Gold. And not just gold. Galleons, sickles and knuts mounted on infinite piles all around the vault. Jewellery, furniture, art, sculptures, chests, books, old manuscripts, rugs, tapestries and so much more stretched as far as the eye could see. Harry didn't think it possible that so much could be in one place at once. He thought there might be enough money in this lone vault to keep him, his children, his grandchildren, his great-grandchildren and his great-great-grandchildren living a comfortable life without ever having to work.
"This is unbelievable," he breathed and heard his own words running laps around the room before coming back to him. "Sirius, you have to—" His godfather wasn't behind him. Through the crack between the door and the wall, he spotted him and Remus standing off to the side, talking.
He'd get on without him, then.
He stumbled down some steps and as soon as his foot touched the main floor, a shimmer of light erupted in a wave of magic that crawled across the ground and scaled the walls until it met at the centre of the ceiling and was absorbed into the stone. A light breeze touched Harry's face and he imagined it was the very chamber heaving a sigh of relief, as though it had been waiting for his arrival. He lurched back when the walls started to pulse around him, like the room was doing its best to extend its arms at him and take him up in a hug.
"That's not creepy at all," muttered Harry, cursing under his breath when he then stubbed his toe on a marble structure that hadn't been in the way three seconds before. It was shaped like a pedestal; a modest one and nothing at all like the ones Harry had seen the one time he was allowed to go on a school trip to the museum. Resting on top of it was a simple chest along with an envelope propped up in front of it.
The envelope felt light in his hands but he knew that appearances could be deceiving, especially in the magical world, so there was no telling what was really in it. He wrapped his fingers around the paper and opened it in one quick move.
He allowed himself to breathe easier when nothing surprising happened and eagerly tore the rest of the paper away and pulled out two pieces of parchment folded together. His hands smoothed them out and his eyes were immediately drawn to the first words written by a feminine hand.
Our dear Harry,
Harry coughed and willed the tears to stay at bay. He knew that, nestled in his hands, he had the first piece of something linking him to his mother, something that his mother had touched and written just for him maybe while his father looked on over her shoulder. Both their eyes had darted over the same words that Harry would soon read himself.
If you are reading this, then it means that our worst fears have come to pass. I am writing this letter with your father by my side as you sleep peacefully in your room. You had a very tiring day, what with it being your first birthday, and I swear we've never seen you smile and laugh so much. It's with that memory in our minds, and the promise of more to come, that we finally found the strength to put these thoughts into words.
Although it is beyond painful for us to think that you might grow up in a world without us there by your side, it is also our responsibility as your parents to care for you even in our absence. I'd like to think we've done everything we can to keep you safe, and your father assures me we have, so I can only hope to one day be able to set this letter aside and tell you its content myself. But not making it out of this war alive is also a possibility that we've come to accept and yet, no power in the universe will ever be strong enough to force us to accept the same for you.
There are some things in this chest that we've been putting away this past year to ensure they stay safe, just waiting for you. They're things your father and I have used in the past. They've helped us overcome some of the most difficult times in our lives and if we're not there for you to help you overcome yours, the least we can leave you with are these mementos.
Our handsome boy, you will thrive and live and love until you cannot possibly believe there is any room left in your life, your heart, to experience any more joy, but trust me, there will be. That's a hard-earned truth I learned the moment you were born. We want so many things for you, my love. We want you to have the world and we want to watch you explore every crevice, discover every single wonder there is to see.
We want to see you to ride a broom and feel the wind in your hair. We want to be there the first time you get your Hogwarts letter and see which one of us you're most like: if you faint the way your father or take out a marker and underline the materials you'll need for the year, like I did. We want to wave to you as you board the train and then wait at home for your letters where you tell us all about your new friends. We want to cry at your graduation and embarrass you in front of all your friends.
And we want to see you to fall in love, to find that special someone that you know will be with you through thick and thin and never leave your side. Someone who pushes you when you need to be pushed and comforts you when you feel let down by the world. Someone who makes your heart race and your palms to sweat. Whose smile means the world to you and who understands you better than anyone else in the world. That's a love that can take you to the stars and back, much like it did for me and your father.
