Chapter 43: Ten Galleons

Harry and Albus sat in the vault for what felt like a long time. Harry drew spirals in the dust with his fingers while watching Albus trace circles on the face of the watch. Finally, Albus clicked the watch open and stared at the planets. He sighed deeply and turned to Harry.

"It's time to go," he said with a wistful smile.

Harry didn't question him. They rose from their sitting positions and left the vault.

The walk out of the vault didn't seem nearly as long as the walk in. Perhaps this was because it was Harry's second time walking through, or maybe the vault just seemed less empty to Harry with Albus there, but Harry and Albus were back in the antechamber in no time. Once they were out of the vault, the sides of the wall slid together and slammed shut unkindly.

They stared at each other for a moment before Harry groaned. "Why the blazes did you go in there?"

"Ah…Because it was there," said Albus.

"And why—how are you here?"

"I…it occurred to me that you'd mentioned a vault after you appeared in my closet with Minerva…So I decided I should pay Gringotts a visit. I…didn't expect this, to say the least. The goblins were kind enough to give me a ride down. They weren't as generous with the ride back up."

"And how were you planning on getting out?"

Albus suddenly looked embarrassed. "I'm a fairly accomplished swimmer," he said, a faint pink tinge rising on his cheeks.

Harry looked at him blankly for a moment before burying his face in his hands again. "Albus, Albus…"

"As you may have guessed, I was somewhat distracted. The prospects were too…enticing for me to think of anything else."

"Enticing..."

"How did you find me?"

"I saw you go in," said Harry. "You probably guessed, because I'm here, that I have a…er…key."

Albus's eyes snapped to Harry's at once. "Which one?"

Harry was frightened by what he saw there in Albus's eyes: a mixture of hope, rage, and fear. "The cloak," said Harry.

"Oh, of course. You wore it…I remember…I should have known…" Albus slumped. Harry couldn't tell if Albus was disappointed or relieved, and neither could Albus, for that matter. "When did you find this?" He gestured around at the vaults.

"About two months ago. That night we were in your wardrobe was the first time I came here," said Harry

"And you knew about my wand."

Harry paused. "Yes."

"And…how did you gather that information?"

"Well, you sort of told me."

"Sort of?"

"Sort of."

"Did I also sort of tell you about Gellert and…my sister?" he asked in a deep voice, looking at Harry over the top of his glasses.

"Well, yeah. Sort of," admitted Harry.

"And what am I to gather?" asked Albus, agitated. "I sort of told you all of this—was it with my dying breath? Was there some sort threat?"

Harry suddenly became very aware of this conversation's similarity to other conversations he'd had with his Professor Dumbledore, who always gave the vaguest of answers. He couldn't help but chuckle at Albus for getting a taste of his own medicine. These were the sort of questions Harry would ask Albus to receive ambiguous replies. "Well, sort of, actually."

"And am I to understand that—Harry, why are you laughing?"

"Sorry, I just—" Harry lost it again laughing. Relief was washing over him that Albus wasn't in danger, and Albus's agitation reminded him so much of himself that even biting his lip and thinking of dead pygmy-puffs couldn't stop him. He soon found himself pinned to a wall by hands and magic.

"You should be very glad I trust you," growled Albus.

Harry took that as a sign that Albus was irritated but knew Harry meant no harm. Albus let Harry down from the wall and straightened his own glasses. "I presume your vanishing cabinets are in the vault?" asked Albus. Harry nodded. "Shall we, then?"

Harry pulled out the cloak. "You have to get under this to go through," he said. Albus came nearer and Harry swept the cloak around the both of them. The door to Ignotus's vault vanished.

"Are you ready to see a real Peverell vault, Albus?"

"How quickly my frustration with you fades," muttered Albus. "Yes."

Together they walked through the door and into the sitting room. Harry ducked out from under the cloak.

No sooner was his head visible than Minerva shrieked, "You bastard!"

"Orphan, actually," corrected Harry. Minerva flew at Harry and her fist connected with Harry's cheek.

Harry stumbled backwards away from Minerva, dragging the invisibility cloak off Albus. "Restrain yourself, Minerva," commanded Albus.

Harry slid down the wall behind him, massaging his jaw.

"Oh, Albus! I didn't see you, well, obviously, because…Um, so you're alright, I…"

"Hello, Minerva," said Albus, convinced that Minerva was done attacking Harry. "Harry didn't tell me you were here."

"Sorry, forgot," said Harry from the floor, wincing from the pain caused by speaking.

"So, er…you're ok, then? Nothing scary in the vault?" Minerva asked Albus.

Albus took a breath. "Nothing at all, actually," he said quietly.

"Oh! Well, there's loads in here! I can show you around!"

"Ah, actually I think I would like some quiet just now," said Albus with a small smile. Harry could hear the strain and fatigue in his voice.

