Hey ya'll, sorry it's been a hot minute. I have a lot written, so be ready for some quick updates. This story is about to severely diverge from canon as I include and expand on Celtic and Harry Potter lore. Let me know how ya'll like it and what ya'll think! Reviews always make my day, especially from my regulars :) ya'll know who you are. It's ya'll that I'm thinking about when I'm up at four a.m. planning this plot.
Hermione spent two hours wrangling the goblins again, who were none too pleased to see her back at Gringotts so soon. However, as the officially instated heir to the Black and le Fay houses, they had no legal recourse to prevent her from entering her vaults. She wasn't happy that Narcissa and Draco would be sharing her first glimpse into the secrets of her family history, but there was nothing she could do about it. They had stuck to her side like burrs since leaving the Ministry. She suspected the meeting with the extended family would have had Narcissa bristling if she had fur. That had certainly not been part of the woman's plans to raise Hermione within the fold of the Malfoy family.
"There," Grifvindurk growled as the Black vault swung open once more. "Hurry up, the le Fay vaults are far away and I have important matters to attend to."
Narcissa curled a delicate lip in a sneer. While she was perfectly polite to most witches and wizards, her manners failed her when confronted by rude magical creatures. "More important than attending the most powerful girl in Britain? I think not."
He bared his teeth and said unfriendly things in Gobbledygook. Hermione hid a smile at his thunderous expression and entered the vault.
Then she stopped dead in her tracks.
She knew her newfound family had money, but the sight before her rendered her speechless. Towering stacks of galleons, an array of ancient weapons, countless bejeweled adornments, and an endless shelf neatly packed with rare books. She could hardly believe her eyes at the centuries' worth of accumulated wealth available at her disposal.
"Well," Narcissa said after a beat of silence. "You will never want for much, Astarte. This is not even counting the considerable assets being returned to your name as we speak."
Draco was still staring wide eyed at the treasure. "Bloody hell," he whispered, "is that a first edition broom?"
"Language!" Narcissa snapped, but Draco had already turned pleading eyes on his former nemesis, ignoring his mother entirely.
"May I please look at it, Heir Black?" he asked, using her formal title, perhaps to enter her good graces. It was ineffective, but smart, to treat her with respect. She already knew what he was capable of.
Hermione looked at the contraption he was entranced by. She had absolutely no interest in flying, having had a decidedly bad time during the one practice she had attended with Madam Hooch. The broom before her was leant up against the wall like refuse, not an ancient artifact. Honestly, if she hadn't seen Draco's reaction, she would have assumed it was just trash or some odd broom goblins used to clean the vaults. It looked like nothing more than a slightly crooked pine tree branch, down to the evergreen needles interspersed in haphazard tufts at its end. It barely resembled the current models, which were streamlined and more resembled Middle Age cleaning brooms than branches. Although, she considered, the branch looked as though it had just been shorn from the tree, despite how old it undoubtedly was. No normal broom would look like a pine bough, and if she understood the goblins at all, she sincerely doubted they cared after her vault so well as to regularly trim trees for new brooms.
An idea came to her, and she smiled. "You can have it, actually. You and all of Slytherin knows I have no interest in Quidditch."
His eyes nearly popped out of his skull, but he didn't need to be told twice. He hurried over to the glorified tree branch and began to inspect it reverently.
"That is very kind and generous of you, Astarte," her cousin said. Narcissa's voice was deceptively gracious, but Hermione knew she was suspicious of the sudden change in behavior.
"There is no benefit to maintaining a quarrel with family," Hermione said pleasantly. "After all, he will find much more enjoyment in it than I ever would."
The witch smiled happily, not at all trusting of Hermione's explanation. "I knew you were clever, dear girl. I always wanted a daughter."
Struck dumb by her cousin's casual remark, Hermione could only blink. Then she steeled herself, remembering that it was this woman and her husband's callous disregard of others that had instilled such values in their son that he would torture a twelve-year old classmate. The beast prowled behind her ribs and bared its teeth in agreement. Besides, Hermione already had a mother she loved dearly, despite the secrets she kept.
Unable to form a response to the older witch, Hermione chose to tactfully smile and change the subject. "How many galleons will I need for my errands? And what should I take with me from this vault back to school?"
Narcissa allowed the redirection and began to educate Hermione on expected expenses. As she talked, the young witch realized that for all her planning, she still had a lot to learn about the pureblood world. She added a mental note to her check list: find library books on typical finances and investments in the wizarding world. It was dry material, but the knowledge would no doubt aid her, especially considering the hefty investments in her name and being reclaimed from other families, thanks to Lucius Malfoy. She definitely needed to know more if she was ever to understand her family finances. The less she had to depend on the Malfoys, the better.
"Other than galleons, you will also need several pieces of traditional Black jewelry to remind others of who you are, should they dare forget," Narcissa continued. She led Hermione to a wide case of glass, the shallow trough coated in black velvet. Precious stones and polished metals beckoned her eyes from one piece to the next. "Something that clearly shows your status, but is not too gaudy for daily wear. Let's see…." Her pale fingers drifted over the glittering array.
