Chapter 48: Through the Gate
Hyacinth POV
Morning at Longbottom Cottage came too fast. The old house groaned as if it knew it had one last job before we left it behind. I sat up on my cot, rubbing my eyes, and looked around at the chaos of people in every corner.
Draco was already dressed, his robes crisp, his trunk stacked neatly by the door like he thought being prepared would keep the nerves away. Neville crouched on the floor, whispering to one of the seedlings he snuck out from the greenhouses and tucked into a clay pot. Hermione was checking and rechecking her checklist, quill tapping against her lip. While Fred and George were whispering furiously about whether they had time to test one more prank before we left.
Across the room, Augusta marched between the rows of cots like a general, cane rapping the floor as she barked reminders. "Shoes on, trunks closed, no one leaves anything behind. If I find a sock in the rafters, I'll dock house points retroactively."
"From which house?" Fred muttered.
"Yours," Augusta shot back without missing a step.
The noise of everyone moving about was almost comforting, almost.
I patted the pocket of my cloak, where the small framed portrait of Mum and Dad rested. James was grinning in his usual crooked way, Lily's hand curled gently on his shoulder. It wasn't the original from Potter Manor, but a shrunken copy, charmed so they'd follow me wherever I went.
Mum looked at me from her frame and whispered "I'll be with you the whole way sweetheart, no matter what." While Dad James chuckled and said. "Just be sure not to trip over your own feet and fall face first into Atlantis." All I could do was shake my head because that was typical of him.
We ate a rushed breakfast of toast, porridge, and tea, but no one complained about it. Dad tried to make jokes about Gran Augusta rationing jam, but even he couldn't cover the tension. Amelia muttered into a stack of parchment about charters, Dora cycled her hair from nervous pink to bold blue, and Ted tried to calm her by promising to dye his eyebrows in solidarity.
By the time Gran Augusta's elves cleared the dishes, we were lined up for the Floo.
The trip to Gringotts was a blur of soot and elbows. Families spilled out of fireplaces in small groups, as trunks thumped onto the marble floors. Goblins in armor waited for us, their eyes were sharp but not unfriendly. They just watched us like hawks, and I felt safer for it.
We packed into the rattling carts that carried us deep into the depths of Gringotts. The rails screamed as sparks flew against the stone walls. My stomach dropped every time the track dipped, and Fred's groan of "Bloody brilliant, I should have skipped breakfast before this" didn't help. While Gran Augusta shot him a glare sharp enough to nail him to the seat after his comment.
By the time the cart screeched to a stop, my fingers ached from holding on for dear life. Those carts need seat-belts at the very least I thought as I got out of the death trap. The doors to the Peverell vault loomed ahead, the runes around it were glowing faintly against the dark stone.
Inside, the vault was stripped of its original chaos, in its place were crates upon crates, cages with animals and trunks everywhere. Every crate was labeled, every trunk tagged, and every cage spelled to silence the restless animals inside. Rows of property orbs gleamed faintly, stacked like glass marbles in their own charmed crates, and in the far corner, three ZPMs pulsed with a steady light. These were the power crystals we decided to leave behind for the goblins.
The goblin contingent that was going with us stood at attention, their armor gleaming, and each one had their own axes strapped across their backs. They were just as much apart of our team as the rest of us.
Dad spoke to the goblin leader like it was no big deal. "Three ZPMs are yours. It should be enough power to keep the gate operational for a long while. This should make communication easier should you need to speak with us or send anyone else through. We're trusting you to keep it safe, same as you've always done."
The goblin leader inclined his head, not low, but it was enough that we could tell he at least respected us now. "It will be watched. No one will breach this place without our knowledge."
That was as good as a vow to a goblin and I could tell Dad and my Uncles were happy about it.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out the little portrait. Mum and Daddy's faces smiled back at me their faces were soft with understanding.
"You ready?" I whispered.
"Always," Daddy said.
"Go on, love," Mum added softly. "We're with you."
When I looked up, I caught Professor Snape watching. His face didn't move, but his eyes lingered on Mum's painted smile. He didn't say a word, and neither did I. Some things didn't need to be pointed out.
The gate ring glinted in the light from Dad's hand when he lifted it. I remembered the first time I'd seen it, how it felt ancient even then. He pressed the runes, one by one, and the grinding echo filled the vault as the Stargate rumbled to life. The glyphs locked into place, as the large outter stone ring began spinning until the final chevron locked into place. The event horizon burst outward with a roar, it looked like a large wave crashing into itself while colliding with a large rock all at once, then it collapsed into the shimmering blue surface of the wormhole.
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Some of the older children shrank back, while the younger ones clutched tighter to their parents. Hermione's hand shot into her mother's, Neville clutched at Uncle Frank's robe sleeve like a lifeline. Even Draco leaned forward just slightly, eyes wide in disbelief despite himself.
"Forward guard your up," Dad said calmly. As his own hand wrapped around mine, and I squeezed it for my own peace of mind.
The goblins went first just like we planned, they vanished into the light one by one. Their armor glinted, then was swallowed whole.
"Families start heading through in groups," Remus said, his voice steady. "Augusta, you take the children first."
Gran Augusta nodded briskly, herding Neville, Hannah, Susan, and the others forward. Professors Flitwick and Sprout stayed close to her, as they helped with ushering the younger ones through. Professor Snape just stood behind me, a dark wall of robes and sharp eyes, watching every movement.
The Delacours stepped through, then the Weasleys in a cluster of red hair. Amelia with Susan. Andromeda and Ted with Dora. Xenophilius with Luna, who looked as if she were walking into a dream she'd already had. Grandpa Nicolas and Grandma Perenell went through with their own trunks floating behind them as if they were headed out on a weekend vacation not a cross planetary adventure.
Other families trunks floated behind, shepherded by house-elves and charmed ropes. One by one, families disappeared into the light until only a few of us remained.
I clutched the portrait tighter. My parents' painted eyes glowed softly, steadying me.
"Your turn, Princess," Dad said gently.
My chest felt tight, but I nodded. "Okay."
I stepped forward, the hum of the wormhole vibrating in my bones. Just before I crossed, I glanced back. Professor Snape's gaze flicked from me to Mum's face in the frame, then away again. Dad just raised his eyebrows at me, the mischief in them gleaming back at me even now.
I took a deep breath and walked into the light.
The world bent and broke around me with colors I couldn't name whirled by me, and sound that wasn't really sound echoed in my bones. My body stretched and snapped back together until my feet hit stone again, I almost tripped because of the sensation, but I managed to stay upright thank Merlin.
I was in Atlantis.
The chamber smelled of salt and old magic. Runes glowed across the walls and floors lighting up under our feet with each step we took. I staggered at the sheer weight of the magic humming through her walls, then straightened. Everyone's voices was finally starting to filter through my awe, one after another, their voices filled the space.
I turned just in time to see Dad, Uncle Remus and Uncle Lucius step through last, as the gate shut down but the ring still glowed faintly in Dad's hand. He grinned, his voice echoing through the chamber.
"Mischief managed." He said with a smile that would put the Cheshire cat to shame.