Chapter Text
~LAST TIME, ON HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATHLY HALLOWS…~
Big Lego block thing: Still just here as kind of a shitty decoration thing.
Voldemort: I guffaw at you, sir.
Dumbledore’s dead corpse: Well that’s not very nice.
Elder wand: These quick random fade outs are kind of weird. Also stop fondling me.
Voldemort: No.
Elder wand: I NEED AN ADULT.
Voldemort: I AM AN ADULT! *shoots lightning in the air; this is all basically from the end of the last movie, which the vast majority of us had just stopped watching fifteen seconds ago before popping in this one* Huh. That’s…That’s weird. The distinct lack of dramatic awesometastic music makes this feel decidedly less badass. I HAVE SUMMONED THE WB LOGO.
Warner Brothers logo: Very good. Have a cookie.
Lily’s theme: *sung by a Japanese woman named Mai. And it is pretty*
Dementors: We’ve just got rags hanging off our arms now. Hey, remember in the books where our whole design revolved around us wearing cloaks? Us either.
Hogwarts: Still in the movies, bitches!
Snape: Huh, Lily’s Theme seems to play almost every time I’m onscreen. I wonder if that means anything… *camera angle shifts* HOW DID I GET UP HERE.
Students: WE ARE MARCHING. And presumably surrounded by Death Eaters. Which kinda sucks.
Book readers: …Why were all the kids out in the courtyard like that? Pretty sure Care of Magical Creatures is beyond the other courtyard/bridge/direction thing. Or were they just forcing the kids to get some fresh air or something? OR, were the kids coming back from winter break at that point? If so, what, did they just not take anything home with them, was their luggage sent ahead to the castle, WHAT’S GOING ON WHERE AM I HOW THE EVERLIVING FUCK DID THEY MANAGE TO PUT HOGWARTS BACK TOGETHER AFTER THE BATTLE WAS OVER.
Snape: *looks slightly stoned; shakes himself awake* I need to stay out of Dumbledore’s stash.
ShieldEcho: And then Snape fell off. The end.
~The final title card of the franchise fades in, accompanying a crescendo in the music that seems to want us to just start crying now and get it over with in preparation for the rest of the sadness.~
Filmmakers: Hey, remember that time Dobby died? Sigh, good times, good times…
Audience: MERLIN’S AK-47 PLEASE MAKE THE PAIN GO AWAY.
Harry: Still looking at the mirror shard.
Aberforth: I’m watching you.
Harry: …That’s absurdly creepy. Also I think this was meant to be placed right before we leave for Gringotts considering the deleted scene that has me talking with Luna and Ron that appears to take place right after I put this rock on Dobby’s grave.
Ron: Meanwhile, we’re inside and sitting at the table and junk. Hey Hermione, recovered from the torture yet?
Hermione: Evidently, especially given that it could’ve already been the month or whatever since we arrived here. Or something.
Ron: Hey, remember that one time Lupin came over and told us about his newborn son and made Harry godfather?
Hermione: NOPE!
Ron: ME NEITHER! A-HYUCK!
Harry: WHY DO WE NEVER ACTUALLY GET TO SEE ANYTHING AWESOME. THE BABY WOULD’VE GIVEN ME HOPE THAT LIFE STILL GOES ON AND A REASON TO TRY AND MAKE IT OUT OF THIS WAR ALIVE AND SHIT.
Luna: I like how this place is literally covered in shells, it’s quite nice. *plays with wind chime* Thanks for letting us stay here.
Bill: It's actually our aunt’s. Whether we mean Muriel or not is up for debate, though I really can’t see her staying in a cozy little house like this. Check it out, the roof and walls and stuff over here is literally made of glass, this is awesome.
Fleur: I AM COMPLETELY ESSENTIAL TO THIS SCENE. LOOK AT ME, BEING ALL ESSENTIAL LIKE THIS. DAMN I’M AWESOME.
Bill: Oh, and while you lot were gone, the rest of the Order has been slowly picked off one by one, which is why most of the named ones will be here for the final battle and no one’s really died offpage recently except for Gornuk, Dirk Cresswell and Tonks’s dad.
Luna: Awesome. Also wind chimes are well known for their ability to summon Satan.
ShieldEcho: Oooh, I have like three of those!