"What about this one?" Hermione asked as her eyes caught on an attractive piece.
Narcissa reached into the glass and plucked the bracelet from its velvet bed. Hermione poked the glass surface, curiosity piqued by how her digit slid into the glass and out the other side.
"It's spelled to only allow those of Black blood to reach inside," Narcissa explained. "Gringotts has never been robbed, but our family is exceedingly cautious anyway. Anyone not of our line would be burned terribly if they tried to steal from beneath the glass."
Hermione added another mental note to research the spells used on the glass. If she could key it to her le Fay blood rather than her Black blood, no one at school would be able to touch her things. She frowned. Assuming no other le Fays were out and about. Secret heirs seemed to be a theme.
"You have a good eye for taste," Narcissa complimented. "This is perfect for what you need."
The bracelet was tiny and dainty, but elegantly glamorous. Small emeralds and diamonds dotted a thin band of silver that coiled into the shape of a snake. The eyes were sulfurous citrine stones. It fit perfectly on her wrist, tightening itself magically so it would never come loose. Hermione tilted her wrist back and forth, watching the way the light hit the snake's eyes and lit the yellow stones from within. "This is the most Slytherin thing I've seen all day," she murmured to herself.
Her comment startled a laugh from her guardian. "Yes, well, we snakes have house pride," Narcissa smirked. "I can't imagine a badger working half as well as a snake when it comes to jewelry."
Hermione smiled despite herself, agreeing. The sinuous coil of gemstones on her wrist was an enchanting reminder of her lineage and house.
"You will also need a signet ring. It's traditional for the male heir to wear it, but having a sole female heir has happened before in other houses, so I have no doubt there will be a finer, more feminine version of that for you," Narcissa said, pointing at a clunky ring bearing the family crest.
"What if I had one made, instead?" Hermione questioned. "Something to combine the Black and le Fay houses. A personal signet ring."
"An interesting idea," Narcissa admitted. "However, that will take a week or two to request and receive. Until then, this should do."
Hermione eyed the dark silver ring warily. It certainly wasn't attractive, but it would do for a short period of time. She slid the ring onto her hand, rubbing a thumb over the skull wreathed in ivy. She would get her own signet as soon as possible.
"Anything formal can remain here, safe and guarded, until you have need. Next thing you need is an ancestral token, something that isn't jewelry. A vivid connection to your ancestry would be helpful if anyone gave you trouble over this whole mess. Draco himself took a token to school, and no one doubts his blood anyway."
"What did he bring?" Hermione asked curiously.
Her cousin scoffed. "His father insisted he choose a stamp with one of their ancestor's initials. It is acceptable, but useless. They are not his initials so he can't use it to create a wax seal. There was a perfectly nice handkerchief made of silk from several hundred years ago with the Malfoy crest embroidered in a corner, but no, Lucius insisted."
Hermione was slightly surprised at receiving the story in response. She was also surprised at how much it humanized the Malfoy family. But she wouldn't let herself be drawn in. The beast demanded its due, snapping its jaws. She tapped her chest at the burning sensation that evoked.
Draco, his attention so taken that he never looked up at the mention of him, lovingly coaxed the ancient broom into the air as the pair of women wandered around the huge vault, trying to find an item Narcissa deemed appropriate. Finally, Narcissa spotted the perfect token.
"Is this Celtic?" Hermione asked curiously, gazing into the bronze mirror. It was obviously primitive, but the metal shone as if it had been made hours ago rather than thousands of years ago. She held it by the handle, which was engraved with a creeping pattern of blooming and wilting flowers.
"Yes," Narcissa said proudly. "The Black family has been in the British Isles since before the Romans. Black blood is only younger than the bloodlines of le Fay, Merlin, which is extinct, and perhaps Slytherin."
The surface of the mirror began to cloud as Hermione stared into it, and Narcissa inhaled and quickly snatched it from her grasp. Suddenly bereft, the young witch frowned. She had had an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach, as if the mirror had something important to show her.
"Be careful of this mirror," her cousin cautioned, sliding it into the velvet bag they had found it in. "It is a famous historical artifact, created by our ancestor Andromechus Black, to show the true nature of any who looked into it. Everyone believes it lost to time, but it appears it has been hiding in the Black vault all along." Narcissa looked disturbed.
"Historically important and supposedly lost? It's perfect for a token," Hermione said, itching to get her hands back on the mirror. "Also, something like that would prove too interesting for any Slytherin to ignore, if I want to form ties." She felt desperate. She would use any excuse to look into the bronze surface and see what it wanted to show her.
Narcissa shook her head, appearing shaken. Her fingers were barely touching the bag, as if afraid to be too close to the mirror. "What the mirror reveals is never what the bearer wants or expects, Astarte. It has driven those who looked into it mad. We will find you something else."
Hermione watched longingly as her cousin placed the velvet bag containing the mirror back among the pile of historical artifacts. She could sense the older witch wouldn't budge on her final decisions, so she would have to return later to look into it and assuage the tug in her soul.
