The Trio Who Returned
by Technomad
Chapter 12
The three friends considered, and discarded, various ways to get into the Lestrange vault. "Breaking in is right straight out," Ron said; he'd talked with his brother Bill by Floo. "They've precautions in place that'll fry us if we try it."
"Even now that we are…what we are?" Hermione looked up from a book she had found in the Grimmauld Place library, Jane's Vampires, Liches and Undead of the World. "We can turn into mist, remember?"
"Even so." Ron looked uncommonly grim. "Gringott's has been around for nearly a thousand years, and they've weathered every threat to their damn vaults that the mind of wizard or witch can come up with. If only there were a way in!"
"What makes you think that's so?" Harry had been staring unseeingly out of the window, out across the desolate roofs surrounding Grimmauld Place. The moon was out, half-hidden by scudding clouds, casting a desolate glow on the scene. "Why are you so ready to give up?"
"Go on, Harry," Hermione said, closing her book to pay attention to her friend. "You seem to have an idea. Let us know what it is."
"Bellatrix Lestrange left her vault to her relatives, who're mostly dead. However, Andromeda Tonks is still alive, isn't she?"
"Yes…" Hermione looked thoughtful. "We can go look at the tapestry. But as I remember it, she's the last of the Black sisters still alive."
"And as the closest living relative, I think she'd have a good claim to that vault," Harry said. Hermione and Ron's eyes lit up.
"Yes! The goblins don't care much about human wills. To them, family is all in all. They wouldn't care that Andromeda was disowned!" Ron's eyes lit up. "Let's Floo Tonks and have her talk to her mum!"
When they got through to her on the Floo, Andromeda Tonks proved to be a nice, normal woman, unlike her two crazy evil sisters. "Why, Harry Potter! It's such a pleasure to make your acquaintance at long last! You look so like your father…"
"But I have my mother's eyes," Harry intoned, in chorus with Andromeda. "Look, Madame Tonks, could you step through? My friends and I have a huge favor to ask of you, and it'll take a lot of explaining."
"Of course, darling!" Madame Tonks stepped through the Floo into Grimmauld Place. "Why, Ronald Weasley! Your poor mother's worried sick about you! Why haven't you owled?" She smiled at Hermione. "And is this the little girl that you're so sweet on? My, you are a pretty one!"
"Madame Tonks, this is Hermione Granger. Hermione, this is Madame Tonks. Madame, we've got quite a favor to ask. Would you be willing to put us in your Gringott's vault?"
"In my Gringott's vault? I don't have a Gringott's vault! What are you talking about, Harry Potter? You're looking awfully peaked. Have you been eating right?" She put her hand on Harry's forehead, looking very concerned. "Harry! You're cold as ice! You're not well! What in the world is the matter with you?"
"Sit down, Madame Tonks." Gently, but firmly, Harry led Madame Tonks over to a chair. "This is going to take some explaining…"
After some verbal explanations, and demonstrations of their powers, Madame Tonks was finally convinced that they were what they were. "But, Harry, darling, of course I'll help! You say you can't use owls any more, and can't go out by daylight? I'll be happy to owl my solicitors, and I'm sure Gringott's will see the light!"
"Excellent!" Harry smiled, noting in passing that Madame Tonks paled slightly at the sight of his fangs. "Well, it's late…for you, that is…and we mustn't keep you. As soon as you've got access, let us know." Smiling rather shakily, Madame Tonks shook their hands, and stepped into the Floo to go back to her home.
Once she was gone, they put out the fire, and called Kreacher and Dobby. "Madame Tonks now knows what we are, and how to get in here. We trust her…but we'd rather not take too many chances. During daylight hours, you're to keep this house sealed tight against any intruders, no matter who they are. We're quite helpless during the daylight."
"Kreacher will watch! No bad wizards or witches will get in while Kreacher's on duty!" Kreacher bowed low.
"And Dobby will watch, too! Between Dobby and Kreacher, any bad wizards or witches who try getting in here will rue the day!" Dobby looked as fierce as he could, which wasn't very. Considering that he'd seen Dobby face down Lucius Malfoy, though, Harry knew that looks were deceiving.
"Excellent! We'll be back before sunrise! Come, Ron, Hermione! The game's afoot!" With looks of gloating anticipation, the Trio exited, to find new victims among London's huge criminal class.