Lastly, we want you to know that we love you. We love you so much and we are so proud of the person you have grown up to be. You are our greatest accomplishment, Harry and nothing will ever change the fact that we love you with all our hearts. Don't ever forget that.
Love,
Mum and Dad
Harry carefully placed the letter back inside the envelope. He would make sure to find some place safer for it in the future, but in the meantime the pocket inside his robes would have to do. The chest was another matter altogether. He chanced a look inside and was met with rolls of parchment, some jewellery and several small packages wrapped in yellowing paper.
He decided to leave the chest where it was for now and proceeded to explore the rest of the vault.
There we really some extraordinary things in there, things that he'd never seen before and others that he never could've imagined would one day be his.
-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-
"What do you think is taking him so long?" asked Sirius. "Should I go in there with him? Maybe I shouldn't have left him alone, it's a lot to take in."
"He's only been in there for about twenty minutes. You heard what that vault is like and knowing James and Lily like we do, they probably left something for him in there," reasoned Remus.
"That sound just like something Lily would convince James to do," muttered Sirius.
"James had no problem thinking of the worst case scenario, but he was so superstitious, remember that? He wore the exact same mismatched socks every single time he played Quidditch after he won that first game."
"And he would always walk by the common room and bump his shin on the coffee table. Then he'd wait around for a while so he'd arrive late to breakfast because his first match had him so nervous that he couldn't fall asleep the day before and after he did, he overslept and barely had time to grab some toast," Sirius chuckled.
"He would've taken it as a bad omen, maybe even a jinx, to already prepare for their deaths," said Remus. "But he loved Lily."
"She had her head on straight. Had to, to be married to that superstitious nutcase," Sirius joked, his laugh sweet and strained.
"You ever think...out of our group, they were the ones who deserved to live the most?" If Sirius hadn't been standing shoulder to shoulder with his friend, he would've missed the hushed question.
"All the time," said Sirius. "They deserved the chance to see their son grow up. Heck, they'd probably know exactly what to do the moment their son started speaking to snakes and taming dragons."
Remus snorted. "I can see it now, Potter's Home for Misunderstood Magical Creatures, PHMMC for short."
"I don't see what you're laughing about. You'd be their poster boy."
Remus paled. "But I don't look good in any picture. I don't think I even have a good side."
"I know! It would be like shooting down five pixies with one spell. Donors would take one look at your long face and trip over themselves dragging their bags of gold," Sirius grinned. "Do you think that's what would've launched your long-desired modelling career?"
"You're the same shaggy fleabag you've always been, you know that."
"Nice one coming from a lunar mutt."
They didn't bother fighting the grins on their faces and revelled in them until a record worthy snore blew away at the bottom of their robes and served as a reminder of the two dragons dozing on the ground a hundred metres away.
"Do you think they'd be able to forgive me?" asked Sirius.
Remus didn't need to ask him to specify. "I don't think they'd see anything to forgive. I sure don't."
Sirius scoffed. "I left their child—my godson—alone for his entire childhood because I was too filled with rage and…"
"Heartbreak," whispered Remus.
"Yeah," Sirius gulped. "Too filled with things I couldn't even understand that got me landed in Azkaban and freed their killer at the same time. He was given a First Class Order of Merlin, Moony! First class! While Harry was stuck with those people and you couldn't even find out where he was."
"Pads, there's not a single Time-Turner strong enough to let us go back and change what we did to what we should've done," Remus sighed. "You think I'm any better? All of you were gone, but Harry was still around and I knew that, but I couldn't—I didn't know how to keep going and by the time I started to get my head on straight… There was only one way I knew I'd ever get to see him again and when him and his friends took our old compartment on the train, of all places, I realized I'd never make it up to them if I didn't really start trying.
