Chapter 65: The Third Vault
Harry, Albus, and Minerva stood in the antechamber to the Peverell vaults. Specifically, they were in front of Cadmus Peverell's vault, the one that they could open with the Resurrection Stone.
"So," said Harry, "Anyone know how to open this?"
"Well, we opened your vault by going under the Cloak," said Minerva.
"I opened the vault of Antioch by casting alohomora with the Elder Wand," said Albus.
"Then it stands to reason that we would open this vault by using the Resurrection Stone," concluded Minerva. "Maybe a dead person will appear and open the door for us."
Harry's stomach lurched.
"No," he said. "There must be another way."
He took the stone from Albus and looked at it for a moment. Then he reached out with it and touched it to the center of the circle on the wall. Nothing happened. He put it on his finger, and walked towards the barrier and slammed into it.
"What are you doing, Crockett?"
"I…thought it might be like King's Cross," said Harry sheepishly.
"I think one of us has to, you know, use it," said Minerva.
Harry sighed. It was stupid to have hoped for anything else. "Yeah, but which one of us?"
"You," said Albus and Minerva in unison.
"I don't want to bring back anyone I know from the dead. I don't actually know anyone who's died, really," said Minerva.
"It should be you, Harry, if you're comfortable with it. If you aren't, we don't have to do this," said Albus.
Harry actually found that he didn't mind. He'd come to terms with the deaths of everyone he'd lost. It might be bittersweet seeing Lupin again or his parents or Sirius, but it was something he could handle.
"Alright," he said. "You won't be able to see them. They'll just be here for me…Here goes." He flipped the stone over three times and looked around.
He could tell immediately that it hadn't worked. When he'd used the stone in the Forbidden Forest, he'd felt the presence of the ghosts, but he did not feel it now.
"Did it work?" asked Minerva.
"Er…no," said Harry.
"Harry, are the people you're trying to bring back…have they already passed away?" asked Albus, wording very carefully.
"What do you mean," asked Minerva. "Why would he try to bring people back who weren't already dead?"
"Oh," said Harry. Neither his parents, nor Lupin and Sirius had died yet. "Oops."
Minerva looked thoroughly confused as she still did not, of course, know that Harry was from the future.
Harry cast around for somebody who had died since he'd gone back in time. Only one came to mind.
Wister Bloom.
This was going to be more difficult than Harry thought it was.
He bit his lip.
"Er…I have to bring back Wister."
"Why?" asked Minerva.
"Do you need a moment alone to talk with him?" asked Albus.
Harry grimaced. "Probably."
"Harry—why are you bringing Wister Bloom back? Why do you need a minute to talk to him?" asked Minerva.
"Minerva, I'm from the future so I don't know anyone who's already died in this time except Wister who I accidentally killed, so I need to apologize to him."
"You're so full of shit, Crockett. Will you just give me a straight answer?"
Harry shrugged.
"Let's go, Minerva. Let's go in there…" Albus threw the cloak over himself and Minerva and they vanished. A moment later, their footsteps faded away, and Harry could tell they'd gone into Ignotus's vault.
Harry took a deep breath and turned the stone over three times, all the while worrying about just how messy it was going to be to bring back a man he'd killed.
This time, he knew it worked. He turned around, and there was the former Herbology professor Wister Bloom, with his dirty blond hair and a fitted pastel sweater vest. He looked a few years younger than when Harry had first met him. Perhaps this was his look from a time before he knew Voldemort.
"Hello, Harry," said Wister.
"Wister…I…"
"I know why you brought me here, Harry. I can open the vault."
"No…that's…"
"Don't worry. I understand."
"Wister, I'm so sorry."
"I know," said Wister. He gazed over at Harry, and Harry shrank a little. "I forgive you."
"You…you what?"
"I forgive you. I know how sorry you are, and I know you weren't in your right mind. Just…do me a favor."
"Sure," said Harry.
"Please make sure the Dark Lord doesn't hurt anyone else."
Harry's heart twinged. "I…I can't do that," he said. "I can't promise you that when I know for a fact he will hurt a lot more people."
"I know you can stop him," said Wister.
"I will stop him. It might take me a while, and people will get hurt," said Harry, "But I'll stop him."
"Thank you, Harry. Now, are you ready to go in the vault?"
"Yeah, hold on," said Harry. He turned to face the part of the wall where the triangle was and waved, knowing Albus and Minerva were watching, but not listening. A moment later, they emerged from the cloak outside the vault.
"I can bring them through, too, but they must touch the stone," said Wister.
"Alright, he says you have to touch the stone," Harry told Minerva and Albus.
Minerva and Albus crossed the antechamber and each put a finger on the stone in Harry's hand.
"Oh!" said Minerva. "Wister! Is it really you?"
Wister nodded.
"You can see him?" asked Harry, surprised.
Minerva nodded. "Yes. Albus, can you see him?"
Albus's eyes were wide, and he'd gone completely white as if…as if he'd seen a ghost. He wasn't looking at Wister, but at a point in space about four feet off the ground. Harry and Minerva watched him. He stood completely still, his eyes never moving.
"Albus, are you alright?" asked Minerva.
Harry's look silenced her.
Albus eyes remained fixed on the spot, emotions roiling under his face like an ocean. But then he smiled, and a tear trickled down his cheek.
"Thank you," he whispered. "I promise." And then walked into the third vault, pulling Harry and Minerva with him.
They headed straight into the solid wall with the circle on it, but like King's Cross, they walked straight through it.
