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Chapter 527: The Lestrange Vault
🕑 Added 2025-02-22 12:47:07 +0000 UTCAlthough the dance had ended, the students' excitement hadn’t waned in the slightest. Even after returning to their common rooms, they stayed up late discussing the event instead of heading straight to bed.
As a result, most students slept in the following morning, and the Great Hall was nearly empty when Kyle arrived for breakfast.
“Kyle, there you are,” said Sirius with a grin as he entered through the doors. “I was just debating whether I should come and look for you in the Hufflepuff common room.”
“Look for me?” Kyle asked, raising an eyebrow. “What for?”
“Have you forgotten…” Sirius leaned in and lowered his voice so only Kyle could hear. “The Vault key from the holidays…”
At this, Kyle couldn’t help but spring to his feet.
“So, you can go to Gringotts now?”
“I could have gone ages ago,” Sirius replied with a smirk. “Where do you think I got the money for the Firebolts? But you had school, and I had other matters to attend to. Now I’ve got time... Or, if you’re busy this holiday, we can wait until the end of the school year.”
“No, now is fine,” Kyle said quickly. Then, with a slight frown, he added, “But there’s one problem. Can I leave the castle?”
“In principle, no,” Sirius admitted. “Unless we can get the Headmaster’s permission.”
“Well, what are we waiting for?” Kyle exclaimed, cramming the remaining bread from his plate into his mouth in two swift bites. Without wasting another moment, he and Sirius headed toward the Headmaster’s Office on the eighth floor.
...
"You want to leave school?" Dumbledore’s eyebrows lifted slightly at the unexpected request as Kyle and Sirius entered his office.
“Yes, Headmaster Dumbledore,” Sirius said, his gaze briefly flicking to Madam Maxime and Karkaroff, who were also in the office. Speaking in a casual tone, he added, “I’ve prepared a special Christmas present, but it’s not something I can deliver here at the school. I thought it would be nice to show Kyle around while I hand it over.”
Dumbledore hesitated, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “This is a delicate time. Kyle is one of the Triwizard Champions, and many eyes are upon him...”
“The place we’re going to is Diagon Alley,” Sirius interjected smoothly. “It’s perfectly safe.”
“Yes,” Kyle chimed in.
“Just Diagon Alley…” Dumbledore considered for a moment before nodding. “All right, I’ll allow it. But how will you get there? The train left yesterday and won’t return until the end of the holidays.”
“Train?” Sirius’s expression twisted in disdain. “That thing is unbearably slow. I endured enough of it during my school days. We’ll head to Hogsmeade and use the fireplace at The Three Broomsticks.”
“There’s no need for that,” Dumbledore said, lifting a hand. He flicked his fingers toward the fireplace in his office, and the flames within roared to life, turning a bright green.
“Hogwarts is connected to the Floo Network?” Sirius asked in surprise.
“It’s usually closed, but there’s no harm in opening it for a few hours,” Dumbledore explained with a small smile. “Will five hours suffice, or do you need longer?”
“That’s more than enough,” Sirius replied confidently. “We’ll be back before lunch.” He motioned for Kyle to follow, and the two stepped into the fireplace.
As they disappeared in a swirl of green flames, both Maxime and Karkaroff exchanged uneasy glances.
Kyle, one of the Champions, had abruptly left Hogwarts before the second task had even begun. Such an unusual decision struck them as highly suspicious.
And the excuse Sirius had given—that the gift couldn’t be delivered to the castle—seemed laughably weak. Did they really think others wouldn’t see through it?
“Olympe,” Karkaroff said in a low voice, unable to contain his curiosity, “at Beauxbatons, would students staying over the holidays be allowed to leave the school so easily?”
“Of course not,” Madam Maxime replied firmly. “Unless they neglected to sign the holiday detention list, students are not permitted to leave the school grounds, even during breaks.”
“The same rule applies to Hogwarts,” Dumbledore interjected with a calm smile. “But this is a special case. Kyle was assisting Professor Black during the holidays, and I believe this is simply Sirius’s way of showing gratitude.”
“Well, let’s not concern ourselves with them,” Dumbledore said smoothly, redirecting the conversation. “Now, where were we? Ah, yes, the scoring criteria for the Champions in the second task...”
His transparent attempt to change the subject only deepened Maxime and Karkaroff’s suspicions. They were now convinced that Kyle’s outing was somehow tied to the Triwizard Tournament.
Their gazes lingered on Dumbledore, filled with newfound wariness. Was Hogwarts, the home team, resorting to underhanded tactics? The thought left a sour taste in their mouths.
Dumbledore, however, remained completely unfazed, continuing to articulate his thoughts with serene composure.
...
Meanwhile, Kyle and Sirius emerged from the fireplace in the Leaky Cauldron, stepping into the quiet, dimly lit pub.
It was still early in the morning after Christmas, and the place was deserted except for old Tom, who stood behind the bar polishing a row of empty glasses.
Without pause, Sirius led Kyle toward the back garden, where the entrance to Diagon Alley awaited.
“Kyle, and Black?” Tom greeted them with a warm smile as they stepped out of the fireplace. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“No, Tom, maybe next time,” Sirius replied, shaking his head.
With that, the two made their way through the back entrance to Diagon Alley and walked briskly toward Gringotts.
As they approached the gleaming bronze doors, Sirius glanced over at Kyle. “You’ve got the key?”
“Of course. I always carry it with me,” Kyle said, reaching into his bag and pulling out a golden key.