"He still needs us and we're both here now, so I say we forget about ourselves and try to make it up to him. If nothing else, we owe him that much. It's what James and Lily would've wanted."
"I thought you said they wouldn't think there was anything to make up for," argued Sirius petulantly.
"That's what they would say, doesn't mean I have to agree with them," Remus shrugged.
"You're gonna get us haunted if you keep talking like that, Moony," teased Sirius. "I think I just felt a chill."
Remus barked out an unexpected laugh and said, "I wouldn't put it past them."
-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-
Harry was enjoying himself immensely. He had already gathered a few books that he thought could turn out to be very useful and was now sorting through dozens of magical trinkets—not unlike those found in Dumbledore's office—each of a different colour, size, shape and function. He felt overwhelmed yet giddy at being surrounded of his family history, a history which he'd thought had only extended as far as the death of his parents and nothing more.
He had just set down an object that looked like a miniature rounded version of the Eiffel Tower made entirely of metal that let out little puffs of pink and yellow smoke from its base, when something else caught his eye. There, nestled between some velvet cushions on a high-back chair, were a pair of silver hand mirrors that shone under the soft light of the candles scattered around the vault. He pushed aside the cushions and took the mirrors in hand then sat down and made himself comfortable, only surrendering to one solitary coughing fit when a puff of dust rose from the seat and surrounded his head like a swarm of hungry flies.
He studied the mirrors with great care, making sure not to miss a single detail. They were truly magnificent in their simplicity, he thought. They appeared to be made out of pure silver, the back had no decorations but the frame surrounding the glass was engraved with twisting vines and different types of flowers blooming from miniature sized pods.
Harry traced the vines curling around the glass with his fingers until he came across something that didn't feel right. It had far too many edges and was too small and compact to be a part of the rest of the carvings. He took his fingers off the engraving and squinted his eyes to make sense of what it was. Right at the very top of the frame, written in elegant cursive script, were the words:
In aeternum
He skipped his fingers lightly over it one more time then picked up the other mirror from his lap and searched it thoroughly. He skimmed over the same place where the words were etched on its partner and found an additional two words on this mirror as well.
Et semper
His fingers traced the inscriptions one last time as he wondered who these mirrors could've belonged to. They were old, expensive-looking and quite clearly been made with a very specific purpose in mind. Harry was more than half certain these two seemingly completely Muggle objects actually held some traces of magic and the feeling he got in his gut when he held them in his hands just supported that fact. With those thoughts in mind, he dropped the mirrors in his pilfered bag (though was it really pilfered if everything in this room technically belonged to him? Even if he couldn't quite bring himself to believe it yet?). He waited for the sound of the mirrors hitting the books already inside but heard nothing. Confused, he opened up the top and peered inside to check himself.
Shocked could not even begin to describe how he felt when he found the sack to be empty. He even turned it upside down but nothing dropped down from it. Now desperate, Harry stuck his hand in the bag and, instead of being met with its fleecy bottom, his arm kept on going in deeper and deeper. The bag was a bottomless pit; it had no ending, just a beginning. Harry felt slightly disappointed in himself, he should've realized that the bag was magical the moment he had dropped the twentieth book inside and had had no difficulty picking it up later on. He swore to himself to be more observant next time then picked up the nearly weightless sack and headed over to the door.
His hand was millimetres away from touching the door when he felt something big and heavy knock him on the back. The impact caused his knees to buckle and he winced as they hit the floor with a clap of bone on rock—he could already feel the pain tomorrow.
He braced himself with his hands on the floor and pushed to a standing position. There was a book lying on the floor close to where he had been before he'd been hit. Harry observed it closely and got his wand out at the ready, just in case. He'd had enough experience with books in the past to know not to trust any inanimate object without knowing exactly what it was first.
He knelt down next to it at a safe distance and did the only thing he knew to do. He poked it with his wand and waited for a reaction. When nothing happened he deemed it safe to touch and pocketed his wand, picking up the book before standing.
