The Heiress

"How much?"

Hermione repeated the amount and Harry nearly dropped his pumpkin juice. "Cor blimey, Hermione ..."

"That's not a strong enough swear word, Harry," Ginny said, wide-eyed. "Fucking hell, Hermione, you're rich!"

We were all in the living room, dinner had been served, and against everyone's better judgment, eaten, and Hermione had just finished telling Harry and Ginny the vault story from beginning to end. She'd brought out the note, and Harry agreed with me that it was a serious matter. He did a diagnostic tracing spell and said that it looked like no fewer than 50 redirect charms had been put on the parchment.

"It'll take a bit, but we can break it down in a day or two," said Harry. "Meantime, what about this vault? It's secure?"

"No one except Hermione can take a knut out of it," I said. "And there're only a few goblins authorised to access the higher-security vaults."

"I wonder if the person who wrote this note knew that," Harry said. "This might've been a trick to get Hermione to come over here in the first place. The money would have just stayed where it was if she'd stayed over in America."

We all looked at each other, letting that sink in. Hermione looked worried and wondered aloud if it might not be better for her to go back to America after all.

"No, it probably wouldn't matter. Whoever it is probably doesn't even know you're here. If he did, he'd assume that you had some of the money already and you probably would've gotten another letter." Harry chewed on his bottom lip. "Just be careful. I might stay away from Gringotts for awhile. Just in case."

"Oh. Well, you might be right," said Hermione, looking uncertain. "I had wanted to visit the vault just to ... see it. I'm not at all certain that I will keep that money."

My head whipped around when she said that, but Harry said what I was thinking. "What do you mean? If Ron's right and this person was on our side, why not keep it?"

"Oh, I'm sure I will, but I really would like to see something nice done with this money," she said. "And there's so much that could be done. Ginny, didn't your mum want to start something in Percy's name?"

"Yes. She wanted to have a small fund for Head Boys from Gryffindor," Ginny said softly. "But, Hermione, you don't have to -"

"Truly, that would be the best place to start." She looked at me and raised her glass. "Ron put the idea in my head to keep the money and use it, in part, to help others."

"Nice one, mate," said Harry, nodding at me, "but it can all wait until we've investigated everything, can't it?"

"Oh, of course! But I did want to go to the vault and just see everything." She laughed and twirled her glass. "Seeing the sum on paper is one thing, but actually seeing it would make it a bit more real to me."

"All right then. A quick visit to the vault, but that's all," said Harry. "Until we get this letter business sorted, I don't want you taking any chances."

Her gaze swung my way. "Ron, will you go with me? I'd feel much more secure if I had someone there who could help me navigate the vault."

I was in the middle of a swallow of pumpkin juice and I paused with the glass still on my lips. I think I held that same pose for five minutes or more. "Navigate? That's what the goblins are for."

"Yes, I know that. But in light of everything, I'd feel more comfortable with you there."

I didn't answer right away. I knew that what Hermione was asking was completely reasonable, under the circumstances, and I didn't really have any reason to refuse, and everyone knew it. Bollocks.

Everyone was looking at me except Harry. He was staring at the note again, his glasses slipping down his nose.

"If you're late again, you're on your own," I said gruffly. "I can't hang about on Mondays. It's the busiest day."

In an attempt to change the subject, I suggested we listen to the Cannons on the Wireless, but neither Hermione nor Ginny seemed keen. Harry took pity on me and offered to play a few games of Wizard's Chess and listen to the game in the kitchen so we wouldn't disturb Ginny and Hermione.

"You're doing the right thing," he murmured to me as we went off to the kitchen. "I feel a lot better knowing that you'll be there looking out for her -"

I stopped dead. "Right. Let's get one thing clear. None of this means anything, all right? As of now, Hermione's one of our 'preferred customers,' and I have to put a good face on for the bank. It's just business, Harry."

He looked less than convinced, but like a good mate, he didn't say anything and fooled with the Wireless while I set up the board. I was too distracted by my own thoughts to do a good job of it. I was still hacked-off that I hadn't considered the possibility that by coming back to London, Hermione had played right into someone's hands. If you wanted to get a Norwegian Ridgeback to sit up, you didn't go at it with a feather, after all - you went at it with the biggest stick you could manage. That letter was a pretty bloody big stick. If I'd missed picking up on that, I didn't know if I could trust myself not to miss anything else.

I knocked a piece off the table and Harry stooped down and snatched it like the former Seeker he was. Smiling, he held it out to me.

"A knight, Ron." His eyes shone behind his glasses. "You know, I always think about you when I see one of these. Reckon I'm the only one who does that?"

"Sod off," I muttered. But I took the piece from him and stared at it for a long time before putting it on the board.

