I Fall(out) to Pieces

Chapter 2


Voldemort had returned.

Harry knew this the last four years, but that had been a wraith; more than a ghost, but less than a spirit; horrific, but weak. Scary enough for an eleven year old, but this was different. The entire Tri-Wizard tournament had been manipulated into letting Voldemort return with the blood of his most feared enemy.

Harry had been thinking of that ever since the night he returned from the graveyard.

There had been fear in Voldemort. Fear of the unknown; fear of Lily Potter's magics; fear of Harry himself. It was the only explanation for the circus and convoluted plot Tom Riddle had put together. Voldemort had plenty of enemies. It would have been child's play to find an unwilling volunteer that opposed the dark wizard. But Voldemort had not settled on that. He didn't settle on the already captured Moody, who could be counted as nothing less than Voldemort's enemy. He didn't settle on blood from one of the many light families that had opposed him in the past. Instead he bent over backwards to shove Harry into place.

Because Voldemort feared him.

There was just a tingle of pleasure at the thought of being feared. And that pleasure made Harry feel nauseous. The idea that he could-

Harry cut off that line of thought as fast as he could manage. Instead he turned back to the situation at hand. His Blood.

It always seemed to come down to the blood.

Staring out the window of the hall, he specifically refused to meet the worried glances of those around him. He could feel their eyes on him. There was fear there, worry, concern, disbelief. He could, on some level understand those feelings. They were the feelings he had that first year when he realized his entire world was changed, warped and twisted around.

When the world changes, people don't instantly change, and sometimes the world changes much faster than people can adapt. The concept for his generation, save Hermione and maybe Ron, was almost impossible. Voldemort was an aspect of the past. They'd been drilled into the same petty fears and stupid unwillingness to speak the name, but there was little meaning for them. They didn't understand why the older generations feared Tom Marvolo Riddle's moniker. They heard that he killed people, but almost none in the school today were old enough to be emotionally connected with anyone who died at Voldemort's wand.

Harry was different. Day after day, week after week, month after month, Harry knew the creature that murdered his parents still existed. Existed and was now walking around in a new body, restored from whatever it was Lily Potter did to him.

He saw the green light when he closed his eyes. He heard his father tell them to run and then the thud on the stairs. He heard his mother cry out. He remembered the wand.

In his dementor inspired trip down memory lane, Voldemort never had a face. He was cloaked in black with a hand just a few shades off from ivory. With that wand.

Now he had other memories to add to the mix. Cedric. Cedric the Spare.

Then the circus. Ringmaster Tommy showing off to all his Death Eater clowns.

Voldemort's fear had to make Harry's death a spectacle, a symbol of Voldemort's power. To do otherwise would threaten his position as an invincible dark lord. The very thought that Harry had survived was enough to weaken the illusion.

Harry just wished that weakness had not been at the cost of an innocent life.


"What do you think about the War?" Hermione asked him on the way home that spring. She'd been trying everything she could to get him off his Diggory-Death Brood. She and Ron had tried quidditch, school studies, Sirius and Professor Lupin (which both backfired spectacularly since this brought up thoughts of Peter Pettigrew, who was responsible for giving Voldemort his resurrection and had personally "killed the spare" leaving the Diggory family in mourning), treacle tarts, even flashing him once (which had really just caused embarrassment as Neville got an eyeful). Nothing had worked.

"I don't know," Harry said.

"I got a blood test last summer to see if I can get in a Vault," Hermione said, stubbornly keeping the conversation going.

"Me too," Harry agreed.

"Oh? I'm just getting really worried about the whole thing," Hermione said. She glanced over at Neville, Ron and Ginny who were all blinking at her blankly. What war? She turned back to Harry "Did you know that all the wizards and witches I asked didn't know about it? But they're pretty sure they know how to protect themselves. But then I realized they didn't even know what radiation was. I don't want to end up with cancer, or worse, I wouldn't be able to take my OWLs or my NEWTs."

"We'll have to wait and see," Harry replied in a non-committal mutter. Hermione sighed loudly.

"Harry! Can't you see it isn't your fault?" she exclaimed. "You didn't do anything wrong! It's horrible what happened, but it's not your fault. Sure, the adults could have done better, but they shouldn't have put so much on your shoulders. All you can do is stand up and keep walking forward. Keep learning more!"