The book was very old for sure, and thick. The pages were made out of parchment so it must be a magical book, he decided. The cover was rich in brown leather with a belt that went across it, buckling the book closed. The title of the book might have once been written in brilliant gold but it was so faded by now that Harry could just barely make out the words.
The Potter Family
His curiosity peaked, Harry made to open the book and take a look inside but stopped himself before he did. He really wanted to know what was written on those many pieces of parchment, however, he knew it would be stupid to do so without first letting Sirius or Remus check it over themselves. If his second year had taught him anything, it was to never judge a book by it's cover. Not to mention he had a feeling that once he started reading this particular book he wouldn't want to stop until he'd absorbed every single bit of information it had about the family he once had and now knew nothing about.
He picked up the sack from where it had fallen and placed the book inside. He would make sure to have a look at that particular piece of literature some other time, preferably when there weren't two mature, abused dragons sharing a room with his godfather and Remus.
The thick door didn't make a single sound as it shut behind him. Harry wasn't allowed to take five steps before he was accosted by a very twitchy Sirius.
"So how did it go?"
Harry shook his head at his godfather's impatience but answered anyway.
"It went fine. I found some stuff that I think might be useful," he gestured towards the sack slung over his back, "I also found a letter from my mum and dad."
He hesitated to say more. It was a private thing, that letter and he didn't feel too comfortable sharing its contents with anyone just yet, if ever. Would Sirius ask to read his best friends' last written words? Could Harry really bring himself to deny him such a thing?
"I see." Harry saw the apple in Sirius' throat bob up and down as he struggled to swallow. "You all right?"
Harry shrugged helplessly. "I'm okay I guess. It's just a lot to take in."
"We get it, you know. It's okay if you don't want to talk about it yet. I've heard rumours that it can help to have someone just listen though, we can try it sometime if you want," Sirius teased lightly.
Harry's lips twitched in an approximation of a smile and he nodded in silent thanks.
Griphook wasted no time with sentimental proclamations and stared at the three wizards with cold indifference as they jumped on the cart behind him. Harry spared one last look at the entwined dragons on the curled up on the floor and felt a rush of sparks shooting down his limbs from the top of his head as the smaller of the two locked his serpentine eyes with his. Remember your promise, his eyes seemed to say. Harry sent back his own silent message before they were off racing down the tracks at an unreasonable speed.
"Hey, I just remembered something," Harry picked up his sack and shoved his hand inside. "I found a pair of hand mirrors stashed in there and I think they might be magical. Have you seen them before?"
He stuck his hand inside the bag, thought of what he wanted, and the mirrors instantly appeared in his hand. The mirrors were placed in Sirius' and Remus' capable hands and Harry saw something flash across their eyes as they inspected the objects.
"Yeah, I remember these," —a reminiscent smile touched their faces as Sirius spoke— "James had them specially charmed for him and Lily so that they could communicate when they weren't together. The mirrors had actually been in his family for a long time before he found them in the vault and he used the same spells we invented in our fourth year the first time we created the original… prototype, I guess you could say. The only ones that used those were your father and I once we got all the kinks worked out. I still have mine but I don't know what happened to his."
"You invented spells when you were in fourth year? You would've been my age." Harry hoped his tone of voice matched the incredulity he was feeling at the moment. He'd had many people come up to him and praise his mother for her intelligence and sharp wit, but to hear someone close to both his parents says something similar about his father had not been expected. As the thought entered his mind, he thought he's perhaps let Severus Snape's insults and jabs get to him deeper than he'd thought.
Harry shooks his head to rid his mind of Professor Snape. "So, how do they work?"
"We wanted to make it as simple and quick as possible. It hadn't been our intention from the very beginning but it occurred to us at one point… and by us, I mean your father and Sirius," —Remus shot his friend a look and Sirius grinned back at him showing a full set of teeth— "that on those very common lonely evenings when we'd be serving separate detentions, the time could be made to pass a lot faster if we could talk to one another without anyone else being the wiser.