Harry: *comes over from…whatever he was doing in the doorway* I need to talk to the goblin.
Bill: He has a name, you know! Don’t be rude, I thought you were above all the stupid wizarding prejudices!
Griphook: Nice of the camera to Apparate in like that. Also why has no one healed my cheek, you’d think it’d be an easy fix. Come on, now, who knows what was on that knife, I don’t want this to get infected!
Door: *opens*
Griphook: Oh, thanks for being polite and knocking first, really appreciate it.
Bill: Yeah, you’d think I’d know to be more polite and how to act around a culture I’ve worked for for who knows how long, but you’d be wrong.
Harry: …Ron, you coming in or what?
Ron: Hang on a tic. Bill, bugger off.
Bill: *sniffs* Oh, they grow up so fast! *cries and leaves*
Griphook: My eyes are still closed.
Harry: HEY, HOW Y’ALL DOIN’ TONIGHT?!
Griphook: Well I was asleep. Twat waffle…
Harry: Sorry?
Griphook: Nothing, nothing.
Harry: …So you probably don’t remember, seeing as you were played by a different person at the time and only voice over by Warwick Davis, but—
Griphook: I know that my character showed you to your vault in the first movie, as does every other book reader in the audience. What surprises me is that you, with your tiny human mind, were able to remember such a small detail. Your memory seems to be uncommonly good in this installment.
Hermione: I am now leaning against the bed.
Ron: Nice to know we’re not really needed for this scene.
Griphook: It shouldn’t surprise you to know that you’re famous amongst goblins since you already know that you’re famous even amongst centaurs and house-elves and the like.
Harry: I AM LOOKING OUT THE WINDOW.
Griphook: So…you actually went out of the way to bury the elf, did you?
Harry: Basically, yeah.
Hermione: And now I am standing straight up with no support.
Griphook: *folds fingers together* How did you come by that plot point? *points at Sword of Gryffindor*
Harry: Pulled it out of a hat.
Hermione: And now my arms are crossed.
Harry: Why did Bellatrix freak out and cut your face, thinking it belonged to her when she’s a great dirty Slytherin and probably would never touch such a thing if given the choice?
Griphook: *mockingly* Because she pulled it out of a hat.
Harry: …The sword was put there by Severus Snape who’s been looking out for us this whole time, even thought there’s no real conceivable way that he would’ve found out where we were in this version. Or we could still go with the sword presenting itself to us in a moment of need, but that still doesn’t explain where the doe came from or why Snape knew that that was the moment that he’d have to cast it.
Griphook: …I’m confused.
Harry: As are we.
Griphook: There is a sword in Madam Lestrange’s vault that looks exactly like this one, but it’s made out of rubber for safety reasons. That one leaning up against the wall is the hero sword. It was placed there this past summer, presumably since the Ministry was beginning to be run by Death Eaters and they had gotten hold of Dumbledore’s will for the month they were able to hold onto it or whatever. Because fuck the subplot with Longbottom, Weasley, and Lovegood, no one wants that to be alluded to in any way.
Harry: And no one suspected that it was a prop even just by holding it?
Griphook: Humans are dumbasses, Death Eaters doubly so. Goblins, on the other hand, are the smart, and can tell even from a fair distance what’s real steel and what’s a cheap prop that was made in China.
Hermione: And now my hands are behind my back. Who was the acquaintance?
Ron: …What acquaintance?
Hermione: You know, the dude who put in the fake. Or the sword, whichever.
Griphook: I don’t believe I was talking to you.
Hermione: Just answer the fucking question.
Griphook: I have no interest whatsoever in your opinion.
Ron: Okay, we’re gonna have issues.
Hermione: *rounds on him* I don’t need you to defend me!
Ron: You go beat him up, then! Seriously, we haven’t seen you do that since Malfoy, I say it’s time.
Griphook: Do they ever shut up?
Harry: Nope.
Griphook: Ugh. *rubs forehead* It was a Hogwarts professor, I think I heard some vague split second thing about him being headmaster on the WWN before forgetting about it in favor of more exciting camping montages.
Ron: Shut up, you…Wait, Snape did that?
Hermione: How did you find out, you were asleep when Harry heard that!