~*~

Hermione was at Gringotts bright and early on Monday, and so was I - for a change.

We met at the entrance to the vaults and had to wait a bit for a goblin to take us down to Hermione's vault. We stood there and made a bit of small talk, neither of us paying much attention to what we were saying. I felt a little better when Hermione told me that Harry planned to do a tracing charm on the scroll she'd received and that he'd owl me with the results as soon as he got them.

Then our "escorts" came in. I wasn't all that surprised to see Grubkinder, but he'd brought along another goblin that I recognised as one of the guards who minded the bronze doors every Monday and Friday. They gestured to us to follow them, and we did, right through one of the doors where a cart was waiting. Hermione stood a little behind me, peering over my shoulder.

"I never liked this part."

"We've refined it a bit. Now you just feel sick at the very end instead of all the way through."

Hermione gave me a disbelieving look as I helped her into the cart. She'd told the goblins that she hadn't planned on making any withdrawals, but Grubkinder had brought along a sack almost as big as he was. Grubkinder fiddled around with something for a second, and just as Hermione was turning to say something to me, we went flying along the caverns.

It was a bit of a shock and Hermione grabbed my arm as we sped along. I reckoned I'd have bruises by the end of the ride, but I knew that if I'd had something to hold on to, I probably would've grabbed on just as tight.

The trip reminded me why I always kept a stash of gold in my flat. My ears felt like they were turning inside out as we made turn after turn, moving fast enough to blow my hair off. We were going almost to the very center of the maze, and I realised I'd spoken too soon about feeling sick only at the very end.

By the time the cart slowed down, my head was spinning and my legs felt nonexistent. Hermione didn't look as if she'd enjoyed it any more than I had. Her hair was sticking out from her head like a shelf and she was a little wobbly when I went to help her from the cart.

"I never noticed just how hard this all is." She was trying to pat her hair back into place.

"What do you mean?"

"Making the money so difficult to remove," she said, looking at Grubkinder and his friend as they went to work on the vault door. "In the Muggle world, some banks charge fees for the removal of money. If Muggles had to make a trip like this every time they wanted to make a withdrawal from their accounts, perhaps the economy wouldn't be in the state that it's in."

"Muggles pay to get at their own money? That's mental!"

"Oh, and hurtling along at ridiculous speeds in the dark miles beneath the surface is a much better system?"

"Maybe not, but we don't have to shell out for it, anyway."

I was keeping my eye on the goblins. Usually to get into a high-security vault, one goblin had to stroke the door to get it to fade out, but Grubkinder and his friend were both rubbing the door and muttering at it. It looked like they were having some trouble because they both stopped and were talking to each other in Gobbledegook.

Hermione glanced at me and then asked the goblins if there was a problem, but they just ignored her, huddling closer together and talking in lower voices. I could feel her eyes on me again, but I didn't have any ideas, either. Finally, Grubkinder went at the vault by himself, and in two seconds, the door had melted away. The other goblin looked peeved, but didn't say anything. Both of them turned to Hermione and bowed. Grubkinder tried to give her the bag and seemed put off when she waved it away.

"Well, we're here. I suppose it's time to ... have a look inside."

She sounded nervous and took the sort of steps you'd expect from someone with legs about an inch long. For some reason, I was a little nervous, too. It would probably be my first and last time being near this sort of vault, but I wasn't all that eager to take a peek.

Warren had said that there were surveillance charms and enchantments that made a person go mad if they tried to access an E-level vault that wasn't theirs. That in mind, I kept clear of it - just in case - and stayed with the goblins. Grubkinder was sweating, which struck me as odd, because I didn't think I'd ever seen a goblin sweat before. I was shivering in my robes and could practically see my own breath down in that damp cave.

I looked over when Hermione gasped. She was at the entrance to the vault and was standing there as still as ... well, I didn't want to think about her run-in with the Basilisk all those years ago, but it was a lot like that. The only reason that I wasn't worried was because she was talking - or trying to, anyway.

"Ron ... oh my goodness - this can't - oh, Merlin - I - oh ..."

She made a sound that was between a cough and a laugh and went on chattering half to me and half to herself. I went over to have a look, and the first thing I noticed was the glow reflecting on her face. She looked like she'd just come back from holiday in a sunny, warm place. Even her hair was shimmering. When I turned my head, I saw why.

"Bli ... mey."

That was about all I could get out. Hermione and I were standing at the entrance of a vault so stacked with coins that it was making everything in and around it shine. Heaps and heaps of Galleons stretched as far as the eye could see, some in big piles, some in small stacks off in the corners.

I'd never seen so much gold in one place. I'd never even wondered what more than eight hundred thousand Galleons would look like in one room, but even if I had imagined it, it wouldn't have even come close to reality.

"I can't believe this," she whispered. "This isn't ... Ron, pinch me."

