““He’s having a laugh. We can’t let him have that sword.” “Is it true?” Harry asked Hermione. “Was the sword stolen by Gryffindor?” “I don’t know,” she said 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 days Gryffindor stole the sword.” “It’ll be one of those goblin stories,” said Ron, “about how the 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,” said Hermione. “They’ve been treated brutally in the past.” “Goblins aren’t exactly fluffy little bunnies, though, are they?” said Ron. “They’ve killed plenty of us. They’ve fought dirty too.” “But arguing with Griphook about whose race is most underhanded and violent isn’t going to make him more likely to help us, is it?” There was a pause while they tried to think of a way around the problem. Harry looked out of the window at Dobby’s grave. Luna was arranging sea lavender in a jam jar beside the headstone. “Okay,” said Ron, and Harry turned back to face him, “how’s this? We well Griphook we need the sword until we get inside the vault, and then he can have it. There’s a fake in there, isn’t there? We switch them, and give him the fake.” “Ron, he’d know the difference better than we would!” said Hermione. “He’s the only one who realized there had been a swap!” “Yeah, but we could scarper before he realizes--” He quailed beneath the look Hermione was giving him. “That,” she said quietly, “is despicable. Ask for his help, then double-cross him? And you wonder why goblins don’t like wizards, Ron?” Ron’s ears had turned red. “All right, all right! It was the only thing I could think of! What’s your solution, then?” “We need to offer him something else, something just as valuable.” “Brilliant. I’ll go and get one of our other ancient goblin-made swords and you can gift wrap it.””