OOO
It was about a week later when Harry, Hermione and Ron came in from yet another "hunting expedition"…this one involving luring some muggers into a deserted alley before turning the tables on them…to find a letter waiting for them on the table.
Harry checked it with his wand, before picking it up. "Right. It's not a portkey or anything like that. Let's see what it says!" The others gathered around, curiosity shining from their ruddy, fair, slightly-bloated faces, as Harry casually extruded a long claw and slit the envelope.
Sure enough, it was from Andromeda Tonks. Dear Harry, Hermione and Ron, it began. I spoke with my solicitor, and he spoke in his turn with the solicitors for Gringott's. Apparently the goblins agree that I'm the rightful heir to that vault. Your plan should work; I've got three of the items you need here at my home. Let me know when you want to do this, and we'll take it from there. I can send you a Portkey that'll bring you to my home. Yours truly, Andromeda (Black) Tonks.
"She's as nice as her daughter is. Beats me, how she turned out so nice coming from that family," Ron commented. He grinned unpleasantly. "Good job we didn't tell her what we did with her sister, isn't it?"
"Yes, a good job," Hermione nodded, as she licked her lips at the memory of Narcissa's pure blood and how it had tasted. She had personally drained Narcissa, battening on the woman's throat until th last drops of blood had ceased flowing. Afterwards, she had rhapsodized about the flavor. "Maybe there is something to this pureblood nonsense?" The others had disagreed, saying that Draco and Lucius' blood tasted like the bottom of an old birdcage. Hermione had wondered aloud how they knew what the bottom of an old birdcage would taste like, and that had led to a session of mutual teasing that had nearly trapped them there when daylight came.
"Well, our schedule's free tomorrow. Let's plan on doing it then, shall we?" Harry's idea was met with unanimous approval, and the Trio headed for their coffins in the basement. They knew that with Kreacher and Dobby both on guard, they could sleep securely.
When they awoke, they first hunted, drinking deeply of their victims. "We don't know for sure how long this is going to take, and I don't fancy being incapacitated by my own red thirst," Ron said, wiping blood from his mouth fastidiously.
"Good point." Once all three of them were fed as full as they could get, they contacted Madame Tonks via Floo, and she came on through to Grimmauld Place.
"My, you are looking healthier! See, I made this Portkey. With it, you can go straight to my solicitor's office. He'll be expecting you!" She held out a length of rope. All three of the Trio took hold, and when Madame Tonks triggered it, they were yanked into the office of Mortimer and Sons Solicitors.
Mortimer was a rather weak wizard who had "gone Muggle;" after getting his OWLs he had gone into the Muggle world, ending up taking a degree from a Muggle university and becoming a solicitor. His sons had done the same thing, and all of them had ended up making a good living catering to the wizards in cases where it had to interface with the Muggle world. What with the limited number of solicitors that were cleared to know about magic, they had little competition, and could easily charge scalpers' prices for their services.
Waiting for the Trio were three big boxes; not shaped exactly like coffins, but about as roomy, and padded on the inside. Harry got into his first, and nodded. "It feels all right. Once daylight's on the way, we'll get into these, and you can close the lids." He noticed that the boxes had catches on the inside that would release the lids. Although he and the others could turn into mist, it was rather strenuous to do so, and he preferred not to change shape unless it was necessary.
They sat around the office and waited. At first, the humans were nervous around them, as they sat there, still as predators waiting for prey, but gradually, as the evening wore on, they got used to the vampires' presence. Finally, as the first grey fingers of dawn appeared in the east, they arose, and got into their boxes. The solicitors shut the lids, and they closed the catches holding them shut, and lay back, waiting for the death-like trance of day to take them.
Harry's last thought was a hope that none of the people to whom they were entrusting themselves were treacherous.
Later that morning, Andromeda Tonks showed up at Gringotts' Bank. The goblins knew her as a large-scale depositor, both in her own right and as the sole surviving heiress of the Blacks, so when she informed them, in icily patrician tones, that she was planning a trip out of town and needed to store some boxes containing Black family heirlooms, they eagerly accomodated her.
"And how would Lady Black like these to be stored?" said Griphook, bowing almost double and rubbing his hands as though washing them with invisible soap.