"The mirrors serve as two-way communication devices and they have to be keyed in to the owner's personal magical signature. Those can't be replicated, so nobody else could use them other than us." Remus' passion for their invention shined through every word he uttered and Harry was reminded of what a fantastic teacher he'd been. "All we'd have to do is grab the mirror by the handle to let the magic get a feel of who we are and say the name of the person that has the partner mirror if we want to talk to them. Here, I'll show you."
Remus took out his wand and tapped the mirrors several times in a flurry of different motions and foreign spells. He handed them back to Harry and said, "The charms are all in place now. If you hold onto the handle here for a little while, just like that, it'll start to glow a soon and that means it's been keyed in to you." A soft light shone out from the edges where the glass met the metallic frame. "Excellent."
They came upon a sharp turn in the tracks and Remus thrust the second mirror into Harry's hands in favour of scrambling for the edges of his seat and holding tight until his fingers turned white. Without the distraction of the marauders' childhood exploits, the werewolf was at the mercy of his motion sickness once again.
Harry scooted away from Remus and dropped the mirrors into his bag. They could come in very handy if he ever found the opportunity to give the other mirror to someone else, just like his father had done to his mother. He briefly considered given one of them to Ron or Hermione, but a part of him immediately balked at the thought, though he knew it wasn't because of lack of trust or friendship.
"Mr Potter," exclaimed Griphook, "we will be arriving soon. I suggest you hold on tight."
"All right, thanks for—"
The cart took a sudden plunge into the empty air and Harry felt his stomach get lodged in his throat. It wasn't hard to push any lingering thoughts to the back of his mind as the cart took a second, deeper plunge into the darkness and all Harry could do was hold on tight and survive the exhilarating ride.
-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-
Harry made sure to thank Griphook for his assistance when they were finally back inside his office. The goblin had shot him a side-eyed look as though he wasn't exactly sure what to make of Harry before he bowed his head an inch and showed them to the door.
"One last thing, Mr Potter," Harry didn't bother with correcting the goblin on the formality anymore. "Am I correct in stating that you would like me to proceed immediately with the matter regarding the two dragons downstairs? I feel the need to stress upon you that this will undoubtedly cost a mighty fine galleon if it can be done at all."
"I made a promise, Mr Griphook, and I don't plan on going back on it now." Nothing else was said on the subject and the three wizards were soon walking out of the bank with a bag of books and generations of memories to show for their troubles.
"Would you mind if I passed by Eyelops' and Quality Quidditch before we leave? Hedwig needs some more snacks and I want to see this new broom I've read about," said Harry.
"Alone? I don't know, pup," Sirius had never been one to play anything on the safe side but then again, he never thought he'd had this much to lose before.
"I swear I won't take very long and you know there's not a chance anybody would recognize me looking like this," Harry pressed on.
Sirius ran a hand through his hair then turned to Remus for a much needed second opinion. Remus thought for a second before answering.
"I don't see much harm in letting you go alone for a few minutes," Harry's relief was short-lived. "However, I do think it would put both our minds at ease if we taught you how to get a message to us just in case."
Harry readily agreed.
"It'll be easier for you than most since you already know the Patronus Charm," said Remus. "This is a variation of that spell which allows your Patronus to relay whatever message you wish to whoever you want without running the risk of interference from a third party. The incantation is Expecto Nuntius. Your Patronus will appear just as it normally does with the usual spell, only it won't be able to protect you—its only function is to hear and deliver what you tell it to. Clear?"
"So it's just like doing a normal Patronus only with an extra word at the end, right?"
"Essentially, yes."
The little bell above the door announced Harry's arrival in the magical pet shop. He wasted no time in wandering around and simply went over to the owl section and grabbed the biggest bag of treats he could find. He didn't think he would be able to come back here any time soon so he made sure to grab enough to last Hedwig for a while. He quickly paid for his purchase and exited the quaint little shop. Time was of the essence during this excursion and Harry knew exactly where he wanted to spend his scant few moments of anonymity.