"She's right, mate," Ron said. "You-Know-Who did this, not you. Don't get down."

"And Fudge is a moron," Ginny put in. "He's scared, and he's a moron. Don't worry, things will get better."

Harry didn't say anything. He just stared off into nothing, just as he had the last few times they'd lost their tempers at his sullen behavior.


Two weeks later, Hermione was staring at the plastic card in her hands. In bright red UK-13 stood out on the pale sea green of the ticket. Under the large lettering was her picture, her birth date, place of residence and family. On the back was a strange bar code: a series of lines printed in royal blue under the Union Jack.

"We've got different tickets," She said sadly, glancing at the tears barely held back in her parents' eyes.

"I know," Helen, Hermione's mother said, holding her daughter close. "But at least this way we know you're safe."

"But-" Hermione's mind started to race in mid-protest. Everything she thought about the future was changing, so different from what she thought would happen. It had been so easy a few years ago, back before the war really started to ramp up. She had seen herself going to Hogwarts and becoming the best witch she possibly could. Now her entire future was in flux, with nothing certain.

Thoughts ran through her mind. She had considered the possibilities, but hadn't believed it would be so soon. She always thought she would have more time; time to finish school; time to learn a trade; time to marry and have a family. But she didn't have the time. It was happening now.

On one level, she knew what to expect of the Vault. It was a protective structure built deep underground to house and protect humanity so that their descendants could return to the surface when it was safe. But now, when it was time to prepare for it to happen, Hermione realized she didn't have enough of anything to supply herself or her family. And the fact that she wasn't going to be with her parents scared her more than ever.

It was hard enough only seeing them a couple of months a year. She and her parents agreed it was the great failing of all boarding schools, magical or not. She knew that it pained them to have to see her grow and change so much in the months between visit. Then she went to spend time with her magical friends, making the family time less and less. Now it would end all together.

And then there was the fact that she might very well have children of her own someday. She, like many young women, knew motherhood was likely in the future. But she realized that with her being a witch, there was a very likely possibility of them being magical as well. For them there would be no wands, no spellbooks, no Hogwarts. The Ministry of Magic would be unavailable to clear up accidental magics and there was no telling how the other vault dwellers would react.

"Hermione, we'll go to the informational meeting at the London Vault-Tech office and make a decision as a family," her father said. "While I know you like Hogwarts, this might be the safest method for you and for us. But lets get all the information before we decide to join or not."

"Okay," Hermione said even as thoughts of what generations of witches and wizards would need. The list was compiling in her head. Wands, books, potions sets, materials, plants. It wouldn't have a physical form or a concrete collection for some time, but it was building all the same.


"Now listen here, Boy!" Vernon said, getting right into Harry's face. "We're going to Vault-Tech London and you are going to do exactly as they say, do you hear me boy? We've got our tickets and you damn well better not screw this up for us!"

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," Harry said robotically. He was already prepared: wand and invisibility cloak in his pockets, Hedwig already uncaged and ready to fly away at a moment's notice. Harry stood up and walked to the car, buckling himself into the back seat behind Vernon. Dudley always took the seat behind Petunia since he needed more room. Harry glanced back at the doorway to where his aunt was sobbing over his obese cousin.

"Oh, Dudders," Petunia sobbed. She pulled her unhealthy son into an embrace. "I can't believe we didn't get the same vault. I want you to promise me to be a good boy in the vault, just like you are for me."

"Yes, Mum," Dudley said like he always did. Harry barely suppressed a snort of disbelief. She was acting like this, and it wasn't like Vault Day was right around the corner.

"Don't worry Pet," Vernon said warmly. "Dudders' a man now. Big and strong. He'll survive without us."

"I know, I'm just going to miss you so much," she said still clinging to Dudley (who was looking more and more embarrassed by the minute).

"We've still got two months before sealing day, Pet," Vernon reminded. "We'll go on a nice vacation beforehand. Maybe even to Calais like you always wanted. Just the three of us."

"What about the Freak?" Dudley asked.

"Oh, we'll find some place for him," Vernon said dismissively as he guided his wife and son to the hovercar. Harry sighed as he noticed it dip low as Vernon and Dudley climbed in.


