Chapter Text
Chapter Thirty-Three: Time will tell
In the time it took for Sirius to finish reading the document with the assistance of the dictionary, Harry’s key to the Potter vault and his trust vault had been prepared and handed over.
When Sirius finally laid the document down in front of Harry, stating, “It’s fine to sign,” he still seemed to be in a state of shock. His grey eyes drifted over to the still open scroll, where the name Morgan le Fay rested innocently on the old parchment.
Harry picked up the Blood Quill, and where Sirius was pointing, he signed his name slowly, focusing determinedly on not letting his hands shake. Like last time, the back of his writing hand burned with pain, and his name briefly appeared, engraved into the skin.
Skarde accepted the document with an air of satisfaction, declaring, “It is done. You have now formally claimed the Peverell family vault, and Peverell Castle. If you’ll accompany me down to the vault, there will be instructions in there as to how to access your new property.”
Ragnold remained behind to tidy up the room and put the documents back where they belonged, while Skarde himself escorted Harry and Sirius back into the main hall of Gringotts. He led them straight through the foyer towards a large door at the very back of the chamber.
Skarde placed his hand on the door, and the entire rim of the door lit up brightly with what looked like runes.
Some of the goblins working looked up in undisguised shock at seeing the head goblin lead two humans to this door – obviously the clients of the bank were not normally invited into this space.
The door swung open, and behind it was what looked like an unassuming antechamber of plain stone. It contained only an old elevator, with an intricate metal grill. After ushering Sirius and Harry into the antechamber, Skarde shut the door back into the foyer, hiding them from the many curious eyes looking in. He moved over to the elevator, opening it up with a screech of metal on metal.
He then gestured for Harry and Sirius to step into the elevator, which they did.
Sirius commented, “I did not realise there was elevator access to the vaults,” with a questioning tone.
Skarde answered over the screech of the grill as he shut it again, “There is to this one.”
“How do you usually get to the vaults?” Harry asked, keeping one eye on Skarde, who pressed his hand to a panel. The panel lit up with the glow of again what looked like runes, and the elevator jerked and stared to descend.
“There are mine carts that take you down,” Sirius explained. Harry thought that sounded rather exciting, and was slightly disappointed they were taking a sedate elevator down to the Peverell vault.
For about three minutes they descended in silence, the passing glow of lanterns marking their descent down deep underneath Gringotts. Harry’s ears started to pop at the change in pressure.
“Just how far down is this vault?” Sirius asked Skarde.
Skarde glanced over, and replied noncommittally, “It is the deepest vault we manage. It was here long before the goblin Gringott built this bank.”
Sirius’ eyes widened and he asked, “How did it come to be managed by the bank?”
Skarde replied, “Gringott built the bank where it is, because of the existence of the Peverell vault at this site. It is the first wizarding vault that the goblin nation came to manage.” The head goblin looked meaningfully at Harry as he said, “So our legends go, before the Dark Lady Morgana died, she requested the goblin nation manage her family’s affairs. She tasked us with guarding the Peverell vault, her descendant’s inheritance. This task we have continued to perform throughout the ages.”
After an indeterminate amount of time had passed, the elevator slowly came to a halt, shuddering as it finally reached the lowest point underneath Gringotts.
Skarde pushed the metal grill open, and led the way out of the elevator, into what was pitch-black darkness beyond. However, as Harry squinted he noticed dots of pale greenish-blue light illuminating the space beyond, which seemed to be a tunnel. As Skarde moved forward out of the elevator, Harry realised those small lights were in fact hundreds of glowing crystals.
Harry thought it was beautiful – he followed after Skarde eagerly, eyes roving over the crystals.
Sirius squinted at the nearest crystal, before his eyes widened and he exclaimed, “Are these Core Crystals?”
Skarde did not look back at he continued moving down the tunnel, simply stating, his voice echoing, “Yes.”
Harry asked Sirius quietly, “What are Core Crystals?”