Harry got up. "I could do with a cabinet myself. Minerva?"

Minerva pressed her lips together. "Alright."

Harry walked over to the now three cabinets that stood along one wall. "Albus, this will take you to your rooms. This one goes to Minerva's, and this one goes to mine."

"Thank you, Harry." Albus pulled the wardrobe door open. Harry dashed over to him before he could go inside.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked quietly, with a hand on the small of Albus's back.

Albus looked at Harry over his glasses for a moment. He looked away. "I'll be fine." He stepped into the cabinet and closed the door.

Harry turned back to Minerva.

"What was that all about?" she asked.

"I should like to ask you the same thing," he replied glaring.

"Sorry."

"Don't worry about it—and don't worry about the other bit either," said Harry. For once, Minerva didn't press him. She was looking at the ground. Harry frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she said. "It's just…are you still going to need my help with the vault now that he knows?"

Harry laughed. "If it were about needing help, you wouldn't be here, Minerva. I'm not going to replace you with him, if that's what you're worried about. I've fit three people under the cloak before—ahh, unless you fancied spending the time alone with me," he joked.

"I just thought you'd use this to spend more time alone with him, you know," she said seriously.

"Well, I won't."

"So you would like to spend more time alone with him in general?"

"What?"

"You know, under his desk?"

"What?"

Minerva laughed and then stepped into the cabinet that led to her room. "You know, I bet he'll have a fit when he sees in that room…Giddy and short of breath and all that."

"Albus? Nah. He'll take it with a calm, intellectual interest. Very cool. Superior."

"Ten galleons."

"Done."

Minerva shut the door behind her and vanished.

Harry rubbed his face and realized his jaw was still aching. He healed it, and, lost in thought, climbed into his own wardrobe and allowed himself to be whisked away.

Harry arrived back in the castle shortly after lunch. He conjured his own food and ate it alone in his tower. He spent the rest of the day there, drawing up brackets for the tournament and listening to the Beatles' White Album on repeat (always skipping the bits where Yoko sang). By the fourth time Blackbird came on, darkness had fallen and Harry was craving some fresh air. He threw his window open, and vanished his clothing a split second before changing into a bird and launching himself out the window.

In the month he'd been an animagus, Harry had perfected the technique of transforming quickly into and out of his form. He'd also learned to vanish his clothing a split second before transforming, and conjure it back before his modesty could be compromised.

Flying in his Red Kite form had become his stress relief the way his broom flights used to be. Though his bird form wouldn't carry him as fast as a lightning broom, he found he preferred his own wings. He had even more control, and there was nothing beneath him but air.

Sometimes, when he went into a particularly steep dive or was caught by a strong gust, he felt Fawkes itch to take over. Fawkes loved riding along with Harry in the Kite form, but Harry knew Fawkes craved real phoenix wings. He was never pushy or obvious about it, but it was more or less common sense, and if Harry couldn't give Fawkes his own body back, he'd work on getting one to share.

But for now, Harry just flew. He pitched and plummeted over the forest, and skimmed over the clouds to see the stars.

As he flew, he contemplated his morning. Albus knew about the vaults. This turned out to be more of a load off of Harry's mind than a problem. Harry had been a little paranoid in thinking that Albus would immediately start grilling Harry about the Stone.

He cringed when he remembered laughing at Albus's questions in relief to find out Albus was okay. When he thought about it, that was a might insensitive. He and Minerva both weren't exactly the best first-aid for Albus's re-opened wounds, and Harry didn't like the way he'd left things.

He spent hours out contemplating and exercising in the dark, his wings never tiring, but he knew he had to go back; he had to teach first years in the morning.

He swooped back to his tower, alighting on the window.

"Hello, Harry." Harry jumped and fell backwards out of the window in shock. He caught himself just above the ground and flew back up to the window to find Albus looking out worriedly. Albus backed off and Harry landed on the sill, transformed back and simultaneously clothed himself, and crouched in the window in human form in his pajamas.

"I'm sorry if I startled you," said Albus.

"If you startled me?"

"I'm sorry for startling you."

Harry sniffed. "Apology accepted. Er…What's the time?" Harry asked, suddenly wondering why Albus was in his tower so late in the evening.

Albus pulled out the pocket watch. "Half past nine. Come in?"

Harry laughed. "Thanks." He hopped down from the window frame and crossed into the room, passing Albus. "So," he said turning to face Albus. "What brings you to my…abode, Albus?" He took a step closer to Albus. "You are Albus, right?" Harry poked him a few times in the chest to pick up a touch of his aura. It was Albus.

Albus allowed himself to be poked in the chest. "Yes. I am Albus. If you need more proof…" Albus gently circled the wrist of the hand Harry was using to poke him with his own hand. Harry was suddenly flooded with Albus's aura through the touch.