Vault-Tech London was huge. Built like a giant pyramid, it was designed to have the same basic appearance as an uncovered vault. Constructed on former farmland about ten years before, it wasn't actually in London, but about 40 minutes drive north of the city. And today, it was packed.

The lines were huge with ever parking space filled and people waiting outside in the hot sun under beach umbrellas for shade. Every so often a woman in a blue dress suit and a Mr. Orderly unit would pass out water bottles to those waiting in line. Harry looked over at Vernon and Dudley, who were both soaked with sweat. Vernon had made the poor choice of wearing his best suit, thinking they could just waltz right into the offices and get the information.

Instead there were groups of a hundred at a time. The Vault-Tech greeter robots, Securitrons Harry thought they were called, counted off the number and let them inside. A while later, they'd exit with a folder and smiles on their faces. As the hours passed, Harry and the Dursley's got closer and closer to the front. The Securitrons counted off a hundred, ending with Petunia.

"Move along," the robots told the Dursleys.

"I'm with them," Harry said, pointing to the vanishing family.

"100 capacity at a time," the electronic voice replied. "No exceptions."

"Okay," Harry said with a resigned sigh.


Time passed easier, since he was now in the cool shade of the entryway, and he eventually made it inside. The room was wide and long, though narrow and had a projector behind them shining the image of a vault on a wall at the far end of the room. In front of the vault was a cartoon of a blond boy giving a wink and a thumbs up to the viewer. Harry dithered a bit as he pondered where to sit.

"Harry?" a familiar voice asked form behind him. The boy turned to see an unexpected face.

"Hermione?" Harry asked in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

She held up her ticket. "My ticket, UK-13."

Harry managed a grin and held up his own. "Same."

Hermione almost jumped over and pulled him into a hug which he returned just as heartily. "Harry, these are my parents, Helen and Menelaus. Mum, Dad, this is Harry Potter."

Hermione's father, Menelaus, reached out and shook Harry's hand. "I didn't know Hermione was going to have any classmates here."

"It was a surprise to me as well," Harry admitted. "I'm just here because my relatives got tickets as well and they'd be rejected if I refused."

"Oh, I thought there'd be no one I knew in the Vault," Hermione said. "I wonder what we're going to find out."

"Most of the people I saw leaving had folders," Harry said. "Other than that, I don't know."

Hermione opened her mouth to reply, but a loud voice from the stage cut her off.

"Everyone, if you would just take your seats, please?" a man said through a microphone. "We'd like to get started right away."

There was a small flurry of activity as people scrambled to their seats. The room darkened and some cheery music started up.

"Hello future vault dwellers!" said a cheerful woman's voice. "Welcome to the Vault-Tech United Kingdom informational where we're proud to present to you the virtual tour of our facilities that you'll be enjoying soon."

The images changed to show Vault Boy bowing and motioning for the viewers to "walk" into the video's vault door.

"Each vault is a state of the art construction planned to help protect and preserve the British spirit into the future," the woman's voice continued as it showed men, women and children enter a vault with expressions of amazement on their faces. The scenes changed as it showed them living life in a vault with all the modern services and conveniences. The image changed to show Vault Boy dressed up like a Buckingham Palace guard giving a wink and a thumbs up. "The future of Britain depends on you!"

"Enjoy our state of the art entertainment and education facilities as you use your learned skills to propel your vault into the future," she said as scenes of underground pools, school rooms and computer labs superimposed over a Union Jack. "We at Vault-Tech international are glad to have you working with us. We're dedicated to serving you and Britain now and forever. Now, please take an informational packet from the chair in front of you."

The video changed to show Vault Boy and Vault Girl opening up the packets and looking on in amazement.

"I know you are all looking forward to doing your best for Britain, but because of safety, we have to have certain rules in place," the woman's voice said. "for your safety and ours, we must enforce that everyone take only five personal items into the vault. While all essentials are supplied for our Dwellers, we have limited space and resources and want to make sure everything is as healthy as possible. With this in mind, we ask that no chems, no pets and no unauthorized plants be brought into the Vaults. Clothing will be provided upon entry, so note that each article of clothing counts as one of your personal items. We recommend your favorite holonovels, bits of family history or other items of nostalgia so you can remember those you left behind."