Sirius seemed to shake his head, accepting the fact he was living in an actual fairy tale now. “Core Crystals are rare – when I mean rare, I mean the Black family owns a tiny shard of one, which is set in a ring. There are no known mines that produce these things. Families jealously hoard any that are in their possession,” Sirius began, eyes focused on the gently glowing crystals that lined the tunnel. “They are the only known item capable of storing a person’s magic, indefinitely. You can pour your magic into one of these things, and it will stockpile it forever, without it fading. Now imagine if you kept storing magic every day, and so did your children, and your children’s children?”
Harry’s eyes were wide. “So that’s why it’s called a Core Crystal – it acts like a magical core, storing a person’s magic?”
“Exactly,” Sirius confirmed. “You can draw from a Core Crystal to perform great acts of magic you would be otherwise incapable of doing. The legends say a single cultivated Core Crystal could even bring someone back from the brink of death.”
Harry stared with new appreciation at the crystals lining the tunnel. Sirius claimed they were not mined anywhere in the world, yet here there were hundreds.
“These are priceless,” Sirius called out to Skarde, trying to understand the situation. “They belong to Gringotts, right? Why not mine them?”
Skarde paused, Harry having to stop abruptly to avoid running into the back of the goblin. He looked back at Sirius, expressionless, the greenish-blue light of the crystals making his eyes almost seem to glow strangely.
“Gringotts do not own these crystals,” he said slowly. His eyes slid to Harry. “As of today, Mr Potter does.”
He gestured around them at the tunnel and stated, “This tunnel forms part of the Peverell vault. As I said, this was all here a long time before Gringotts was built.” A dangerous look came across his face, making it look quite severe as he added, “To mine the crystals would not only disrespect the memory of the Dark Lady Morgana who entrusted us with caring for her legacy, but would also simply be theft.”
Skarde looked intently at Harry and added, “If Mr Potter wishes the Core Crystals to be mined, that can be arranged.”
Harry looked helplessly up at Sirius, having no clue how to respond. They were apparently priceless, not to mention extremely useful. But it felt wrong somehow to turn this space into a mining operation. The crystals were obviously naturally occurring here, and something about it made Harry hesitate to agree.
Sirius waited patiently, not wanting to pressure Harry either way.
At last, Harry said to Skarde, “I am not interested in any mining right now. I want to leave everything as it is.”
Skarde nodded, and there was a light of approval in his eyes as he said, “Very well, Mr Potter. Let us continue to the Peverell vault.”
They kept walking, Sirius shaking his head slightly in awe as he gazed around at the Core Crystals embedded in the walls and roof of the tunnel. There was a particularly strong glow coming from the end of the tunnel, and as they neared Harry could see there was a round archway of the crystals, and complete darkness beyond.
Reverently, Skarde told them in the hush of the tunnel, “There is ancient magic here, originally laid by the Dark Lady Morgana herself and added to by Prince Aeron Peverell. Mr Potter, as the Dark Lady's direct descendant and with a dark magical core, will be able to cross the threshold, but we can go no further.”
“Wait,” Sirius said, a protective hand coming to Harry’s shoulder. “What do you mean we can’t go with him?”
Skarde explained, a little impatiently, “There is a powerful protection around this archway. Only those of the Dark Lady’s bloodline with a dark magical core can cross it. Anyone else will be rejected.”
“I don’t want my godson going in there alone, he’s eight,” Sirius said firmly. “This place is positively ancient, as you said. The vault could be dangerous - there could be magic inside there that we don’t even understand.”
Skarde spread his hands, stating, “Entering the vault is the only way to receive the instructions on where to locate Peverell Castle and the Isle of Avalon. We goblins do not have that information.”
Harry felt torn – on the one hand he wanted to see what was inside the vault, and learn where Peverell Castle was. However, he also felt nervous about walking into that unnaturally black void before him, where the glow of the Core Crystals did not touch. And Sirius was right – they had no idea what could be inside the vault. If anything happened to Harry no one could come and help him.
Sirius crouched down so he could be at eye level with Harry. He rested his hands on Harry’s shoulders. Staring intently into his godson’s eyes, which were glowing especially green in the light of the crystals, Sirius said carefully, “I want you to accept this legacy. But not if it puts your safety at risk. Do you understand? I can’t let you go through with this, at least not when you are this young.”