They located another acceptable token, a small yet ornate tapestry, no more than a foot by foot square, which Hermione knew would look nice hung above her nightstand in her dorm. It was a depiction of her great-great-great-great aunt Elladora Black, who she admired for never marrying and devoting her life to academic pursuits. The stern woman had taught defense at Hogwarts for decades, and had invented and patented the blood replenishing potion after a mishap in one of her classes led to a student's near demise. She had the same hair and nose as Hermione.
Narcissa then allowed Hermione to also grab a few tomes, although she insisted the girl also take the ancient book of her family's history along as well. Hermione would have chosen it anyway, but she let her cousin think she was happily following orders.
The three left the vault and were angrily escorted by Grifvindurk across the enormous underground cavern of Gringotts to the le Fay vault. It was hidden in a gloomy, forgotten nook, bordered by vaults that were so ancient their crests were impossible to distinguish. The age of the vaults was obvious also because of the rough-hewn stone around them, the jagged cuts visible. All other caverns had much smoother stone as goblin technology and technique evolved.
"That one there is yours," Executive Grifvindurk gestured. "I don't have a key for it. It can only be opened when you willingly sacrifice your own blood."
Daunted, but ultimately unsurprised by the precautions her ancestor had taken, Hermione allowed Narcissa to use a slicing hex on her palm and then pressed her hand to the vault door. The thick grime immediately melted away to reveal the full glory of the le Fay family crest. A rampant dragon and griffin viciously held their talons to strike each other over a shield dominated solely by a silver crown. The door opened silently under its own power, and Hermione and the Malfoys entered it, hushed by burning curiosity.
The vault was all that remained for her to inherit, as the monetary aspect of Morgan le Fay's holdings had been distributed long ago when no one was able to claim the bounty of the vault by blood. However, Hermione decided, what had been left to her was infinitely more precious.
The vault had some sort of charm at work that made it much larger than the laws of reality allowed, for stretching back into an infinity until shadows kept it from her sight, was a magnificent library. Hermione was so consumed by the view of endless shelves of tomes and scrolls, and she believed stone tablets on one side, that she missed what held Narcissa and Draco's immediate attention.
"Merlin," Narcissa breathed, holding a trembling hand to her breast. She and her son were staring in complete disbelief at a glass case, lit silver by a mysterious source, in the front of the cavernous room.
Within the glass case was a wand.
"That can't be Morgan le Fay's wand," Draco argued. "It's been thousands of years! I thought Merlin destroyed it."
"Legend says he burned it with Fiendfyre to keep another dark witch from rising to challenge him," Hermione explained, "but history is written by the winners, and they love to skew facts."
"What do we do with it?" Draco questioned. "It's got to be powerful."
Hermione sliced her golden eyes to him. "What do I do with it, you mean?" she asked. "It belonged to my ancestor, whether or not it is the wand of lore."
"Her wand was used to create black spells, you can't just have it!" Draco argued.
"Let her do as she wishes," Narcissa cautioned her son. "It is her birthright. What occurs in this vault does not leave this family."
Hermione was suspicious that she was so willing to allow her to regain a wand, but she didn't ask or argue. It was as if a fog had blurred her thoughts as soon as she saw the wand. Her normal faculties were dulled, consumed by her hands burning itch to touch the slim length of wood.
She stepped forward and had to resist the urge to bow to the wand, as though it were a sentient object that demanded respect. Morgan le Fay's wand, according to research, had been made of two woods. The outer shell had been ebony wood, well matched for combative magic and transfiguration, carved with twining thorns. The inner wood was yew, a wood notorious for immense power. The most infamous aspect of the wand, however, was the core. It was rumored to eschew all known wand-making techniques. The legends claimed the wand core was three strands of hair gifted to Morgan le Fay by the warrior goddess of old, Badb. Badb was a Celtic deity known for shapeshifting. She held dominion over life and death, wisdom and inspiration. Her hair would have been ideal for a dark witch to draw power from.
A strange weight fell over Hermione, the fog over her mind receding to the sides until all she could see was the wand. She had the feeling something unfathomably old had just opened its eyes for the first time in eons to look directly at her. Magical kind no longer worshipped the old gods and goddesses, but Hermione felt an otherworldly power place cold hands on her shoulders and push her forward.
Someone, or something, wanted her to grab the wand.
In a trance, Hermione reached into the glass case. The glass allowed her left hand, the witch's hand, to slide through, just as the Black vault's case had done. Her cut palm curved firmly around the embellished handle, and the black wood soaked up her blood greedily. She withdrew the wand from its prison of thousands of years.
The moment the ancient wand had fully left the case, the temperature plummeted. The trio's breath frosted the air as the tip of the wand shot black lightning at its former prison. The glass case shattered. A cool voice, holding the screams of thousands, chuckled darkly.
"Well met, Morrigan," the voice whispered, sliding around Hermione's ears like the dry scrape of a sword cleaving bone.
Her vision blacked, and she was no longer in the vault.