"Only five?" a man demanded in front of Harry and the Grangers. "This is a scam! Why not let us take a suitcase?"

Unfortunately for him the video continued on without him.

"Please remember that any rules or restrictions we put in place are because we're only concerned about your safety," the narrator said. "After all, saving the human race is our business."

The video changed again, showing Vault Boy and Vault Girl marching happily hand in hand into the vault. As soon as they were inside, the vault door rolled closed. The video over, the lights came on and the music ended.

"Thank you for joining us," the woman's voice said. "Please follow the Securitrons to our medical facility where we will make sure we have a full record of your health. Because forewarned is forearmed!"


Ted Tonks wasn't really sure why he and his family were there. They were a wizard and two witches, after all. This whole vault thing could easily be something of a muggle scam, but it wasn't up to him. The muggle authorities had caught him out walking the crup one day and asked why he hadn't registered with the local medical center. His protests ignored, he'd been given a week to register his whole household or the next time they saw him he'd be arrested. While he could have easily escaped with magic, he didn't really want to make waves in the neighborhood.

With that in mind, Ted, Andromeda and their grown daughter Nymphadora had gone to the local clinic for testing. It had taken a bit of wrangling, since neither Andromeda nor Nymphadora existed on paper, having been born in the Wizarding World, but he wasn't about to dodge the cops for the rest of his life.

"Why should we be concerned about this muggle war?" Andromeda asked, not for the first, second or third time.

"Because muggles fight differently from witches and wizards," Ted explained as they made their way to the Vault-Tech medical facilities. "They do everything bigger. They've got bombs that can destroy entire cities. Hiding just means they don't know they killed us all. And well, I'd like to be able to walk the crup without being accosted by madwomen with white feathers and lunatic bobbies with an axe to grind."

"I still don't know how that could be true," Andy replied. "I'd think if the muggles destroyed a city, we'd know about it."

"We do," Ted said, repeating the same argument they'd been having since the vault issue came about. "This isn't new, honey. They've had these bombs for about a hundred and twenty years. Two were dropped on Japanese cities in the 1940s."

"Cities?"

"One for each, dear."

"They can't be that big a deal if they've only used them a couple of times," Andy stated with utter certainty. Ted rolled his eyes and made a counter argument. It had become a bit of a game. Pureblood princess that she was, Andy had changed since her first bit of rebellion by dating Ted, but there was still some lingering prejudice against muggles and their technology. It had been troubling when he brought her to see his parents' house. Nymphadora was better, taking more after him in personality and more like her mother in magic, but even she was doubtful about the vault issue.

"Wait," Andy said, stopping sharply. "Is that who I think it is?"

Ted and Nymphadora turned. Walking with an older couple and a girl about his age was a familiar mop of hair with a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt.

"Merlin's bloody balls," Nymphadora muttered darkly under her breath.

"What in blue blazes is the Boy-Who-Lived doing in this meeting?" Andromeda asked in confusion.

"Those aren't his relatives, either," Nymphadora pointed out.

"How do you know that?" Ted inquired of his daughter. She sighed and slumped a little. He could tell she was struggling to keep her hair from changing in public, something that always caused her a bit of stress.

"I've been keeping an eye on him sometimes for Professor Dumbledore," she admitted.

"Oh, you're not getting pulled into that damn bird club of his, are you?" her mother asked with a bit of derision tinging her voice. "I'd really prefer it if you didn't charm a glowing target on your chest."

"Too late, Mum, I'm in the bird club," Nymphadora answered.

"Ugh, bad enough my sisters and cousins lose everything for joining up with that monster, now my daughter's going to get herself killed fighting it," Andy grumbled.

"You do know that Sirius is innocent, right?" her daughter pointed out.

"All I know is that war got my sister Bellatrix sent to Azkaban, my cousin Sirius sent to Azkaban, my cousin Regulus sent to hell by the snake's wand, and my sister Narcissa sent to hell on earth by being forced to marry another monster who should have been sent to Azkaban. Honestly, mother and Auntie sold her off like cattle to auction," Andy told her daughter in exasperation. "I know what I'm talking about. I know exactly what that monster has cost my family. Your great-aunt might have burned me off the tapestry for having a brain to think with, but they're still my family. Yours too, Nymphadora."