“I understand,” Harry replied with a whisper, forcing his disappointment down. He knew Sirius was right.
“I promise you Harry, when you are old enough, you can come back here. I understand I technically can’t stop you right now, because you legally own this vault,” Sirius said, ignoring Skarde who nodded along. “But I am asking you to promise me you won’t come back here until we agree you are old enough to face whatever might be in that vault.”
Harry kept Sirius’ gaze, as he replied softly, “I promise to wait until I’m older – but how old exactly?”
It was a fair question – Sirius pondered it briefly before saying, “It would be best for you to be seventeen so that you can freely perform magic if you need to without alerting the Ministry-”
Skarde snorted contemptuously, stating, “The Ministry’s Trace does not operate here.”
“In that case,” Sirius replied slowly, “I would think at fifteen you would have enough experience to hold your own.”
Harry sighed – that was seven years away. He glanced longingly back at the dark archway, a mixture of burning curiosity and apprehension inside him.
“Fifteen,” he responded slowly. “But if we both agree I’m ready sooner, then I can enter the vault earlier than fifteen,” he bargained.
Sirius narrowed his eyes slightly at Harry, but he replied, “Only if we both agree.”
“Deal,” Harry said at last.
“Very well then,” Skarde said, displeased Harry was not entering the vault now, but also looking slightly approving of Harry’s negotiation with Sirius. “I will escort you both back to the main floor of Gringotts. Will you be examining the Potter vault today?”
Seeing the overwhelmed look on Harry’s face, Sirius shook his head and replied as he rose back to his feet, “No thank you, we will return another day to examine the Potter vault.”
Harry shot his godfather a grateful look, and the trio began walking back up the tunnel towards the elevator, their path illuminated by the hundreds of priceless Core Crystals, which seemed to watch over their progress.
Before they got too far away, Harry spared a look back over his shoulder at the pitch-black abyss of the archway that led to the Peverell vault. He would be back one day, hopefully not too far in the future.
Morgana’s legacy would have to wait.
Sirius had offered to take Harry home if he wanted time to process what they had discovered, but Harry had still been determined to at least browse Diagon Alley. Conscious his time was running out under the Polyjuice Potion, Sirius had agreed to an hour or so of browsing.
Harry had been particularly enamoured with Quality Quidditch Supplies and the bookshop, Flourish and Blotts. He had also lingered for a while at Eeylops Owl Emporium, admiring the beautiful owls for sale. Sirius had trailed after Harry good naturedly, allowing his godson to take his time and go wherever he pleased.
He did though steer Harry away from the entrance to Knockturn Alley when it looked like his wandering feet might take him there.
At last they arrived at the famous Ollivanders. Harry stared in awe through the dusty shop window, seeing all of the boxes stacked high inside the shop, all the wands that had yet to find their partners. He couldn’t want to turn eleven and get his own wand.
There was an old man inside putting away some of the thin boxes, with snow white hair. He paused in his task and turned suddenly to look straight at Harry through the window. His eyes were an intense blue. Harry looked away, shy at having been caught staring through the window like a small child looking into a candy store.
“Let’s get ice cream before we go – Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour is just around the corner from here,” Sirius suggested, after a quick tempus to check the time.
Harry laughed, replying, “It’s November, Sirius.”
“There’s never a good reason not to have ice cream,” Sirius declared with a sniff. Then he added quietly, “Sam, remember.” His grey eyes flicked over to the nearest shopper, an older woman who was examining a telescope on display outside of a store.
“Sorry – Sam,” Harry corrected himself, with a bashful grin.
Sirius led the way to a charming parlour, where they purchased their ice creams, taking seats under the brightly coloured umbrellas outside, and wrapping their cloaks tightly around them to beat the chill.
Sirius cast a nonverbal warming charm on Harry, and his godson smiled at him gratefully, easing into the warmth as he contently ate his ice cream.
As they ate, Sirius asked Harry quietly after subtly casting an anti-eavesdropping charm around them, “Before we go home, I wanted to ask you if you want the information about the Peverell estate to stay between us.”
