The next day, Potter, Weasley, and Bill dressed in plain, inconspicuous black robes, stashed their wands in their pockets, and prepared to leave. Ginny and Granger were sitting on the couch glumly, neither of them happy to be missing out on the adventure, Ginny especially. The three men bade the two girls good-bye, and then Disapparated.
They arrived standing before the entrance of Gringotts. It had been instantly repaired by magic when the damage had occurred, but the matter of money and possessions in vaults hadn’t been as easy and it was still very mixed-up, which gave the three clever men quite an advantage.
Inside was complete chaos. Goblins ran every which way, darting between clumps of anxious witches and wizards, all wanting assurance that their savings were intact. Humans who worked at Gringotts were yelling to be heard over all the noise, trying to say that everybody’s possessions would be okay.
“This way,” whispered Bill. “The vaults are through that door.”
Squeezing through the mobs of angry wizards, the three men were able to open the door unnoticed and slip inside. Inside, it was dark, damp, and slimy, and smelled like rotting things. “This is the Underground,” Potter whispered. “Right?”
Bill nodded. “But we aren’t taking the carts. Not yet, anyway. We have to find out which vault Snape has. Follow me.” He turned right and began walking down a rounded, cavelike tunnel crawling with spiders, which was making Weasley whimper quite a bit.
The tunnel stretched on and on. Potter’s eyes adjusted to the dark and he could see other, narrower, tunnels spreading out into the darkness. “Bill, where do all these tunnels go?” he asked.
“Vaults, of course. Everything down here leads to vaults. Some lead to high-security vaults.”
“Right.” Of course, Potter thought to himself. Vaults.
Finally they spotted a tiny pinprick of light at the end of the tunnel. “We’re almost there!” Potter yelped, breaking into a run. He could hear his friends’ footsteps getting faster and knew they had increased speed as well.
After a while he had to stop running. The light wasn’t getting any bigger; it was farther away than he’d thought. “Jeez,” he said, panting, “how long is this tunnel, Bill?”
“We’re almost there now. Just a bit further,” Bill said. “But we don’t have to run.”
Potter grinned. “Right.”
They walked on in silence, and after a few minutes the glowing dot began to grow until they could see a room on the other side of the tunnel. The walls were lined with shelves that were stuffed with boxes, and the rest of the room was occupied by tall bookshelves also stocked with the same boxes. “What is all this?” asked Weasley in amazement, as they stepped into the light.
“This is where we can find what vault is Snape’s,” Bill replied, crouching down to examine a low shelf. “Look under ‘S.’”
Potter and Weasley joined the search. Weasley, standing on his tiptoes, managed to tip over one of the boxes. He leapt away as small white slips of paper fluttered to the ground all around them.
Bill rolled his eyes. “Smooth, Ron.” He muttered a charm under his breath, and the papers returned to the box. Blushing, Weasley replaced the box in its spot.
After about ten minutes (there were quite a few “S” wizards out there) Potter found a slip of paper marked “Severus Snape.” Getting to his feet, he said, “Guys, I found it!”
“Great!” Bill turned around to face Potter. “What does it say?”
Potter squinted to make out the tiny black words. “Not much. It just says Vault 638.”
“638…I think that’s a high-security one. We’ll have a tough time getting in without the key.”
“Well, we have to try, anyway.” Potter stuffed the slip of paper into his pocket and drew out his wand. “Let’s go.”
Silently the three men trooped back into the dark tunnel. Bill muttered “Lumos” under his breath, and held it up to a small, brass plaque hanging above the entryway to one of the smaller tunnels. “This one leads to vaults 401-450. So we’ll need to keep moving down.”
Potter and Weasley performed the Lumos spell and they proceeded on, occasionally checking the brass plaques until Weasley found the tunnel leading to vaults 601-650. “This way!” he called, running down the hallway. Potter and Bill followed.
This tunnel was considerably smaller than the main one, with a low, dripping ceiling and a very narrow path. They kept going, however, shoulders hunched, head hanging low, as they were plunged into even darker terrain. It seemed that they were going downhill, but the three pinpricks of light from their wands wasn’t sufficient to see much. “I liked taking the cart better,” Potter grumbled, as he hit his head on the rocky ceiling for the third time.
“We should be getting there any minute,” Bill said.
Suddenly there was a yelp from Weasley, who was leading the three of them, and a long, echoing cry. “RON!” Potter shouted, running forward. As he increased speed, his foot landed on something slimy and slippery and he lost his balance. The next thing he knew, he was sliding headfirst on his stomach through complete darkness.
He heard a thump as Bill fell behind him, and that wasn’t exactly reassuring. Potter was moving so fast he could hardly feel himself going forward. He stuck his arms out to slow himself down and hopefully come to a stop, but the walls were just as slimy as the ground, and he was moving too rapidly to get a good hold on anything.