"Ugh, Walpurga," Nymphadora grumbled. "Nasty wench." At her mother's curious eyebrow raise, the young woman shrugged. "Met the painting. Horrible woman."

"That, my dear daughter, is a grand understatement, I don't believe that a painting, even animated and possessing an impression of her personality, could truly portray her as she was in life," Andy commented. "Very well, let's get this 'physical' over and done with."

Ted grinned as his wife went into her "oh, it's such an imposition, but as a pureblood princess I must practice noblesse oblige" mode. Everything about her being screamed "feel pleased I'm deigning to do this, you should feel proud to be allowed in my presence." Much more put on than when they first started dating, these days she used it more like a joke. Ted, however, always thought the attitude sparked other feelings. Maybe it was a good idea for Nymphadora to spend the night out on the town tonight.


"You've got to be kidding me," Tracy Davis said, gawking and glaring at the boy at the head of the line. She shook her head of long blonde hair and looked again, getting the same result. Her suspicions confirmed, she straightened her back and grew just slightly more tense. Her mother held the baby Davis to her chest and followed her daughter's gaze.

"What do you mean?" her father asked. Elijah Davis, like James Potter, was a pureblood who married a muggleborn, Mary Travers. It was a supreme irony that their daughter went into Slytherin considering her Half-Blood status, a situation that was inevitably troublesome, and the fact that her mother and father were a Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff respectively.

"Don't you recognize him?" Tracy said, pointing towards the boy. "Please tell me you know who I'm talking about."

"No, my dear," her mother said, "I'm afraid that you'll have to explain."

"That boy up there?" Tracy said, nodding towards the thin teen up ahead. Her parents took a closer look. "That's Harry Potter."

"You cannot be serious? The Boy-Who-Lived, regardless of what the Prophet says, wouldn't be here of all places," her father protested.

"That's him," Tracy said. "I probably would have dismissed him as a look-a-like if he wasn't walking with Granger. That's a head of hair I couldn't possibly mistake. Those two and Weasley act like they're Hogwarts Royalty when they're at the castle, but he's probably here because of his muggle relatives."

"I know Dumbledore said he was safe, but placed with muggles? That's stretching things a bit, wouldn't you say?" her father said, skepticism heavy in his voice.

"Oh, I know what the rumors say and I know what the other Slytherin parents say, but I keep my ears open at Hogwarts," Tracy replied. "What was it you always say? 'All knowledge is priceless in the right context?' Was that it?"

"Yes, but really, muggles?" Elijah asked.

"Might I remind you, dears," Mary said tersely, "that both your in-laws, and your grandparents, Tracy, are muggles? You know, those two wonderful people who raised me?"

"Well, I'm sure it's perfectly acceptable for him to have a well rounded background full of diversity and experience," Tracy's father said quickly without any trace of nervousness. Of course, if he weren't nervous, he wouldn't have agreed to Mary's insinuations so to save face he instead changed the topic slightly. "What do you think of this war? Could it really affect us?"

Just like Andromeda Tonks before him, he didn't have the knowledge needed to truly understand what the muggles were afraid of. Magical ignorance struck again. Tracy's mother was quick to shush her husband, chastising him for his poor education.

"Very well," her father agreed. "I suppose if Albus Dumbledore has Potter attending I should take this seriously. I don't know about all that nonsense about You-Know-Who, but Albus Dumbledore has done well by the Wizarding World for a long time so I'm not just going to jump ship at the first opportunity."

"Such a Hufflepuff, Dear, such a Hufflepuff," Mary said warmly to her husband. "Though it does hurt a bit that you didn't take my word for it."

"I did, but as you always said in Hogwarts: always back up your evidence with more evidence," he replied. His wife shook her head with a bemused smile as she repositioned herself and her sleeping baby.

"I'm worried about Astoria," Tracy blurted out. "And Daphne," she added quickly.

"What's this?"

Tracy looked up at her parents. "Daphne's like you, Dad. She doesn't know what's coming. And the muggles only found us because of Mum," Tracy explained. "She's my best friend. I'm not going to leave her alone in Slytherin on the off chance that Potter's right about You-Know-Who. The Malfoy block will eat her alive if she doesn't have an outlet."

"Very well, we'll look into it when we get all the information, not before," Mary agreed as they were summoned into the medlab.