Harry considered it as he ate his ice cream, before replying, “I don’t mind grandfather knowing. Or Gareth and Rosie – but other than that I don’t want to make a big deal out of it.”
Sirius nodded in understanding, saying, “We will only tell those people then.” He hesitated, before adding, “I wished to wait until the Black family gathering had passed before suggesting this – but there is someone I would like you to meet. Next weekend when you’re with me, if possible.”
Harry titled his head to one side, asking, “Who?”
“Remus Lupin,” Sirius said. Harry immediately knew whom Sirius was talking about – the man from his parents’ photo albums, their school friend. And also, this was the man who had been an alternative guardian for Harry if his parents and Sirius had been unable to take care of him.
“I’d be happy to meet him,” Harry replied. “Are you still close with him?”
Sirius mulled over Harry’s question before replying slowly, “There’s a lot to catch up on after seven years. But we’re getting there.”
“I’m glad,” Harry said with a smile.
“Right, well I’ll arrange the meeting then – it might be at Black Castle, or it could be in Edinburgh, where Remus lives,” Sirius explained.
Harry’s eyes widened with excitement and he said, “I’ve never been to Scotland before.”
Sirius informed him, “You’ll be spending a fair bit of time in Scotland once you turn eleven – Hogwarts is there of course.”
“I can’t wait,” Harry said, eyes shining.
In less than three years his magical education would begin, and he could really start making a difference in society, and prove to the public that there was nothing evil about dark witches and wizards.
“I know that look on your face,” Sirius said, gesturing with what was left of his ice cream. “Your head is miles away planning some lofty goals right?”
Harry blushed at being caught out, taking another bite of his ice cream to hide his embarrassment, rather than replying.
“I’m proud of you, kid,” Sirius said warmly.
Harry smiled back, but his smile faltered as he noticed Sirius’ eyes were grey, not brown as they had been before.
“Siri- um, Sam – your eyes. I think you’re starting to turn back,” Harry warned him, stumbling over what name to address Sirius with.
Sirius sighed, finishing off his ice cream quickly and stating, “That’s our cue then to get going. I’m sorry we even need the subterfuge to enjoy a day out.”
Harry finished his ice cream as they walked briskly back to the Leaky Cauldron, his free hand nervously flattening down his hair over his scar. No one paid them any attention though.
It was frustrating the media were so fixated on he and his godfather, as Sirius had pointed out. Harry wondered if this was going to become the norm for him, having to sneak around hiding his identity.
Thank Morgana for his Metamorphmagi ability – he was certain it would be a blessing in the years to come when avoiding detection from the public and the media.
When Sirius escorted Harry back to the Greengrass home after dinner that evening they were greeted in the parlour room by an exuberant Daphne, who immediately seized Harry’s hand dragging him away to interrogate him about meeting Draco and how the Black family gathering had gone the day before.
Gareth and Rosie, who had also both been in the room had made half-hearted attempts to get Daphne to give Harry some breathing space, but their determined daughter had already abducted him out of the room.
“I apologise for that,” Rosie said, exasperation on her face. “She’s been on tenterhooks all weekend wanting to ask Harry about his day yesterday.”
“That’s fine, I was actually hoping to talk with you both privately,” Sirius replied.
Gareth had led the now familiar way to his study and Sirius had wasted no time telling the couple what had been discovered that day at Gringotts, and that Harry had given permission for them to know about it.
The Greengrass couple were just as awe-struck as Sirius had been, and Arcturus too when Sirius had told him earlier that afternoon.
“Grandfather told me we have no Peverells in our family line as far as we know. Do you know of any ancestors in the Greengrass or Yaxley family lines?” Sirius asked them.
Rosie understood then why Sirius was asking. “You’re hoping you can find another descendant of Morgana you trust to escort Harry into the Peverell vault.”
Sirius nodded, replying, “I know Fleamont Potter’s younger sister married into the Diggory family, but Amos Diggory is no dark wizard, and he married a Fawley so his son must be a neutral or light wizard. Only a dark witch or wizard is capable of crossing the threshold into the vault.”