Ron: We were camping together for months, Harry probably ranted about it the next day when we were all awake. Still, that doesn’t make much sense for Snape to do that, though, unless he’s actually on our side even though I refuse to believe that despite the fact that the movies are still determined to shove that fact down our throats.
Harry: …The fact that we just found out that Snape was the one who put the fake sword into the vault implies that he might’ve had a hold on the real one. Hmm…
Griphook: There’s some fucked up shit in the vaults at Gringotts. You wizards disgust me time and time again.
Harry: We try. So what’s in Bellatrix’s vault?
Griphook: … *unfolds his fingers and leans back in his chair* …Stuff.
Harry: I WANNA BE INSIDE IT.
Griphook: …Fuck no.
Harry: Could you help a brother out?
Griphook: Fuck no. *folds fingers again*
Harry: I’ll pay ya!
Griphook: Fuck you.
Hermione: My arms are crossed again.
Ron: Would you just stand still?!
Hermione: No.
Harry: Is there anything you do want?
Griphook: …I would like the shiny sword thing.
Harry: … *stares at sword* …We need to use it to destroy the thingy we’re trying to steal, and then you can have it, deal?
Griphook: It might’ve been if you had shown any kind of intelligence whatsoever.
Harry: Bugger.
~Well that could’ve gone better.~
Bill: …So are we just sitting here or are we eating, or…?
Luna: Well I don’t know about you, but I’m getting rather annoyed by all these Prunglins chewing your table to bits.
Bill: …Those are crumbs from the pancakes we just had this morning. I’d forgotten what a messy eater Ron could be.
Luna: You want to stamp them out individually with your thumb, or they’ll take away the spirit of the furniture within hours.
Bill: …I’m beginning to question why my brother helped save you.
Hermione: *whispering* So you think there’s another Horcrux in Bellatrix’s vault?
Bill and Luna: What’s a Horcrux?
Hermione: Oh come on, I was whispering!
Bill: We’re technically in a Weasley household. Privacy is never permitted.
Ron: Shit, it’s been so long I’ve forgotten.
Harry: …How the fuck can nine people squeeze into this tiny house?
Ron: Magic. For the 864,531,514th time.
Hermione: …Can you just pretend you didn’t hear anything while still probably listening closely to every word?
Bill and Luna: But of course.
Hermione: Sweetness.
Harry: Well she was wetting herself with fear when she thought we’d been in there. She kept asking you what else we’d taken, do you remember that, Hermione?
Hermione: Yes thank you, Harry. *wraps her arms around herself, shivering and trying not to sink into a horrific PTSD flashback*
Ron: Why wouldn’t He-Who-Was-Desperate-To-Integrate-Himself-Into-The-Wizarding-World not have set up his own vault?
Harry: I don’t think he knew how, and he probably wouldn’t sink to asking something so low as a goblin for help on how to go about doing that. Anyway, I bet you anything there’s another Horcrux in there, another piece of his soul.
Ron: …We know what they are, we really don’t need a recap.
Hermione: And don’t you dare wave those wands at me, Harry James Potter!
Harry: I do what I like, you’re not my mother!
Ron: Right, after all this is over, I say we take a nice, long break in decidedly separate locations for a bit, this is getting to be too much for all of us.
Harry: Good plan. As is tracking down the next Horcrux and killing it so we can finally get a break from each other, that’s damn good incentive, actually. Not that I don’t love you guys, but, you know.
Hermione: Absolutely, I definitely need a break from you two.
Harry: So yeah, the plot is we destroy the rest of the Horcruxes and then we kill him. And stuff.
Hermione: We. Have. Been. Over. This. For. Months. STOP REPEATING IT.
Harry: No.
Ron: There’s only one problem, of course. We’re giving the only thing we know of that can destroy it to the dude who’s helping us. I really don’t fancy wearing a tiny trophy thing around my neck for another several months of camping.
Door: *begins to open*
Harry: I should’ve come up with maybe letting him destroy it so he knew we weren’t stealing for the sake of stealing, or something.
Ron: Yep, you’re dumb.
Fleur: *comes out onto the landing* He’s weak.
Harry: Balls.
Fleur: …
Harry: …
Fleur: …
Harry: …What?
Fleur: *goes down the stairs*
Harry: …O…kay?
