sprayed the volatile substance over a wide area, intermixing the liquid thoroughly with the air both inside and outside the mass and creating a fine mist of petrol as it fell.

The creator of the Manor's protective enchantments had incorrectly assumed that the only liquids that freely fell from the sky like a rain were various forms of water and thus liquid from the sky did not need guarding against — after all, petrol didn't exist three hundred years ago when the enchantment designer lived. Any liquids other than rain, ice, or snow he knew of, such a Greek Fire, that might fall from above had to be encased in a shell, either physically or magically, for the trebuchet or Wizard to manipulate — and those he had guarded against. Being a liquid and non-magical, the protective enchantments on the manor allowed the mass to pass without hindrance.

The mist drifted down as the wind blew it over the estate, encompassing the house and much of the grounds around it.

Dobby, standing beside Harry, appeared to flicker in place as he popped to above the protective enchantments, and falling mist, hit the mist with a flame, and then reappeared beside Harry.

Even a mile away, Harry could feel the ground shake a moment later, followed by the shockwave of the explosion. A minute later, the heatwave from the blast, much cooler but still uncomfortably hot after traveling that distance, swept over them. Dobby stood beside him, mouth open in shock.

The mushroom cloud of smoke and burning debris from the building shot high up into the sky, far more impressive and scary than the morsmordre cast by the Death Eaters.

"It's called a fuel-air bomb, and is devastatingly effective," Harry said, "as you can see. It is second only to nuclear bombs in destructive power." They watched as the mushroom-shaped cloud climbed higher into the sky, flames bursting from within the dark mass. "The Muggles will say it was a gas-leak explosion — has to be because that's the only thing that causes such a wide-spread flaming disaster. The Ministry will think it's some kind of Dark ritual gone wrong. And with the Dark Artefacts in the ruins contaminating the evidence, what other conclusion could they make? Especially without the presence of any other magic in the remains of the explosion."

The explosion completely flattened the manor. The spells reinforcing the building simply were not up to the task of dealing with the equivalent of a thousand simultaneous superpowered reductos. The pressure wave created tore the Manor walls and insides to shreds, as well as sucking all the oxygen out of the house and crushing any underground rooms or dungeons. The magical blow back from the house protective enchantments overloading obliterated the Stone controlling them, blowing flaming pieces of the manor across a wide area. And when the Enchantment Control Stone failed, the remaining property enchantments collapsed, adding their energy to the blast consuming the building.

Harry apparated to the edge of the former protective enchantments and looked across the burning lawn and roaring fire that was the Manor. He raised his wand. "Accio Dolohov Vault Key." Moments later, a golden key came flying from destruction. Harry let the glowing hot key fall to the ground before dosing it with water. Being Goblin made, it was indestructible. He dropped the key into his pocket and left for home. Because Gringotts never closed, he would have Dobby order the Goblins to sweep the vault for Goblin-made items and destroy any Dark Artefacts tonight. Once that was complete, he would have Dobby, Kreacher, and Bipsy transfer the remaining contents to one of House Black's empty properties. Then he would place the key in his special Vault Key box in the Study, labelled, of course. Dobby would periodically check the vault for any deposits from business investments Dolohov made before being sent to Azkaban — no reason to let it accumulate, now was there?

Later, he would have Kreacher and Dobby sell off the unwanted furniture, clothing, jewellery, and books previously stored in Dolohov's vault to second-hand shops across England and the continent. Eventually, he would transfer the remaining galleons to The Gilderoy Lockhart Investment Fund. The items he kept would go into the Lockhart Vault.

Through the rest of September and early October, he repeated the attack on the Mulciber, Rookwood, Travers, Blishwick, and another half dozen Pure-blood bigots' Manors — he didn't want to do too much all at once and leave an obvious trace to follow back to him. All except one of their keys joined Dolohov's in Gilderoy's Vault Key box for regular checks.