"What?"

"This must be a dream. Pinch me." She tilted herself toward me on her toes, and for a second I thought she was going to fall on the ground. My arms started to go up so that I could catch her, when she stepped on my foot.

"Ron, I'm sorry!" Her eyes rounded and I could see the vault reflected in them. "Are you all right?"

"Just brilliant." I limped away from her. "I think it's pretty well clear that you're awake, by the way. I know I am, now."

She apologised again as she looked all around, turning in a complete circle. "It's unreal. This is truly mine? All of it ...?"

"And more. There's still two hundred thousand Galleons in the original vault."

Hermione took a few steps inside the vault and sat down right on a pile of gold. "It didn't seem real before," she said, looking up at me. "I think that's why I tried to convince myself that it all had to be a mistake. Now that I know that it isn't ... I don't know what to do first!"

"Right, then you'd better get started on a list or something," I said, stuffing my hands in my pockets. "Can we go now?"

"Well, helping those in need, that must be first, of course, both in the wizarding world and the Muggle world. The fund for Head Boys, medical research ..." She nattered on as if I hadn't said a bloody word. "Oh! and then my parents ... Now they'll be able to come home!"

"Couldn't they have done that before now?" I knew that Hermione's parents hadn't gone to Spain just because of the weather. Hermione's home and her parents' business had been destroyed during the war, but Mr. and Mrs. Granger had gotten out of it alive. They'd gone to Spain toward the end of the war and had decided to stay on.

"Not really. Dad and Mum weren't really able to get their practise established the way it was here."

She picked up a handful of Galleons and stuffed them into her coat pocket. "Mum has been homesick for a long while. I could buy them a house, get them settled in another office. And the Academy; there are so many students there from poor families who could use a great deal of help ... and the war orphans here, and - and it would be lovely to do something for Harry and Ginny. They've been so kind - and you, Ron. Is there something you want? Or need?"

"No."

"There must be something. I want to do something for you."

Hermione struggled in trying to rise, and I gave her a hand up. She fell against my chest and didn't move for a long while. Neither did I. I felt her lips moving against my chest and it took me a second to realise that she was talking.

"We could talk about it over dinner -"

"I'm not hungry."

"I didn't mean this minute. We could discuss how best to implement the Gryffindor Head Boy scholarship, for example."

"I think Ginny would be a better person to talk to about that," I said, putting some space between us. "Or my mum. Or someone at Hogwarts."

"Of course I'll talk with them. But you had ideas, too."

She had a big smile on her face and her eyes were wide and gleaming. I thought she looked a little dotty, actually.

"I probably would never have thought of any of this without you."

"Well, what did you think I'd do? It's my job."

"Yes, but you did turn me away at first. I really wasn't sure that I'd see you again after that scene in your office. Leaving the hotel card was a gamble, but it did work, after all."

I hated how bloody pleased with herself she sounded. I knew that I had buggered myself by going after her in the first place and I knew that she'd probably left that card knowing full well that I might, but to see her standing there preening over it made something twist in my gut.

"But I had to try to help you, Hermione." I smirked at her. "Otherwise you might've gone complaining to someone and had me sacked."

She looked confused for a moment, then I saw her face completely change when she realised what I was getting at. My stomach turned again but I forced myself to keep looking at her.

"I wouldn't ... I wouldn't have done that."

"Right." I waited a beat. "But I figured I shouldn't take any chances. This time."

All of the colour ran out of her and recoiled like I'd taken a swing at her. Suddenly, her face looked like day-old ashes under a dripping cauldron.

"You're never going to stop hating me for that, are you?" Her voice was soft and shaky. "There's nothing I'll ever be able to do to make you see my side of things. Ron, I never wanted ..."

Something inside me was beginning to bubble up, and I itched to get back up into the open air. We'd been dancing around this for days, and I'd managed to step on my tongue. But she was touching on that sore spot, and I was tired of holding back.

"Hermione, I don't hate you. I wouldn't be here if I did, and I've got better ways to spend my time. But if you thought that throwing a few Galleons around would make me suddenly roll on my back and lick your hand like some great Muggle dog, then you'd do better to take this money and buy into the twins' business. They say they need to reformulate their Daydream charms, and I'm sure you could give them some advice."

Her face changed from ashes to fire even while her eyes betrayed her hurt. But I refused to feel like a git about it. Turning, I walked away.

"If there's nothing else, let's go. I have real work to do now."

There was a long pause and then the jingle of coins as she came along, kicking a few Galleons as she came along. Out of the corner of my eye, I could almost see the anger radiating off her skin. Her cheeks were red and her eyes were dark and glowing like hot coals.

