Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything else you recognize.
A/N: I don't know about you, but I've noticed that all of the vaults that we visit in Gringotts are all really high numbers, like 713. I was wondering...who owns vault number one? What treasures lie behind that first door? Well, here's what I came up with.
Vault Number One
He pulled his cloak about him tighter as he stepped up the many marble steps leading to the Gringotts bank. It had been a long time since he stepped across this threshold, but the bank had not changed much. The goblins manning the counters, waiting on customers, and weighing jewels were all the same irritable beasties they always had been. A reassured smile crept across his lips before he resolutely suppressed it. A cold, calm, impenetrable mask fell over his face underneath his hood.
"Can I help you sir?" The nearest goblin asked irritably.
"No, not at the moment." Was his self assured answer.
He needed more time to think.
Memories belonging to more men than just himself played through his mind. He remembered the Ancient races of the world, both magical and muggle. He recalled a time when the line between the two was almost nonexistent. Thousands of years weighed on his soul. Thousands of lives, billions of deeds both good and bad. He remembered the building of the great pyramids in Egypt, the great Ishtar Gates, the massive temples of the Mayans and Aztecs. He had lived through all walks of life in all the ancient civilizations. He had been placed upon the sacrificial altar to offer himself to their gods many times, and many times he had struck the killing blow. He had fought in armies as both commander and common soldier. He had ruled empires, created them, and destroyed them. His lips had graced the hands of the beautiful Helen of Troy with a kiss in greeting. He had traded riddles with the Sphinx. He had seen the fall of Caesar and his great Rome.
Slowly, he had seen humankind and wizard-kind grow out of their dark ages, and into an age where thought and reason reigned, only for that worthy goal to be overthrown by the pursuit of beauty. Times had changed, people had changed, growing more advanced and civilized, but he had remained the same, trapped, living the same life over and over again in an unbreakable cycle though the cast and scenery might change. To mortal kind he would appear to age, but always he would move on before they became suspicious.
In the wizard world he had witnessed the forming of a government. He had escaped witch hunts throughout history and had helped thousands to do the same. He had seen the rise and fall of at least one Dark Lord.
He had been there when the first stone of Gringotts, the goblin run wizard bank was laid upon the foundation, and had cast upon the mortar many of the spells that kept the building secure. He did not want his treasure falling into the wrong hands.
Though these memories had belonged to many men throughout history, all these had been him in some disguise. He was as ageless as the land on which he stood.
Making up his mind, he walked towards the counter.
"Can I help you?"
"Yes," He said in a calm, emotionless voice, "I would like to remove something from my vault."
"Very well, can I have your name?"
"I was not asked to give a name for it to be under when I created it."
The goblin looked non pulsed for a moment.
"Do you have a number and password then?"
"The password is Ancient One, and the vault is one."
He got a strange look from the goblin, but paid it no mind. The goblins had probably forgotten there was even a vault number one.
"Follow me, then."
He did follow, though they had not far to walk and it would not have been a challenge to find the vault. His goblin guide did not enter one of the carts that would swiftly carry its passengers deeper into the caverns. They instead walked to a stretch of wall that was across from the track. The wall appeared to be blank stone, but he was not fooled. To a mage's sight it would be clear that the chamber behind was accessible through the stone door melded almost seamlessly to the wall. Only a deeply rusted lock close to the floor on the right side of the door gave anything away to the less than careful eye.
He extracted a large, iron key from inside his cloak and inserted it into the key hole. Half expecting it to remain unlockable because of the rust, he was slightly surprised when the mechanism inside gave way cleanly. Still, the shock did not last. Not much surprised him for long anymore.
With a slight push, the door slid aside granting him entrance to the long unopened vault. Stale air whooshed past him, but he merely held his breath. The Egyptian tombs were worse. At first glance the vault appeared empty, but he was not discouraged. It was still here. Tucked in the far corner wrapped in a simple brown cloth and covered in dust was what he had come for. The small package fitted neatly in his fist as he left.
"Thank you, I will no longer need this vault." He told the goblin as he left, careful to keep his treasure concealed. The goblin growled about a waste of space and stalked away, leaving him alone.
Assured he was where no one could see, he carefully, almost reverently, extracted the object from its cloth covering. Sitting in his palm was a crystalline blue stone. It caught the torchlight of the cavern within its faceted depths and glowed with it. He smiled, knowing that compared to this gem, the Sorcerer's Stone was but a trinket.
A/N: Well, that's it. Not much solved, but, there you go. I was planning this to be just a oneshot, but if enough people want me to continue I will, (though I would have no idea where it would be going or how long it would take to come up with a plot line). Please review, I need to know what you think.