So he let himself slide down, increasing speed as he went, the wind flying into his face in cold bursts. He could no longer hear Bill, or maybe Bill was just being quiet. Earlier, he’d been occasionally able to catch glimpses of Weasley’s vivid hair, but now everything had been swallowed up by the darkness.
Potter couldn’t see a thing. He could barely even see the tiny light on the tip of his wand; it was merely a near-microscopic blur.
Then quite suddenly, he heard a distinct “Oomph!” and before he knew it, he had abruptly come to a stop. The ground had leveled out. Remembering that Bill was zooming right behind him, Potter scrambled to his feet.
With a loud thump Bill arrived in the small chamber and picked himself up. “Don’t worry,” he said, noticing Weasley’s frightened expression, “this is the right way. Follow me.” Confidently, he strode over to a wide door and placed his hand on the doorknob.
Instantly he jumped back. “Ouch!” he exclaimed, examining his hand. “It burned me!”
Potter studied Bill’s hand. A small, circular red mark burned brightly in the middle of his palm. “Wow,” he said softly. “Why is that?”
Cursing softly, Bill shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve been down here before. My only guess is that they’ve bewitched everything to keep people’s vaults safe from people who are taking advantage of the chaos.”
Potter grinned. “Like us.”
Bill nodded with a rueful smile. “I guess.”
“Well, what are we going to do?” Weasley ejaculated.
“Oh, it shouldn’t be too hard to break through this door,” said Bill cheerfully. “It’s what’s coming up that scares me.”
This comment made Ron turn a delicate shade of green, but nevertheless he followed Potter and Bill through the hole where the door had once stood after Bill blasted it down with “Reducto.”
They stepped into a dark corridor once again, but this one was lit with torches hanging on the walls every few feet. It was lined with vaults, starting with 601.
Cautiously, the three men made their way down the hallway. As they neared 630 and nothing yet had happened, they gained confidence and increased their speed.
“Here it is!” said Potter, stepping past vault 636. He looked up expectantly.
The door read 640.
“640?” said Potter slowly. He glanced towards the other row of vaults, which held the odd numbered ones. 635, 637, 639…where was 638?
“It’s not here,” he said, bewildered. “It simply skips over vault 638.”
Bill and Weasley caught up to him. “How odd,” he murmured. “This certainly is strange. Where could it have gone?”
Potter’s spirits had been lifted by the lack of enchantments in the hallway, but now they were plummeting back downwards. “How can the vault just be…gone?” he whispered.
Bill shrugged. “The next one’s 642, then 644…it seems that 638 was just skipped entirely.”
“But it said that was Snape’s,” Potter persisted. “Snape must be behind this.”
“Well, there’s obviously nothing more we can do here. Let’s get back to Ginny and Hermione.”
Dejectedly, the three of them turned to leave.
And came face-to-face with a spider roughly the size of Hagrid’s hut.
* * * * * * * * * *
The obvious choice…
At the time, it had seemed obvious to Malfoy to return to Voldemort. He was safe masquerading as Neville Barker-for now, anyway. But how long would it be before Voldemort figured him out? Not very long at all. As Malfoy came back into the dreary old mansion, he wished that he made a better choice.
But it was too late now.
He, Snape, and the other Death Eaters were in the room where Voldemort was sitting. He stared out at them stonily. “Is it complete?” he asked icily.
Snape bowed his head humbly. “Your request has been carried out, my Lord.”
“Good.” Voldemort settled back in his chair, looking quite satisfied. “Then be gone. Get out of my sight. Make yourselves useful; there is plenty of work to be done.”
Snape bowed once more and then backed respectfully out of the room. Malfoy ducked his head to Voldemort, not intending to be caught, and followed Snape out of the room.
Snape began striding towards a moldy old staircase. Malfoy hurried after him. “Wait up!” he said. “What does that spell do? On that trapdoor?”
Snape whirled to face Malfoy, his robes billowing around his ankles ominously. “That is classified information,” he hissed, baring his yellow teeth.
Taken aback, Malfoy stepped away. “Fine,” he said. “I was just asking.”
“Well, don’t ask again.” With that eloquent parting response, Snape stormed angrily off.
“Something’s got him worked up,” muttered Malfoy. “Maybe he’s mad because…I escaped.” A grin spread over Malfoy’s features. “I’d be angry if I were Snape, too. Voldemort’s not going to be happy at all!”
Now there was not much of a purpose for Malfoy to stay here any longer, but he didn’t have anywhere to go. Potter would still be at Grimmauld Place, and he wouldn’t be able to get inside.
It looked like Neville Barker would get to live a bit longer.
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