Grubkinder and the other goblin were already in the cart, waiting for us. Grubkinder gave a strange twitch when Hermione came up and plumped in. He was sweating buckets now and didn't look very good at all. I wondered if maintaining high-security vaults took some sort of toll on the goblins' health.

"Well, let's get on with it then." She wasn't looking at me. "It's very hot down here. I need some air."

"Hot?" I hunkered down in my robes, my chin almost to my chest. "My hands feel like they could shatter and break, they're so cold."

"It feels hot and muggy to me." Hermione inched as far away as she could, and her voice made the temperature drop even more. "Perhaps during the time you've worked near these caves, you've become cold-blooded."

I kept my mouth shut, because there wasn't any doubt to what lay behind those words. I gave the goblins the go-ahead, and Hermione loosened her jacket and took off her scarf a few seconds before we shoved off.

At the start, we weren't going as fast as we'd gone coming down. In fact, it almost seemed like we were going at a crawl. Hermione was squirming next to me, murmuring to herself and fanning her face with one hand.

I kept watch on her out of the corner of my eye, feeling a little uneasy. She was a good bit squirmy, which was unlike her, but that wasn't what made me feel strange. It wasn't even the row that was getting to me - well, not much. Despite it all, I never felt good about arguing with her - I never had - but it was one of those inevitable things, like having a long belch after an ice-cold mug of bitters.

I blamed myself, a little. I shouldn't've come, should've thought of some better excuse, maybe should've brought Warren along. It didn't matter, though. I'd gotten what I wanted, I suppose. It was pretty certain that Hermione would steer clear of me for the rest of her visit. It was for the best, even she would agree to that, but my heart sort of knocked hard when I heard a muffled sound next to me that sounded suspiciously like someone trying hard not to cry.

I could hear the goblins conferring in their grunts and groans. I wasn't sure, but they looked to be arguing about something. I was about to try my hand at Gobbledegook and ask what was going on when a sound like a tea kettle corking off bounced off the walls.

The cart jolted and rocked as it went faster and then slower and then sped up again. Hermione shrieked and grabbed hold of my robes and the goblins started speaking in louder and more frantic voices.

"What the bloody hell is going on?"

We were whizzing along too fast for the torch light along the passageways to do much good, but I that same shriek came again and that's when I realised that it was one of the goblins making the noise.

One of them turned round, catching the light, and I nearly fell out of the cart at what I saw. Grubkinder's face was three times its size, his eyes bulging out of his sockets, his face a painful purple colour, and there was smoke curling from the edges of his beard. I saw his jaw moving. I suppose he went to scream again, but he didn't get far; the minute he opened his mouth, there was a loud, wet popping sound.

And then he was gone, plumes of steam rising from the spot where he'd been sitting.

The other goblin shouted loud enough to make the caves crumble around us, and in a second I saw why. In the bottom of the cart was the sack that Hermione hadn't used, and on it were splashes dark-red liquid and what looked like bits of goblin skin.

"Holy Merlin -"

I was cut off by another scream - one that made my stomach drop.

"Ron! Oh, my god - it's too hot - my clothes -!"

Hermione was screeching directly into my ear. She was flailing and making a horrible gurgling sound. Her face was in shadow, but I could see her features contorted in pain.

"I'm burning! Oh my god, they're burning me! Ron, please -"

"What? Burning where? Hermione? Hermione!"

I ripped open her coat to give her some air. Something hot scalded my leg, but I barely felt it. I put my hand on her neck and gasped. She was wet with sweat and her skin was burning and puffing up like a biscuit. Her eyes were rolling about behind bloated eyelids and her lips were hideously swollen. I thought about what had just happened to Grubkinder and I held onto her tight. I stopped breathing when I felt her expanding in my arms, like a balloon being filled to the bursting point.

"Move this bloody thing faster!" I barely recognized my voice and could hardly get my breath. The goblin that was left was blubbering and he looked as if he wanted to jump out of the cart. "Get us the hell out of here now!"

Then everything passed by in a blur, and I didn't stop to think or look around me when I saw the shafts of light that meant we'd gotten to the surface. I didn't stop to do anything until I'd Apparated the two of us to St. Mungo's and the Healers pried her out of my arms. As they rushed her away, she thrashed and shrieked about how she was burning up from the inside out.

I tried to follow them, but a Mediwitch hurried up and made me sit down, pointing out a huge hole in my trousers that had blackened around the edges. Right above my knee was a nasty looking burn that was beginning to bubble and blister. I was just starting to register the pain of it when something sizzled against my ankle. I nearly knocked the Mediwitch to the floor with my hopping about, and when she grabbed me by the arm, something fell out of my pants leg and tumbled onto the floor with a fizzing sound.

We both looked down, staring in shock. A Galleon was on the floor at my feet, steaming and hissing like a cauldron put to boil.