"In the vault formerly belonging to my dead sister, I believe," drawled Andromeda. "I believe there is sufficient room in there for these. I may be back for them soon, though."
"Of course, of course, we are always happy to serve our valued depositors!" Griphook scurried away, calling on lesser gobins to hurry, to take the Lady Black's goods on down to her vault. She insisted on coming along, watching the whole thing like a hawk until the boxes were arranged to her satisfaction. When she was done, she rode back to the surface in the cart, and tipped each goblin enough that they smiled doglike smiles and loudly hoped they'd see her again.
Once she was well away, Andromeda visibly relaxed, with a soft "Whew!" She had been on pins and needles the whole time. She had been deathly afraid lest some goblin security she hadn't known about would reveal what she had just put into her vault, or that some goblin would accidentally or on purpose open one of the boxes.
She thought of the interior of the vault, dark as any tomb. "If anybody should be at home in such a place, they should be," she muttered. She stepped into the Leaky Cauldron and ordered herself a nice stiff drink. Hoisting it in a toast, she muttered: "Best of British to all three of you, and I hope you do find what you're looking for without any mishaps!" She could still think of all sorts of ways things could go badly wrong. She had taken precautions, of course, but still… "Better you than me!"
Inside the vault, all was still until the sun had gone down outside, even though it was far below the surface of the earth. Harry stirred, disoriented for a second, until he remembered what he was doing and lit his wand to find the latches that held his box closed. Lifting the lid, he saw that his two friends were doing the same.
The three friends stood there for a second, their wands illuminating the scene, their mouths open in wonder. All around them were riches incalculable. The Blacks were a wealthy, ancient family, and they had been amassing treasure for centuries. Hermione's eyes opened wide. "Oh, Merlin! Look at those books! These were thought to be lost centuries ago!" She knelt, looking at the spines, reaching out to caress the leather bindings.
"Look at all this gold!" Ron's red eyes shone with greed. "My family could live for centuries on what's in here!"
"Keep focussed, and remember your vows," Harry snapped, unwillingly tearing his eyes away from the wonders that surrounded them. The Trio had had to make some specific, very strictly worded wizarding vows before Andromeda Black would trust them in the vault, even to get rid of a Horcrux belonging to the Dark Lord himself. Harry watched Ron, in particular, with narrowed eyes. Ron wasn't a bad sort…but he had always hated his family's poverty, and wouldn't have been above a little creative redistribution of wealth. Hermione was less prone to temptation, but she bore watching, too.
Reminded of why they were there, Ron and Hermione broke out of their trances, looking around in all directions. They knew what Helga Hufflepuff's cup had looked like; Harry had drawn them a picture, based on his own memories of what he'd seen in Dumbledore's Penseive.
Ron's eyes narrowed. "Is that it, up there?" He pointed to a shelf, on which rested, among other things, a small golden cup.
"Yes, that looks a lot like it. Let me test." Harry cast a spell to reveal magic, and half of the objects in the room began to glow in various colors. The cup glowed, too, but in a different set of colors from anything else; a sickly purple like a bad bruise, combined with the sort of green to be expected on something gone rotten, and a phosphorescent white.
"That should be it, I think." Harry walked over, and reached out to grab the cup. Hermione shrieked.
"Harry! Gloves!" Harry turned, and Hermione tossed him a pair of dragon-hide gloves. "I packed those along in case we needed them. I don't want you touching that thing with your bare flesh. Merlin only knows what sort of protective enchantments it has on it!"
"Oh. I should have thought of that. Thanks, Hermione," Harry smiled, pulling on the gloves. He reached out, and grasped the cup, lifting it easily. "There. That's that. Now, all we have to do is wait. How's your red thirst?"
"Quite bearable," Hermione said.
"I'm all right, for tonight at least," Ron agreed. He smiled ominously. "But when we get let out tomorrow night-!"
"Just keep yourselves under control. The people opening those boxes will be our friends, remember?" With that admonition ringing in their ears, they settled down to wait. Hermione pulled out one of the rare books, sitting there with her wand in her hand and her head bent over the pages, while Ron and Harry started a rather desultory discussion of Quidditch.
END Chapter 12
(Author's note: Sorry this took so long to update, but I had an awful time figuring out a way for them to get into Lestrange's vault. I also got sidetracked by other writing projects.)