"You have got to be kidding me," Harry said as he stood in the nearly empty parking lot.

"Harry?" Hermione asked. "Where are your relatives waiting?"

Harry glanced over the lot once more trying to find their distinctive figures in the few remaining people. It really wouldn't have been that hard to find people who closely resembled two human-hippo hybrids and a human-horse-giraffe hybrid, but that was assuming they'd wait around for him.

"They ditched me?" Harry asked. "I can't believe they ditched me!"

"Harry, you're in Surrey, right?" Menelaus, Hermione's father asked. Harry nodded. The man smiled warmly to him. "What town? We can give you a ride."

"Little Whinging. I don't want to impose," Harry began.

"Harry, get in the car," Hermione commanded, her hands on her hips, her face stern and her voice filled with her powerful bossy nature.

"Yes, Hermione," he said as he accompanied the Grangers to their car. And what a nice car it was. Newer, faster, sleeker, the Grangers' Maserati hovercar was beautiful. Dentistry, even in the age of the Auto-Doc, paid well apparently.

Riding with the Grangers was different from family interactions he'd seen before. It lacked the doting and vitriol that the Dursley's sent Dudley and him respectively. It lacked the Weasley's strange diversity of opinion, barely constrained chaos and loud voices as well. The Grangers treated Hermione, and him by extension, as little adults, not as children. It was refreshing. In the time it took them to get to Little Whinging, they spoke of politics, how the war effected their practice and something of Hermione's latest reads.

"Here it is," Harry said, as they pulled up to the curb in front of 4 Privet Drive. Harry got out, walked up to the house, absently noting that Vernon's cherry red BMW 5 hovercar was missing. He reached the door, pulled and realized it was locked. He tried again, pressing his hand against the lock, twisting and turning.

"What's the matter?" Helen Granger asked.

"It's locked," he replied. Hermione's father turned off the engine. Together, he and Harry peeked in windows. "They're not home." He slumped against the door. "They went on vacation and ditched me."

"I'm really starting to dislike your relatives, Harry," Menelaus Granger said. "Is there any other way for you to get in?"

"My window upstairs," Harry explained. "I opened it to allow Hedwig to fly. If you give me a lift I can climb in."

"I can do that but only if you promise to pack your things and come with us," Mr. Granger said. "Hermione told me what happened this year, all that idiocy with the cup and what happened to your friend. You're not staying alone."

"That's not necessary," Harry protested. "I'll be fine."

"That's a lie and you know it," Mr. Granger said, telling Harry more than anything exactly how Hermione got her Bossy streak. He threaded his fingers and leaned down so Harry could use the lift. "Up you go."

Harry clamored up the shingles, the gravel and tar scratching his palms as he braced himself. Maneuvering around the lower level, Harry managed to reach his open window. With a jump and a bit of luck, he manged to half throw himself inside, though the sill hit him right in the diaphragm, knocking the wind out of him.

As was usual for him, Harry did as he was told. He packed everything from his school books to Hedwig to his personal belongings. He made his way down stairs, Hedwig's cage in one hand, his trunk dragging along behind him in the other and made it to the front door. Taped to the handle was a note.

"Boy," the note read in Petunia's familiar hand. "We've gone on vacation. Don't cause trouble and no freakishness. The box on the table is yours."

Harry glanced at the table and saw an enameled box about half the size of his trunk sitting on the kitchen table. He shrugged and opened the door.

"This is, Harry?" Mr. Granger asked.

"Almost," Harry said, nodding to the box. Mr. Granger nodded and picked up the trunk. Harry grabbed the box. After some rearranging of the boot, they managed to have room enough for everything with Hedwig's cage between the two teens in the back seat. They turned the key and the hovercar lifted up off the ground, gone from Little Whinging a few minutes later.


"Wotcha, Prof," Tonks said as she entered the Order's current headquarters. Most of the other were parked around the kitchen table as they usually were before kicking the children out for a meeting.

"Hello, Nymphadora," Dumbledore said. "I must admit, I wasn't expecting you here today. Family business, I think you said."

"Yeah," she nodded. "But I saw Harry Potter at the Vault-Tech meeting earlier."

"What?" Molly Weasley gasped out. "He's supposed to be safe with his relatives!"

