Winter solstice, 1000 AD
Night
was falling fast. The last of the bonfires and merry, and at times drunken,
celebrations had long since died down. The last of the stragglers stumbled down
the crooked alley-ways back to their houses - if they could find them in their
drunken state. The new invention of Fire-Shootapoppers had been an immense hit
with the people of Narcarndia. Pranksters since birth, the Gruesome Twosome
Brothers - as they had always been known - had devoted a lifetime perfecting
practical joke gadgets and spells, resulting in all around entertainment.
The Narcarndians all agreed that the exploding brilliance of every-coloured sparks
into the dark night was the best thing since wooden wands.
"Ay,
wonda-da-f-f-f-ul way to welcome in this winter solstice," mumbled Great
Guzzly Gonzles as he lurched towards the walls, tipsy with extra-potent
whiskey.
"Mind,
ole pal," his friend Toddles said, steadying him. Not that it provided
much, since his friend himself was in just as bad a way, tottering on
Bambi-fowl-like legs.
A
third mate, Ribbit to his friends, danced towards them, swaying from one side
of the alley to the other, singing - totally out of tune - and swinging a half
full iron cask of butterbeer extra.
"May
all acquaintance be forgot aa-nd…. aa-nd…. aa-nd….what comes after that
mate?"
"May
all acquaintance be forgot….." repeated Great Guzzly Gonzles, before
giving way at the knees and ending up sitting in a puddle, gazing up at his two
equally merry friends and guffawing.
"Never
mind. Think ole friends," Ribbit thumped a hand on each of his friend's
shoulders. Not a good idea considering as it only served to cause Toddles to
collapse into an empty cart and Gonzles to sprawl into his puddle. Ribbit went
on, oblivious to his toppling his comrades, "Another year. Days are
getting longer. Life is good."
Picking
themselves up from the cart and puddle, the threesome staggered merrily home,
arms over each others' shoulders.
*
It
was a dark night, clear with the exception of a few clouds shielding the light
of the moon. Gonzles, Toddles and Ribbit had long since fallen into stupored
sleep in their own beds. The scuttles of a rat rooting through the party
leftovers in the bins, and the sweep of an owl's wings when swooping low to
catch his prey, were the only noises from the town. Peaceful. Friendly.
Trustworthy.
And
safe.
That was why IT was kept here. Under the most stringent
guarding. With gadgets and traps which would make the Gruesome Twosome's most
prized booby traps fade into insignificance. Nobody, nobody in their right
minds - or deranged even, for that matter - would attempt to fool the traps.
Not unless they had a death wish.
Until
now.
A
flicker of a movement. An almost inaudible rustle of the bushes. The moon was
still hidden behind the clouds. A cloaked, hooded figure moved lightly towards
the building. A grand display of sculpted architecture on the outside, Gringott's
Bank had cool, glistening marble floors on the inside. Clean. Immaculately so.
Shining surfaces, tapestry covered couches and gold framed paintings filled the
halls.
But
the hooded figure cared not for extravagant fancifuls. As his eyes accustomed
to the dark, he climbed up the outside of the building. Light as a cat, deft as
a trapeze artist, using the crevices kindly provided by the architecture to
help him along. Never at one spot for more than a second, he made it to a slit
at the back of the building unnoticed, and disappeared through it.
*
The
soft leather shoes made no sound as the figure fleetingly made his way to the
vaults.
This
is where IT was kept.
With
a devilish grin underneath the hood, his fingers worked deftly to undo the lock.
Always light, never forceful. To avoid triggering any sensitive alarms.
Taking
the carts which were used to travel the network of underground vaults, the
intruder chuckled inwardly as things went as easily and uneventful as they did.
Halting
at vault 79846, he took a quick glance up and down the tunnel. Nothing. Nothing
except for rows upon rows of vaults, and miles and miles of rails on which the
carts ran (which could barely be made out due to the utter pitch-blackness of
the underground network).
This
was all too easy, he thought. He would do this everyday. What a joke about the
place being a thief's nightmare!
With
trembling hands, he dialed the secret code into the lock, and ran a gloved hand
deftly over the door.
The
door slowly swung open, and the intruder gasped.
The
vault revealed a stone. A stone which possessed such an energy and aura that
took even the cool-minded intruder by surprise. No more than the size of a
Golden Snitch, it gave off a luminous glow that filled the entire chamber-sized
vault. Red, amber, violet, green, blue, turquoise…. It was impossible to
pinpoint what colours radiated from its core.
In
a shuddery, awed tone laced with reverence, the hooded figure whispered,
"The Aryanus Totalitus."
Gaining
hold of his usual cool-mind, he reached for the stone. Cupping it in his gloved
hands and bringing it out from the vault, he felt the warmth it possessed, of
the burning desire, the power. The glow easily illuminated the previously
pitch-dark tunnel, as if it were bursting with energy, ready to explode at any
moment. Shielding his eyes from the brilliance after having to adjust to the
dark surroundings for so long, a cunning wicked grin spread across the face
concealed under the hood.
"Master
veel be pleezzed."
Hopping
back into the cart, he made his journey back. Through the stretches of rails
and rows and rows of vaults. Back to the entrance of the vaults.
Or
was he really?
He'd
lost sense of time slightly from marvelling at the powers the stone beheld. But
surely the journey didn't take this long before?
Fear
surged as the cart flew through the network underground. Panic-stricken, he
pulled at the brakes. The handle only served to come off. The tunnel cavern was
getting murkier now, the rails older, and the last of the vaults flashed by.
Frantically
looking all round, he considered leaping out. Not the best of ideas when going
at 120m.p.h. in unfamiliar surroundings where rumours had it was riddled with
quick-sand and hidden pits, but….
Too
late. Turning back to the front, he saw the rail end abruptly, leading right
over an abyss, blacker than black had it not been for the glowing stone he was
still clutching onto. The cart flipped upon hitting the end of the track. Cart,
intruder, and stone were hurtled into the air and fell into the Gringott's
Absolut Abyss.
A
deafening crash sounded as the three, finally, hit the bottom. An explosion
erupted, and the stone shattered. A pool of luminous glow filled the bottom
while sparks of every-coloured light emitted from the pits of the abyss all the
way to the top where the rail had finished. Ricocheting off the uneven walls of
the cavern, they gave a fine display much like the Fire Shootapoppers as they
zig-zagged back down the abyss.
Hitting
the bottom, the sparks disintegrated into the ground. The glow seeped into the
ground, as if it had been sucked in by the earth. The abyss, the Gringott's
underground, and the town of Narcardia sank once again in total darkness. And
total silence…….
More Author's Notes:
Fire-Shootapoppers - firecrackers to all you Muggle people
Aryanus Totalitus - The term "Aryanus Totalitus" is a
name I invented. The word "aryanus" is derived from the word "aryan" which
Hitler has used for the what he thought as the supreme race. I picked the word
as one of my theories regarding Voldemort and his wanting of power causes him
to focus only in the pure bloods. His disdain and destruction of Mudbloods
mirrors the genocide of the Jews in World War II. The word "Totalitus" just
means total. And total of everything. Total of control, and of power. Not just
regarding the genocide side of things, but regarding everything.
And the Gruesome
Twosome Brothers are probably ancestors of Fred and George Weasley.