“There are no Peverells in the Greengrass family,” Gareth told Sirius apologetically. “I am quite well-versed in my family line.”
“I would have to ask my father to check the Yaxley records,” Rosie said softly. “But the name does not seem familiar.”
“A direct descendant of the Dark Lady herself,” Gareth whispered reverently. “No wonder his magical core is already so developed.”
“Harry wants only us and his grandfather to know,” Sirius stressed. “It’s for the best. I cannot imagine the pressure the dark families would put on him if they found out. They would expect great things from him.”
“Harry will do great things, with or without this legacy,” Rosie said firmly. “But we will respect Harry’s wishes and keep silent.”
Gareth nodded, adding, “If you wanted to investigate who might be related to the Peverell family I would ask Lucius Malfoy. He is particularly well versed in family bloodlines. The Malfoys probably have the best kept records of all of the Sacred Twenty-Eight family lines.”
“I’ll consider it,” Sirius replied, hesitant to go to the former Death Eater. He had told Narcissa he would give her husband a chance though. Perhaps this could be an avenue to set up a meeting with him.
Rosie had a thoughtful look on her face as she asked, “Do you think this is what the prophecy meant when it said ‘he will have power the Dark Lord knows not’. Could it be his legacy as Morgana’s descendant?”
Sirius hadn’t considered that – he had been wondering about that part of the prophecy since he had heard it.
“It’s possible,” Gareth said. “But I fear any revelations might have to wait until Harry gets access to the Peverell vault. There’s so very little we know about Morgana – she lived so long ago. She is practically a deity in our eyes.”
“And Harry is related to her,” Sirius whispered, still processing the information. It would perhaps take a while for Harry to truly understand the magnitude of this legacy, still being relatively new to the wizarding world.
Sirius hoped sincerely his godson would not be so hard on himself in pushing to be at the forefront of social and political change for the dark families. But, if one day he was ready to tell the world about his legacy, then Sirius felt certain Harry could become a rallying point for the dark families.
He wondered if given the choice between Morgana’s direct descendant, and Voldemort, how many of the dark families would turn in Harry’s favour.
Anna Vance pursed her lips disapprovingly as she read the top story of the Daily Prophet that morning, tilting the paper down to address the other two people at the table with her, “What an absolute disgrace. This Doge fellow is surely going to be found guilty by the jury. The paper said yesterday, on the first day of the trial, that he could be facing years in Azkaban.”
Her husband, Felix Vance, paused in the buttering of his toast, saying carefully, “Darling, perhaps not the best conversation to have over breakfast,” looking pointedly towards their daughter Emmeline, who was staring down into her mug of coffee. It was one of the rare occasions she had dropped by their home to join her parents for breakfast.
Anna sighed, folding the Daily Prophet and putting it to the side. She declared, “I know he was a friend of yours, Emmy, but he’s nothing but trouble, surely you can see that.”
“I know that mum,” Emmeline said quietly.
Anna stared at her daughter, worried by her quiet behaviour. “I was expecting you to argue vehemently in his defence,” Anna said slowly. Her husband shot her a warning look, but Anna pushed on, “What are your thoughts on Dumbledore’s trial set to start after Doge’s? You’ve always supported the man.”
Emmeline’s grip tightened around her mug of coffee, before she forced herself to relax. “I don’t know,” she replied, voice barely above a whisper.
Now extremely concerned at the uncharacteristic behaviour, Anna asked, “Is everything okay, sweetheart? You haven’t been yourself lately.”
“You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to,” Felix added, ignoring his wife’s pointed glare.
Emmeline stayed silent for a bit, before she told them both softly, “I’ve had a lot on my mind. Re-evaluating a lot of old friendships.”
The Vance couple exchanged meaningful looks with each other, trying to hide their excitement. They had made no secret over the years of their disapproval for their daughter’s involvement in Dumbledore’s Order. The Vance couple guessed the old friendships their daughter was mentioning must be the members of the Order.
Anna asked lightly, “Where has this come from?”