On the other side was a large, round room, and the first thing Harry noticed was a rather noisy chatter. All around the room were giant, larger than life portraits, and most of them were having conversations.
Then a beautiful woman in one of the portraits spotted the trio and shrieked.
"Visitors!"
The portraits went silent immediately.
"Er…hello," said Harry after a few seconds.
"Hello, good day," said all of the portraits respectfully. There seemed to be a purposefully affected sense of solemnity in their overall tone. It made Harry feel like he was the next of kin at a funeral.
"Who are all of you?" asked Minerva.
"We are portraits of those who have been brought back with the Stone," said an old man in the portrait closest to them. "It's an automatic magical process."
"Oh," said Minerva. "Thanks."
"Are there any records of the previous owners of the Stone?" asked Albus softly.
"There is a writing desk over there," said the man. He pointed across the room.
Harry looked around the room properly for the first time. The whole room was about the size of a quidditch pitch. There was the writing desk. Apart from the large portraits on the walls, the only things in the room were a writing desk where the man had pointed, and an old armchair in front of a few portraits to their left.
"When did you live?" asked Albus of the man.
"I was born in 1792, and my son brought me back. It turns out, he just needed to ask where I put the keys to the shop before I died." The man chuckled. "He did say a proper goodbye, though."
Harry, Albus, and Minerva thanked him, and made their way over to the desk.
Half way there, someone called out to them, and the three of them stopped.
"You there, who are you?" said a deep, posh voice.
"Er…I'm Harry," said Harry. "Who are you?"
"Arthur. King Arthur of Britain. Are you a wizard?"
"Yeah," said Harry. "Um…you weren't a wizard, were you?"
"No, sir, I am not, though I did have certain dealings with one or two."
"Oh," said Harry. Arthur came on pretty strong, and Harry found himself overwhelmed.
"Well? Go about your way, sir."
"Er…nice to meet you," said Harry. "Your grace," he added.
The three continued to the desk.
Behind the desk itself was a beautiful woman with long, dark hair.
"Hello," said Albus to the portrait. "My name is Albus."
"I am Annabelle."
"You knew Cadmus," said Albus.
She nodded.
"May we look in the desk?" asked Albus.
"You may," she said. "The writings of all of Cadmus and the visitors (few as they have been), are for you to read."
"Thank you," Albus said.
He knelt in front of the desk, pulled out the bottom drawer and lifted what looked like a manuscript out of it. He flipped through the pages.
"What is it?" asked Minerva.
"This looks like the story of someone's life." Albus looked up at the portrait of Annabelle. "Is there somebody here named Elizabeth Wells?"
"Yes," she said. "She joined us in the fourteenth century. Her portrait is there." Annabelle pointed to her right.
"Thank you," said Albus, and he put the stack of pages back into the drawer.
Harry drew open another drawer, and found a broad leather-bound notebook there. He flipped it open and found dozens of charcoal drawings, mostly of one young man with dark curly hair, a sweet smile and hopeful eyes.
"Oh!" said Minerva.
"What is it?" asked Harry.
"I found Cadmus's journal." She flipped it open. "It's in runes. Would you like me to translate?"
"That would be wonderful, thank you," said Albus.
Minerva flipped to a random page and began reading. "'My brother Ignotus has confiscated the Mirror of Desire from me—'"
"Oh, the Mirror of Erised? I wonder if that's the same thing. They must have gotten it backwards in translation," said Harry. "The Mirror of Erised is in Ignotus's vault."
"'He worries for my health, spending time in front of it as I do. He does not understand the longing I feel…But how dare he remove an object of my own creation? I should have left it in my vault rather than in our home where he could find and take it. It matters not. Soon I will finish creating an object that will render my mirror obsolete.'"
"I presume he is discussing his plans to create the Stone," said Albus.
"Then they must have had these vaults before the Hallows existed," said Minerva.
"Keep reading," said Harry.
Minerva flipped a few pages. "'My hallowed Stone of Resurrection nears completion. My brothers, too, are finishing lifelong projects. We have each selected these items to be the keys to our vaults, and together they shall open the gates to our home.' Don't we have all three? We could go look at their house."
"Flip to the end," said Harry.
Minerva glared at him, and turned to the last page with writing.
"'I am now sorry I ever tried to disturb my Annabelle's peace. She deserves more than to be a ghost in this ghastly world. I know now that there is only one way I will truly be with her again.
"'I have left the stone with a jeweler. I have asked that he set the stone in a ring. I care not what he does with it when he discovers I am gone. In fact, I leave it with him because I know not what else is to be done with it.
"'The last words I wish to write are of my love for Annabelle. My passion for her will transcend even death.'"
Minerva stopped reading.
"That's all," she said.
They were quiet for a moment.
"It didn't seem so horrible in a Children's story," she said.
"At least you didn't have to watch."
All three of them looked up, for it was Annabelle who had spoken. Her beautiful painted face was tear streaked from listening to Minerva read. "I begged him not to; everybody has a time, and rushing to that time is horrible."
"I'm so sorry," whispered Albus.
Harry wondered how often it was that a dead person had to be consoled about someone dying.
"I have seen enough," said Albus.
Minerva nodded once.
"It has been an honor, Annabelle."
Annabelle nodded to Albus and smiled. "We'll take care of her."
"Thank you," said Albus.
And with that, Harry, Albus, and Minerva began walking back towards the exit. Harry puzzled about what Annabelle's last words meant until they passed the one and only armchair. Harry looked up at the portraits in front of it. Wister Bloom stood in one, looking like a Madam Malcolm's model, and in the other, smiling down at them, was Arianna Dumbledore.