8 The Vault

I scanned through the parchment, and my eyes widened in disbelief. The words seemed to blur together momentarily as I tried to make sense of what I was seeing. 'Hufflepuff' I repeated in my mind. The name echoed like a distant memory, stirring up a whirlwind of thoughts. Could it be possible? Was I truly related to one of the founders of Hogwarts? And if so, what did that mean for me?

Lost in my thoughts, I turned to Grimgore, the goblin who had conducted the inheritance test. "How accurate is this?" I asked, my voice tinged with uncertainty.

Grimgore regarded me with a sharp expression. "The test has never been wrong," he replied matter-of-factly. "It is a powerful magic, passed down through the ages, and it does not make mistakes."

A shiver ran down my spine as his words sank in. If the test was indeed infallible, then there was no denying the truth of my lineage. I was descended from Helga Hufflepuff herself, a fact that filled me with both pride and trepidation.

I glanced up at Grimgore, "What now?" I asked, my voice betraying my uncertainty.

The goblin regarded me with a steady gaze, his expression unreadable. "Well, since you're the rightful heir," he began, "you gain access to the Hufflepuff family vault."

The Hufflepuff family vault. It was a concept that seemed almost surreal, yet here I was, faced with the reality of my heritage. The thought of what treasures might lie within sent a thrill of excitement coursing through me.

But Grimgore's next words dampened my enthusiasm. "Unfortunately," he continued, "We haven't been able to reach the Gaunt head in quite some time. And without permission from the Head of the family, you won't be able to use the Gaunt family vault." 

A pang of disappointment washed over me at the news. The Gaunt family vault held its own mysteries, and the thought of being unable to explore it left me feeling strangely incomplete. But my thoughts drifted to Voldemort, 'So he's still considered 'alive' to the magic of the test, interesting.'

The goblins voice broke me out of my thoughts. "Wait here for a second."

As Grimgore instructed me to wait, I settled back into the comfortable couch, my mind swirling with thoughts about my ancestry. Moments stretched into what felt like an eternity before the door creaked open once more, and Grimgore returned, accompanied by McGonagall. I glanced up as they entered, noting the serious expressions on their faces.

"Mr. Smith," McGonagall began, her voice carrying a weight of importance. "It seems you kept yourself busy while you were waiting." I rubbed the back of my head, "Heh.... yeah, sorry about that." I apologized. She gave me a comforting smile in return.

"It's alright, Cassius, but it seems like there's something we need to discuss. May I see the test?" She asked me with her arm extended out towards me. I reached down for the paper on the table and said, "Sure Professor, here." 

As she read the words written on it, her eyes widened in surprise. "Oh my!" She looked back up at me, then looked back at the paper, "Well, this is quite the surprise." 

"Excuse me, Mr. Smith, or would you prefer Hufflepuff now?" Grimgore asked me. I thought about it for a second, "I guess there's no point in not taking the name." I answered the goblin, and with a flourish, he produced a small, ancient-looking box, the wood worn and weathered with age.

"This is for you, Mr. Hufflepuff," Grimgore declared, his voice carrying a weight of significance.

I accepted the box with trembling hands, my heart pounding in my chest. Slowly, almost reverently, I lifted the lid, revealing the treasure hidden within. Nestled within the black lining lay a gleaming gold ring, its band intricately engraved with delicate designs. At its center, a black gem sparkled in the dim light of the room, casting an otherworldly glow.

I couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the ring, the weight of its history and legacy pressing against my palm. It was a symbol of my newfound identity, a tangible connection to the lineage of the Hufflepuff family.

I looked up towards McGonagall, "It's yours now, Cassius," she affirmed, her voice carrying a note of solemnity. With her words echoing in my mind, I slid the ring onto my right ring finger, marveling at how it seemed to shrink to fit me perfectly as it settled into place. When it settled onto my finger, I noticed how the gem seemed to glow.

"Well, I guess we should visit your vault now, Cassius." McGonagall said as she followed Grimgore out of the room, waving for me to follow.

....

Grimgore led us through the corridors of Gringotts until we reached a small cart waiting for us at the entrance to the vaults. The cart looked ancient, its metal frame adorned with intricate carvings and runes that seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy.

"Please, step aboard," Grimgore instructed, gesturing towards the cart. "It might be a long ride down, as the Hufflepuff family vault is located deep within the bowels of the bank."

As I climbed into the cart beside McGonagall, I couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation. Grimgore took his place at the front of the cart, and with a sharp flick of his wrist, we began our descent into the depths of Gringotts.

The cart lurched forward, hurtling us down a steep incline at breakneck speed. The air grew colder and the light dimmer as we delved deeper into the earth, the walls of the tunnel blurring past us in a dizzying blur.

I gripped the edge of the cart tightly, trying to steady myself as we descended further and further into the darkness. The sound of rushing wind filled my ears, echoing off the walls of the tunnel as we plunged deeper into the unknown.

Despite the unease gnawing at my gut, I couldn't help but marvel at the sheer magnitude of the bank's underground network. It was a testament to the goblins' craftsmanship, a hidden world hidden beneath the bustling streets of Diagon Alley.

After what felt like an eternity of descent, the cart gradually began to slow its breakneck pace until it finally came to a halt. Grimgore hopped off the cart with practiced ease, and McGonagall and I followed suit, stepping onto solid ground once more.

As we followed Grimgore through the dimly lit tunnels, the air grew thicker and heavier, as if weighed down by the secrets hidden within the depths of Gringotts. Eventually, we reached a vault labeled 13, and Grimgore turned towards us with a nod.

"Here we are," he announced, his voice echoing off the walls. "The Hufflepuff family vault."

Grimgore approached the vault door, then turned to me and gestured towards the intricate engraving on the door's surface. "To access the Hufflepuff vault, Mr. Hufflepuff, you must press the ring against this slot here," he explained, pointing to a small indentation that seemed designed to fit the ring perfectly.

Taking a deep breath, I glanced down at the golden ring adorning my right ring finger. With a steady hand, I pressed the ring against the slot Grimgore had indicated, feeling the cool metal against my skin. Hearing the door mechanism snap to life, I felt a surge of magic coursing through me. 

*Click*