Ron: …We still going in or what?
Harry: Evidently. *they all go in* Hey, John Hurt.
Ollivander: Hey.
Harry: So I need you to help rehash the story so far as well as ask a few other painful questions.
Ollivander: COME AT ME BRO!
Harry: Awesome. *walks up to him* We need to know if this wand is safe to use. *sits on bed…If Ollivander’s really weak and stuff, why isn’t he bedridden? Why is he sitting on a chair instead? Is it just to help make the shots look more dramatic? Or with all the people currently shoved into the house does someone else sleep in the bed while he’s forced to remain in the chair?*
Ollivander: *fondles Bellatrix’s wand*
Rifftrax: “Not safe to use.” Says it right here on the side.
Ollivander: Odd that I don’t recognize the shape immediately, not only did I probably make it but it’s probably been used on me several times over the past year and a half or so. Hang on, let me figure it out…Walnut, dragon heartstring, twelve and three-quarter inches…Unyie… *snaps head up to stare at Harry* Unyielding. Which could be taken to mean that it won’t change loyalties, but since I say that it belonged to Bitchface Thestrange, it probably already has. Just not to Miss Granger, she didn’t disarm her.
Hermione: Shit, I needed that.
Ollivander: Treat it carefully.
Harry: M’kay. *chucks it violently aside, hands him Malfoy’s wand next*
Book readers: …Does Ron still have Wormtail’s wand or what?
Ollivander: *takes Malfoy’s wand as the camera cuts to slightly above him, heightening the wand’s significance to those who know about the Elder wand’s current allegiance and just looking cool to those who don’t* Hawthorn, unicorn hair, ten inches, reasonably pliant… *holds it up to his ear* This…was the wand of Draco Malfoy. *deliberately puts emphasis on the word “was” so Harry would pick up on it because Harry’s that much of a dumbass and Ollivander knows it*
Harry: …Wait, it’s not anymore? I don’t get it, and really, barely anyone else will either.
Ollivander: Did you yank it out of his hands?
Harry: Yeah…
Ollivander: Then it’s yours. Because theft has sick-ass rewards like that.
Harry: Well that’s good, considering there’s absolutely no way to fix my own wand and even when I’m handed the most powerful wand in the world I don’t even make the attempt to fix it then; I’ll need a wand of my own. Anyway, something’s kind of been bugging me. You talk about wands as if they have feelings and thoughts and voices of their own.
Ollivander: Well of course they do, wands are people too, you know.
Harry: …So do you know anything about the Title of the Movie?
Ollivander: *face visibly goes from grateful-ish to anxious* It is rumored there are five—
Hermione: Three, sir.
Ollivander: Three.
Book readers: Wait a minute, Ollivander wasn’t supposed to know about the Deathly Hallows. He was just supposed to know a little about the Elder Wand, and even think that it’s a myth.
Movie watchers: Um, not everyone did what you all probably did and watched the first half immediately before coming to this one. We need a recap to remind ourselves what the hell’s going on. Besides, John Hurt’s awesome, why do you want to take screentime away from him?
Ollivander: There’s the Elder Wand, which I should be explaining is the most powerful wand EVER but I’m tire so fuck it. There’s the Cloak of Invisibility, which is basically an uber-Invisibility Cloak and will only show up one more time the entire damn series and won’t even be used in its capacity as a Hallow, and the Resurrection Stone, which does Exactly What It Says On The Tin, only presumably with loved ones. Which makes sense, only an evil overlord would probably bring back an enemy once he’d already taken over the world and was really, really bored. Together, they make one the master of death, which we never really get into in the film. But those are just a myth anyway.
Harry: Bullshit, you totally believe in them.
Ollivander: No I don’t.
Harry: Yeah you do.
Ollivander: No, I don’t.
Harry: …Yes, you do.
Ollivander: Do not!
Harry: Do too!
Ollivander: Do not!
Harry: Do too!
Ollivander: Do not!
Harry: Do too!
Ollivander: Do not!
Harry: Do too!
Ollivander: Do not!
Harry: Do too!
Ollivander: Do not!