It was as he was admiring a new broom that he felt a presence next to him. He chanced a glance out of the corner of his eye and was surprised to see none other than Ginny Weasley ogling the broom along with him. He hadn't known that she was interested in Quidditch until she'd written that letter to him a few days ago but then again, he barely knew anything about the girl.
"Hi." He was embarrassed to admit that that was the absolute best that he could come up with.
"Hello." She barely looked at him before turning her attention back to the broom in front of them.
"Nice summer so far?"
"Uhm, it's been okay I guess," she said and took a step closer to the display case.
"Fred and George aren't bothering you too much, right? I know they get a bit antsy during the holidays." He smiled at her to put her at ease but, if anything, it just made her more on edge than before.
"Yeah, no, they've been okay so far."
"Good, that's good." Harry desperately searched for something else to say. "I didn't know you liked Quidditch. Maybe I could show you some of my moves sometime if you'd like."
"Excuse me!" she snapped her head towards him and levelled him with an impressive glare. "You'd like to show me some moves on your broom? Just who the heck do you think you are! I don't even know you and you're talking to me like we're old friends. Is this a… a thing you do with girls? What the hell is wrong with you?"
Before he knew it, he had a face full of angry Weasley. She'd slowly backed him into a corner during her rant and though he was a good head taller than her, he couldn't control the urge to shrink into the wall as she pinned him with her blazing eyes like a pin to a butterfly. He'd forgotten about the charms that had been placed on him to mask who he was so it was no wonder she hadn't recognized him. He blushed to the tips of his ears. He hadn't meant for it to sound like that.
She'd turned on her heel and was already halfway to the door when he thought to react. He surged forward and grabbed onto her hand.
"Wait, listen, I'm sorry. I didn't mean—It's not what you think, I swear…"
She snatched back her hand and hissed, "Save it."
Later on, he'd swear up and down that the only thing on his mind at the moment had been to get Ginny to listen to him and he hadn't really stopped to consider how he would go about accomplishing that until he'd watched his arms shoot out and grab her from behind.
He covered her mouth with his hand, put an arm around her to restrain her own between their bodies and led her, literally kicking and screaming, away from the front of the store and through a door at the back. The second the door locked behind them he let her go and took out his wand to undo all the charms on his face. He didn't know what he was expecting out of her when he faced her as himself but it wasn't having a wand pointed at his eye. Her eyebrows jumped to her hairline when she saw his face but to her credit, her arm never wavered.
"Ginny, wait! It's me. Harry." A red spark dropped from the tip of her wand, singing his shirt. "Potter," he added dumbly.
"How do I know it's really you? I'm pretty sure the real Harry wouldn't go around Diagon Alley snatching girls and locking them in storage rooms."
His cheeks flared to life again but he had the presence of mind to meet her eyes.
"I don't know what to tell you. It's really me." She didn't look impressed so Harry did the one thing he hadn't wanted to do. "I remember thinking your hands were so cold that you were already gone and I was too late to save you. You were so pale, too. You looked like a ghost and I was almost certain Tom had won. But I wasn't sure and if there was a chance… just a small one, that you could be saved…" He felt the cold claws of terror squeeze around his neck until he felt like it was a chore just to breathe. " Fighting that basilisk was nothing compared to how I felt when I thought you were gone."
He looked up from studying his shoes to see that Ginny had lost all colour. Her arm hung limply at her side and she shook from head to toe. From the haze covering her eyes he knew she was back there, in the Chamber, fighting for her life in a battle of wills with the greatest Dark wizard of the age.
Harry didn't resist the urge to take her in his arms and was surprised when she went willingly. She didn't return his embrace, but he felt her sink into him and had to brace his legs to hold both their weights.
"I never expected to hear you talk about what happened that day," she whispered into his shirt. "You never mentioned it so I thought..."
"That I didn't care," he finished for her. He couldn't blame her. He'd been an idiot and he knew it. "I do care. I swear I did and I still do, I was just—I'm so sorry."
"Me too."