“I’ve been talking with Sirius Black and Remus Lupin lately,” Emmeline confessed. Her mother leaned in; eyes alight with fascination and intrigue at the mention of the famous Sirius Black.
Felix was much more reserved, taking a sip of his coffee and commenting mildly, “Oh? What have you been talking about?”
Emmeline had promised Sirius she wouldn’t mention anything about the nature of their conversations to anyone, not even to her own parents. So she replied vaguely, “The past, mostly. And moving on. But also…” Emmeline trailed off, biting her lip.
Her parents imperceptibly leaned in, desperate to know what else Emmeline had to say.
“Sirius wants me to do an interview with him,” she told her parents.
Anna’s eyes lit up and she declared, “You should do it!”
“Darling, we don’t even know what the interview is about,” Felix coached patiently.
Anna Vance, every bit the actress, declared dramatically, “An interview alongside Sirius Black? Our Emmy will become a household name! Just like her mother.” Anna looked like a cat that got the cream. Then sobering up she asked, “But what does he intend the interview to be about?”
“I can’t tell you the specifics,” Emmeline warned. “But all I can say is that the interview is probably going to upset a lot of people who I have been very close with. I don’t know if it’s the right thing to do.”
She looked helplessly at her mum and dad and asked, “What should I do?”
Anna actually hesitated, seeing her daughter’s genuine anxiety on what choice to make. She glanced at her husband, trusting him as the more level headed of the two to give their daughter the best advice.
Anna also sensed Emmeline would trust her father’s advice more, given Anna had already made it clear she favoured Emmeline giving an interview. Anna loved being in the public eye; it came in the territory of being a famous actress. She had always hoped her daughter might follow in her footsteps, but instead Emmeline helped her father in their bookstore for a living.
Her humble, quiet, bookshop-owning husband had been the one to do most of the child rearing in their household, so it made sense that Emmeline would favour her father.
Felix reached over to his daughter and Emmeline unwrapped her tight grip from her coffee mug, taking her dad’s hand.
He asked her gently, “What does your gut instinct say?”
“I want to support Sirius,” Emmeline said right away. “But I’m scared that I’m going to burn bridges with so many people in the process.”
“Journalism is printing what someone else does not want printed: everything else is public relations,” Anna said suddenly, unexpectedly.
Emmeline and Felix stared at the woman in shock.
“What? You’re not the only ones who can enjoy Muggle quotes,” the actress sniffed.
“George Orwell,” Felix muttered, still staring at his wife in pleasant surprise. He was Muggleborn, but Anna was a pureblood – she had been born an Ollivander, one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. He was shocked she knew a Muggle author.
“Well it’s actually disputed who said that,” Anna replied, causing her husband and daughter to stare at her in total bafflement again. She sighed, and added, “The sentiment of the quote stands – there’s always going to be someone out there who does not agree with what you say.”
“But I feel like maybe we don’t have to be so public about this – like there could be some other way of doing this without an interview,” Emmeline explained.
“Why does Sirius want to do an interview?” Felix asked his daughter.
“He wants to make sure that the truth gets out,” Emmeline answered softly.
Anna said slowly, “It sounds to me like a public forum is the way to go, then.”
“You’ve got a good heart, Emmy,” Felix said quietly, squeezing his daughter’ hand gently. “You’ve always been so loyal to your friends. You went to war for them.” Anna’s face tightened at the reminder, recalling agonising days waiting for news of their only child, the scars on her daughter’s body when she had come home and the soul shattering loss of Dorcas Meadowes, the one her daughter had wanted to marry. She and her husband had, had to put the broken pieces of their daughter back together, bit-by-bit.
Where had these friends been? Where had Dumbledore been?
Felix continued, “But it sounds to me like there is a story that needs to be told. Something that has been weighing you down, for a long time. If you speak the truth, then your true friends will support you. Anyone else, who cannot accept the truth, no matter how bitter a truth it is to accept, is not worthy of your friendship.”
“Thanks dad,” Emmeline whispered.
She steeled herself, glancing between her parents. “I’ll do it,” she decided. Once she got those words out, she exhaled heavily, like a weight was shifting. “I’ll owl Sirius today, after breakfast.”