His eyes rolled back into his head. "Yah-ha-yow, ok, ok, ok, it's you, I get it," he laughed, voice higher than normal. Albus pulled away, smirking slightly. "You know, I figured that out from the, you know," Harry mimed poking.

"Yes, well, I wanted to make sure," said Albus. "My nose has been broken enough times. Also, I love expanding my vocabulary."

"Sorry?"

"Yah-ha-yow," said Albus. "Is that an incantation?"

Harry turned pink. "So, what brings you here?"

"Oh, well, I…Wanted to…"

"Yes?" asked Harry.

"Well, I was wondering if your offer...the vault…"

"You want to see it?" asked Harry.

"Well, it's late and…I'd understand if…And it's your own…Well…and Minerva…"

"Albus, I've wanted to show you that vault for months. If you want to see it, I will take you right now. To the vault, that is."

Albus beamed.

"Are you sure you're ready to see it?" asked Harry. Albus nodded. "In that case," Harry summed his cloak with a snap of his fingers. "Step under my cloak."

Albus and Harry vanished under the invisibility cloak and Harry guided Albus into the cabinet. They opened the door back up again, stepped into the vault's living room, and pulled off the cloak.

"Welcome, again, to the vault of Ignotus Peverell," said Harry. "In that desk there are letters from all the previous owners. The furniture was put here by William Stuart, the Magical Advisor of King George III in 1811. The three wardrobes, here, as you know go back to Hogwarts. The three smaller cabinets there have more letters."

"Goodness. I'd guess there are some magnificently interesting people in there. A living room full of history! May I look through some of it? I bet there would be some people—"

"Albus…You haven't asked about the door, there." Harry grinned.

"Which door where? Oh, no. I hadn't seen it. Dear Harry, do tell me what's behind that door, there."

Harry's grin grew larger. "Oh, I think not, dear Albus. It's best to see—that is, if you think you're ready."

"Is it more letters?"

Harry chuckled and led Albus by the hand.

"Are you ready?" he repeated.

"Yes! Yes, already!"

Harry laughed at his impatience. "Then let me show you…" He turned the handle with deliberate slowness and pulled the door open. "Monsieur…"

Albus stepped through and Harry followed after. Albus stood stock still. His mouth fell open with a gasp as he surveyed the room. Harry smiled.

"Have you met Rumbleroar?" Harry pointed to the suit of armor and its accompanying lion armor.

"Sweet Merlin, is that real?"

"Yes, it's real, as is Gryffindor's suit of armor, but I thought you'd like the books better. It turns out, Merlin wrote a lot of journals, but they were never published due to the fact that they were mostly written backwards. Apparently this one," Harry slotted out a leather-bound book from a shelf right next to him, "…is about wandless magic, if you're interested in trying to make it out."

Albus took one, two, three breaths and then toppled onto Harry in a dead faint.

"Damn, I owe Minerva ten galleons. Fearless leader of the light, indeed," Harry chuckled as he gently lowered Albus to the ground thinking he should just conjure up a museum during the upcoming tournament duel to incapacitate Albus.

After Harry'd spent about two or three minutes making Albus more and more comfortable on the ground (he'd considered conjuring a mattress, but thought that would be a bit too weird), Albus made a little noise and opened his eyes.

"Albus?" Harry sat down beside him.

"Goodness, what happened?"

"Well, there was this troll."

"Really?"

"No. You saw the inside of the vault and passed out."

"Ah, yes. Now I remember. Could it be stated for the record that it was a sort of euphoric loss of consciousness rather than…crippling fear?"

"Don't worry. The record states 'Albus Dumbledore swoons into the arms of his dashing friend.' There's nothing about…crippling fear."

"Oh, well now, maybe we could change that to, 'Albus Dumbledore was overcome by his passion for knowledge in the face of the most important find of the millennium—'"

Harry snorted, but then looked seriously at Albus. "Please don't tell anyone about this vault, by the way. I wasn't keeping it quiet just for your sake. I don't want to be famous again."

"Not to mention, the Potters might become alarmed if their vault was suddenly public knowledge. Do they know about it?"

"I hadn't thought about it," said Harry. "I suppose they could come in here at any moment…"

"Have you found a letter from your grandparents?"

"Not yet, but we're only about a quarter way through the letters. Sometimes they skip generations, too."

"It seems to me that this vault was never supposed to be made public. It seems like a family secret, and I am grateful to you for sharing it with me."

"Yeah, well, I really should have let you swim back out." They both laughed. "Well, you know, the best way to get out is on the back of a dragon," said Harry. "They've all gone blind so they won't try to eat you or anything once you're on their backs."

"You speak from experience?"

Harry winked. "You never know. Now, I am going to cleverly distract you from my theoretical life of crime by this spectacular vault. Come have a look at the chart Minerva and I are making."

And thus they spent their evening.