"I think they were in the earlier group," Tonks explained. Sirius raised a hand.

"For the rest of us, what's Volt-tick?"

"Vault Technologies," Tonks corrected. "Muggles are worried about war and are building underground bunkers to keep people safe. My family business was an informational at Vault-Tech. My dad got caught by the muggle aurors and told he needed to sign up the whole family. We all got tickets, so we had to go find out more according to the muggle laws."

"And you say Harry got a ticket for such a place?" Dumbledore asked.

"He wouldn't have been there if he didn't have a ticket, probably got signed up along with his relatives," Tonks explained.

"Muggles are at war?" Arthur Weasley asked. Tonks struggled to keep from rolling her eyes and sighing. She failed partially and let out a deep sigh. She went on to explain everything and it ended up being a repeat of her parents' debates on the subject.

"This vault might actually be the safest place for Harry right now," Dumbledore said, popping a new Lemon Sherbert Drop. A number of the purebloods of the Order looked at him like he was mad. "With Fawkes, we can retrieve him at any time, but so long as he's in this Vault, which I'm assuming is like a muggle version of Gringott's, he's safe from outside threats. So long as the location is kept secret from Voldemort's forces, Harry will be safer than ever before."

"What should I do?" Tonks asked. "I mean, my whole family got tickets and we're not sure what we're choosing."

"I'd ask you to take the chance, Nymphadora," Dumbledore suggested. "You'll be closer, more able to protect him and we can still call you back with Fawkes. It's safest this way, I think."

"I don't like the idea of Harry being trapped like that," Sirius protested. "He should be here, with us. We can protect him better than anyone else can."

"Padfoot," Lupin said, resting a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Think about it this way. With him in hiding, we don't have to spend so much energy protecting him. We can bring the fight to You-Know-Who. We can be proactive instead of defensive. But to keep in touch, have Tonks give him a Mirror."

"Mirror?" Dumbledore asked. The two Marauders chuckled a bit.

"Communication mirrors," Remus explained. "Say the name of the person with the other mirror and their image appears. You can talk to each other through them. James and I made them so we could talk to each other when we were in separate detentions."

"Hey! I helped too!" Sirius protested.

"Hmm... I always did wonder how you three could meet up so quickly after you were released," Dumbledore pondered. "Can you still make them?"

"With the resources, sure," Remus said, looking to Sirius who nodded. "I'll need someone else to deal with the silver, but I can do most of the Charms work. It was my array and calculations that made them possible."

"Have Filius work with you," Dumbledore said. "I want all of us to have a Mirror. Sirius, Remus, make a list of other Marauder inventions. I have a feeling they may come in handy in the future."

"I don't think this is right," Molly protested. "He's just a child. Harry should be here with us. If he's here, we don't need guards or anyone at Privet Drive."

"No, Molly," Dumbledore said. "For all the reasons we've said here and more. While Harry's friendship with Ronald and your family is well known, having him closer would put all of you at risk, much greater than you are now. With the mirrors, you'll be able to talk to him."

"What about the prophesy?" Arthur asked. "We've been guarding it all this time and we both know only two people can touch it safely."

"Harry and Voldemort," Dumbledore said. "Yes, we shall have to do something about that. Remus' comment about being more proactive comes to mind. I think the best decision would be to destroy it."

"What?"

"I have a copy," Dumbledore said. "There's no need for the orb. With Harry safe and secluded, we need to limit the possible targets. Perhaps replace it with a fake."

"Why didn't we do this in the first place?" Bill Weasley asked.

"Because I didn't think of it before," Dumbledore replied honestly.

"Oh. Well, okay," Billy said, feeling a bit sheepish.

"Yes, something we probably should have considered much earlier," Dumbledore commented. "Things are looking up, I suppose. Next we just need Voldemort to show himself."


It was late in the day. Almost time for closing in fact. The majority of potential Vault Dwellers were processed and gone by that point and the human staff were just about ready to close up shop.

Then he appeared.

It wasn't that he drove up or took the last bus. He appeared on the cameras out of thin air, only a slight burst of wind as he appeared.

Seemingly unaffected by the sweltering heat in his black pinstripe suit, black fedora, black shirt and white tie, he walked up to the Securitrons and handed them a ticket for Vault UK-13.


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