It was Mrs Weasley's increasingly frantic calls for Ginny slipping under the door which prompted them to pull away from each other. Harry watched as Ginny slipped a finger under her eyes and subtly wiped away tears that he hadn't even realized had fallen. Her eyes flitted up to meet his and they regarded each other for some time, each of them lost in the same thought that played like a broken record in their heads: how is it that they could bring themselves to feel so comfortable in the arms of someone they barely knew?
The answer to them, of course, would always circle back to the Chamber. Those few hours fighting the memory of a monster had left them sporting wounds which ran much deeper than those decorating their skin. They'd been left with marks, identical blotches of darkness in their souls which called out to each other in recognition and remembrance whenever they were together.
Harry thought that perhaps in each other they'd found someone who understood, someone who accepted the changes that they'd gone through because they had experienced the very same thing themselves. A connection like that was hard to ignore.
She broke the silence first.
"I have to go."
"Right, yeah. I'm sorry about earlier, by the way. I didn't mean anything by it and I definitely wasn't—I mean it wasn't my intention to, you know." He turned around in time to see her muffling a smile behind her hand.
"I know that now. For Merlin's sake, it's you, Harry. Anyone else and I'd have trouble believing them, but you, I get," she grinned.
Harry gripped the hair at the base of his neck and huffed out a laugh.
"Thanks, I guess," he said.
"Any time."
With nothing else left to say and Mrs Weasley's cries getting louder by the second, Harry shuffled along the wall to make room for Ginny to open the door. She was halfway out before he stopped her with a hand on her elbow and had her facing him.
"Wait, here." Harry dropped his bag to the ground and bent over to reach inside. "Take this with you."
"What?" She stared open-mouthed at the hand-mirror he'd pushed into her hands. "I really hope this isn't your way of telling me I need to use a mirror more often." Her tone was playful with a hint of trepidation, as though she were gearing herself up for disappointment.
"Merlin, no! I can't seem to do anything right with you, I swear… This is one half of a pair of mirrors that belong to my family. My dad and his friends charmed them so they could use them to communicate with each other when they weren't together."
"I can't take this, Harry. It belongs to your family and it looks really old and expensive and I just really don't think—"
"Don't worry about it, all right? I trust you to take care of it properly, Ginny, and if anything does happen to it, I'm sure there's about a dozen more pairs like these in the Potter vault." He paused for a moment before letting out the next part. "We're not exactly the best of friends yet, but I wasn't lying when I said I'd like to get to you better. I owe you that at least, but that's not why I'm doing this either," he hurried to add when he saw her about to protest.
"I don't know…" She took her bottom lip into her mouth as she trailed off speculatively. Harry could sense he was only a few sentences away from convincing her to take the gift, so he soldiered on.
"It's not like I can send out letters to anyone anymore. I don't want anything to happen to Hedwig or Sirius, if someone recognizes her when they're looking for me. At least this way I'll have someone to keep me company."
She regarded him with narrowed eyes and said, "Don't think I don't realize what you're doing here, Potter. I practically invented guilt-tripping others to get my way."
"Is it working, then?" Harry had to suppress the urge to grin when he saw her visibly clench her jaw to keep back a smile.
"Damn you," she said with no real heat in her words.
After that it was a simple case of Harry rapidly explaining the workings of the mirror and staying by her side long enough to make sure she was keyed in to the mirror without any trouble.
"You should go now, before your mother turns the place upside down and inside out looking for you."
"Right, because you weren't the one keeping me in here in the first place."
Ginny grinned at him, pocketed the mirror and carefully opened the door. She popped her head out, straightened her clothes and then, not sparing him another glance, she left.
Harry waited ten minutes before following her out of the room. He'd turned up the hood on his jacket to cover his hair as he strode through the shop, onto the street and up to Gringotts where he could see his godfather and Remus trying to be inconspicuous as they scanned the street for him. Harry almost grinned when they finally caught sight of him, unglamoured and walking down a crowded street, and the thought that this would soon be the least of their surprises officially had his grin breaking to the surface.