Harry: Do too! You totally told That-Man-Who-People-Who-Were-Dragged-Here-For-The-First-Time-By-Their-Crazy-Fanatic-Friends-Are-Now-Getting-Very-Confused-About-Since-We’re-Refusing-To-Name-Him-This-Time-Around about the Elder Wand and where he could go grave-digging for it.
Ollivander: …I know it’s been said before by a far more unsavory character, but not everyone can be Frank and Alice Longbottom.
Harry: I know, I’m not blaming you, I’m just telling you what’s happened.
Ollivander: There’s no real need, I only told him a few rumors I’d picked up, which was really all I knew to begin with. It could take him years to find it, if he manages to find it at all.
Harry: Or it could take him about five months or so.
Ollivander: …What the fuck you on about?
Harry: He’s totally got it.
Ollivander: …Since when?
Harry: Since like right after we buried a house-elf in a shallow grave in the sand without any noticeable permission from the people who own said land.
Ollivander: …THEN WHAT WAS THE POINT OF ME TELLING YOU THAT STORY.
Harry: Thought you’d like to know, is all.
Ollivander: I — You really do blame me, don’t you?!
Harry: Of course not.
Ollivander: You guys are complete dicks, you know that?
Harry: We’ll let you rest now.
Ollivander: HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO REST AFTER WHAT YOU’VE JUST TOLD ME. WE ARE ALL SO UTTERLY FUCKING DEAD RIGHT NOW, YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW.
Harry: Well I suppose I’ll have to somehow kill him before he slaughters everyone else, eh? *skips out the door*
Hermione: *eyeing him oddly on the way out* What an odd thing to say.
Ron: Why were we even in this scene? We didn’t even do anything.
~And the Deathly Hallows were…never really mentioned again. If JKR was psychic and knew how the film would’ve turned out, I think she would’ve been better off with Harry Potter and the Elder Wand for a title, it’s the only Hallow that’s given any focus anyway.~
HAIR!: *exists*
Ron: This is so goddamn random to put this part here. But you’re sure that’s Bellatrix’s hair? It’s not Narcissa’s or, Iunno, Wormtail’s or Greyback’s or Scabior’s or something?
Hermione: I don’t fucking know, just role with it.
Ron: Okay, no plan as usual, I can handle that. *takes hair and puts it in tiny bottle that presumably holds Polyjuice Potion that’ll last upwards from ten minutes, which, considering how much time they actually spent in the bank, was probably all they needed*
Hermione: I am noticeably apprehensive. One could argue that this is me returning to my usual “okay” acting, but in this case it’s completely justified.
Ron: Except for the fact that I’m the one currently talking. Anyway, how are we supposed to know what even it is when we get in there, anyway? It’s not like we were given any sort of direction as to what any of these objects could be.
Harry: Of course not, that would’ve been useful. Also Spidey Sense.
Hermione: …You’re fucking shitting me.
Harry: You have no idea how much I wish I was.
Hermione: Hmm… *is saved from working out the incredibly fucking obvious plot point that EVERYONE saw coming by the arrival of her future sister-in-law*
Fleur: This was the sluttiest black dress I could find. You’ll have to come up with the corset, shoes, and whatever else you need on your own somehow, apparently.
Hermione: Fuck. I mean thanks. And seriously, what the fuck happened to your accent.
Fleur: I really wish I knew. *walks over to Bill*
Bill: I love how I’m letting my baby brother go off on a dangerous I don’t even know what he’s doing mission that could very easily result in his death. Do not tell Mum about this.
Ron: Pfft, yeah, like I’d be that stupid.
Bill: You came after Fred and George, anything’s possible.
Ron: True.
Harry: Anyway, we’re going in the morning.
Bill: Taking Griphook with you as well?
Harry: Yep!
Bill: Listen, I’ve worked with goblins for quite a while, and therefore I’m obviously privileged enough to give a detailed analysis of their culture as if I were one of them. If you’ve made any kind of deal with Griphook, you better damn well live up to it. Goblins have a nasty habit of ripping people's intestines out and playing jump rope with them.
Harry: Neat.
Ron: Thanks, by the way, for giving Harry a special pep talk and ignoring me completely.
Bill: Well I’m expecting him to look after you, aren’t I. Any trouble he gets in, you’ll be in.
Ron: …Point.
~Again with the deleted scenes being crammed right into the first chapter.~