Sirius took the key without hesitation and strode into the imposing marble hall of the wizarding bank. Inside, about a hundred goblins were hard at work behind long counters. Some weighed coins on scales, while others inspected gemstones with meticulous care through magnifying eyepieces.
They stopped in front of a goblin who was scribbling in a large ledger.
“Ahem...” Sirius cleared his throat. “We need to access the Lestrange’s vault.”
The goblin looked up at Sirius, his sharp features twisting in curiosity. “You don’t look like Miss Lestrange,” he said in a high-pitched, skeptical voice.
“I’m her... cousin,” Sirius replied with an expression that suggested he’d just swallowed a particularly vile Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Bean. “She asked me to retrieve something for her.”
The goblin studied Sirius for a long moment, then his eyes seemed to glint with recognition. “Ah, yes, you are indeed permitted to access her vault.”
He added, “Now then, Mr. Black, do you have the key?”
Sirius tossed the key onto the table, his tone impatient. “Here it is. She gave it to me. This should be the one.”
The goblin picked up the key and inspected it carefully. “Yes…” he said at last. “Mr. Black, I must remind you that you are authorized to take only one item from the vault.”
“I know,” Sirius snapped. “And I don’t even want to look at the rest of that rubbish.”
“Very well,” the goblin replied. Turning slightly, he called, “Griphook!”
Another goblin appeared promptly and motioned for them to follow. Griphook led Sirius and Kyle through a door behind the counter into a narrow stone corridor.
A small cart awaited them, and they climbed in. The moment they were settled, the cart sped off along a network of twisting tunnels, deep into the heart of Gringotts.
The further they went, the more Sirius’s complexion paled. He pressed a hand to his mouth, clearly struggling with the motion.
Kyle, on the other hand, felt only the cool rush of air. Compared to the turbulence of phoenix apparition, this ride felt like a tame children’s attraction.
The passages grew darker and darker as the cart picked up speed. They passed through a waterfall, drenching them and sending chills through their bodies as the icy wind cut against their wet clothes.
But the waterfall was unavoidable. Without passing through Thief’s Downfall, Griphook couldn’t proceed.
After another ten minutes of careening through the underground maze, Kyle’s ears picked up a faint, pitiful sound—a weak dragon’s roar.
The sound was feeble, a far cry from the commanding, fearsome presence a dragon’s cry should evoke.
“This is Gringotts’ greatest defense,” Griphook said proudly as their cart came to a halt. “The dragon ensures that any thief coveting the treasures here pays a steep price.”
Kyle looked at him with an impassive expression, betraying no reaction to the goblin’s words.
The cart finally stopped by a mountain stream. Blocking their path stood a creature with the body of a lion and the face of a human—a sphinx.
Sphinxes, renowned for their intelligence and mastery of riddles and anagrams, were often employed by wizards to safeguard precious items and secret locations. Kyle recalled that Newt Scamander had one in his magical suitcase. Though it had no gold or jewels to guard, the sphinx fixated on Newt’s Mooncalf, often obstructing him when he went to collect Mooncalf fertilizer.
Griphook stepped down first, approached the sphinx, and spoke to it in low, clipped tones. After a moment of hesitation, the creature retreated sulkily into the shadows.
“Come on,” Griphook said, gesturing for them to follow.
Kyle and Sirius stepped out of the cart and followed Griphook. The stream led to a single, imposing vault door. Griphook retrieved the key, placed it in his palm, and pressed his hand firmly against the door.
Kyle observed the goblin’s actions with curiosity.
“Anyone but a goblin who tries this would be sucked in and trapped forever,” Griphook said with a malicious grin, glancing at Kyle.
“Can you stop wasting time and get on with it?” Sirius snapped, clearly losing patience.
“As you wish,” Griphook replied smugly.
As soon as he finished speaking, the heavy vault doors began to dissolve, revealing the treasures within.
For a moment, Kyle thought someone had turned on a flood of lights inside—the golden glow was so brilliant it dazzled his eyes.
Inside was a veritable mountain of gold, rising nearly ten feet high. Among the piles were the hides of exotic creatures, flasks filled with mysterious potions, and a skull crowned with a tarnished crown.
“Hurry,” Sirius said urgently. “Take what you need, and let’s get out of here.”
“Got it,” Kyle replied, turning to Griphook. “Can I enter? Are there any active protective charms?”
“The vault is protected by the Flagrante Curse and the Gemino Curse,” Griphook explained. “But since you have the key, those charms are temporarily disabled and won’t reactivate until the door is closed. If you’re uncertain, I can retrieve the item for you.”
“No need,” Kyle replied confidently, stepping into the vault. As he entered, he deliberately kicked a Galleon with his foot.
The coin clinked as it rolled across the floor, finally coming to a stop against another pile of gold. It remained a single coin throughout, not doubling or growing hot.
Satisfied, Kyle let down his guard and walked further inside. Griphook followed closely, his sharp eyes monitoring Kyle’s every move, clearly ensuring he didn’t take anything extra.
Kyle ignored him. Although the piles of treasure were undeniably tempting, he had a specific purpose and didn’t intend to stray from it.
The vault was spacious and densely packed with items. Kyle took his time, walking back and forth, scanning the piles of valuables for nearly five minutes.
Finally, his eyes landed on his target. Atop a raised stone platform at the far end of the vault sat a small golden cup.
The cup was intricately designed, with a lifelike badger engraved on its surface. Two delicate handles, shaped like ears, extended from either side of the cup.
