A very pitched shout rang in his ears as he sat in front of his account manager. Her frantic voice was heard even through the large, thick wooden doors and he felt almost sorry for the goblin that must've been standing right beside the girl.
"I don't think you understand-I...I can't get in those."
The goblin in front of him also seemed distracted by the commotion so he stood up, making his mind to go see it himself. Maybe it might pull him out of his melancholy mood, he mused.
The very first thing he noticed about her was that her hair was…practically everywhere. It seemed to have a life of its own, flailing about the air around her as she tried her best to make the grumpy goblin understand her fear of heights, he guessed.
The goblin grunted. "Witch, this arrangement is only for a month, after which yours and the other vaults will be shifted back to their original places on the bank floors. Until the maintenance is complete, this is the only way to go visit your vault."
The girl looked fearfully at the three stationary carts on what seemed like miles of rails downward into the dark, gloomy caves, and gulped. She looked very pale as she shook her head violently, trying to convey her apprehension.
He suddenly knew it was the time for him to intervene.
"May I help, miss?"
The girl turned towards him, her expression set into one of scepticism and annoyance. "And how will you help? Are you going to magically make my vault appear beside me?"
Her face was set in a terribly convincing stern expression of boldness and frankly, he was amused at the way anger was somehow masking her fear. "I could try."
The goblin scoffed loudly while the girl whipped her head so fast that he feared she might break it. But her neck seemed to be in sync with her antics as she stared at him like she might start cursing him any moment now.
He tried to get to the problem at hand. "Why are you so afraid of the carts, again?"
"I fear those heights. And the speed too. I can't handle either of those."
He was impressed that she was speaking so openly about her phobia. He'd expected her to shut him off, or even deflect the conversation, but she was continuing to impress him.
"So you've never been in them before?"
She shook her head and shrugged. "Never. Nor am I planning on ever."
Looking at her biting her lower lip with her two slightly larger front teeth, his chest throbbed as if in a sign, and his mouth formed the words, "If I accompany you down to your vault?"
The slightly redder lip was released from its prison as she asked, "Why? And how will it help me?"
"I can help you keep your fear at bay. Literally."
When his eyes caught hers for the first time, he forgot to breathe. Those chocolate brown orbs gleamed of barely restrained intelligence, the kind that instantly had his heart by the reins.
It felt like it'd been ages when she spoke again, only to surprise him again. "You want to use passive legilimency to distract me on the ride."
He couldn't help but smile a little, "Yes."
Her mouth set in a line as she said what he'd feared she would say once she knew what he'd proposed. "Thank you for the offer, but I refuse to offer any kind to access to my mind to a complete stranger."
She turned away a little and he tried to explain, "I wouldn't be the only one with the privilege, you know. It works both ways, so you will be able to see my surface thoughts too."
She looked surprised. "I know that. And you're fine with me, a girl you've barely even met, peeking into your mind?"
He was the most reclusive person on the British Isles, he could guarantee. But to this girl, he couldn't help but nod almost immediately.
"How? Why?"
This time she looked like she was positively curious about his answer so he tried to keep his overworking heart at bay and not be overwhelmed by the rapidly increasing blood flow to his face, "Just like that. I love those carts, my family has always had their vaults down there and I visit them from time to time. If I could get you to enjoy them even a tenth of as much as I do, it would make my day."
Her laugh was like those muggle windchimes that his godfather loved so much. Absolutely breathtaking.
"Okay. But what will we talk about on the ride? Or rather, think about?"
"How about favourite things? Like our favourite colour, drink, places to see and so on?"
She nodded, her cheeks a little flushed as he held out his hand and helped her into the middle cart. Taking a seat right opposite hers, he was taken by surprise once again.
"Why didn't you ever come to Hogwarts?"
He was stunned at her casual question, "Wait, you knew all this time who I am?"
She looked at him oddly and he smiled and shook his head. The first person in the whole wide world to treat him like a normal man. Today was beginning to be the most incredible day of his life.
The goblin grunted irritably as he signalled to him, suddenly feeling like taking both her hands in his while leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.
He called out to the goblin, "Pimpledore, we're ready."
She didn't say anything at the gesture and as he looked into her eyes again, he knew he wanted this ride to never end.
A pleasant voice began in his mind.
"I'm sorry for the direct question."
"No, no. It's fine. Your question actually has a one-line answer. My godfather, Sirius Black, he decided it was the best for me to be home-tutored. I'm sure you know about my past enough to guess why that is."
Her voice was comforting and a little teasing as she replied. "Well, he did know the best. You turned out quite fine."
His mood was immediately lifted again, "Which year are you in, seventh?"
"Sixth. I could've skipped my fourth year entirely, but I chose not to. Headmistress McGonagall had told me once to enjoy each of my seven years in Hogwarts to the fullest. And besides, I didn't want to leave Neville and Luna a year early."
"Nev really is the best."
"You know him, Harry? He rarely talks about you."
His name from her lips was like tasting a filling of cookie crumble in an ice-cream cake. He felt warm blood rush to his cheeks again.
"He's my godbrother. And yes, I had asked him to stay silent about me. My godfather and I get enough attention as it is."
"Oh yes. The Daily bloody Prophet."
"I am thinking of buying it. And then fire all of the staff and employ someone worthy of writing news."
"Do it. And I can name you the perfect person for the post of editor-in-chief."
He smirked. "As thy command, my lady."
This time, her laughter did unmentionable things to the inside of his mind. Quite literally.
"Well, I do hope you could attend one year at Hogwarts at least. That is if your godf-"
Another annoying grunt from the goblin had them breaking their gaze with an abrupt end to their little conversation.
Harry felt his heart do a little flip-flop as she looked away, as if suddenly realising that they'd been conversing in their minds. She looked around with wide eyes, and exhaled loudly.
"That was amazing. I didn't even feel a thing."
Harry smiled. "Told you I could help."
She smiled shyly as he moved to help her out of the cart like a gentleman his godfather had raised him to be. "Thank you."
That breathless whisper did something to his heart that was unfathomable. Something had definitely shifted inside him. He could feel it. He could touch it. And he welcomed it.
"Vault number 1109. This way."
Even a fire-breathing dragon couldn't tear his gaze away from her as he engaged her in conversing about anything and everything. Twenty minutes and an even more annoyed goblin later, they were back to the carts and this time, their mind-versing was even better. If that was even possible.
Too sooner than he would like, a goodbye was imminent. But Harry Potter had made up his mind.
It was when he was set to dream about her that night, he facepalmed. He hadn't remembered to ask her name!
Nineteen days later, the sixth-year girl with a purring kneazle beside her was having her breakfast when a beautiful snowy white owl flew across the Great Hall of Hogwarts and landed gracefully on the table in front of her.
The sudden appearance of the most stunning creature had the Hall in whispers and all of the eyes on the Gryffindor table.
"Aren't you the most beautiful owl?" The fiery-haired girl cooed as she fed it a piece of bacon from her plate. She saw her best friend, Neville, grinning widely at her across the table while Luna seemed to eye her with a curious expression.
"What?" she asked.
Neville simply smirked.
"Does she belong to you, Neville?"
Before he could reply, a familiar voice from the far end of the Hall, making her jump. Harry Potter was walking towards her, his appearance not a sickle short of what she'd once imagined how wizards would've looked before coming to Hogwarts. If Mr. Darcy was real, he could definitely take some pointers from Harry Potter.
"No, Hedwig is mine."
He had done the impossible. She looked around and saw that even the overexcited Gryffindor table had been rendered speechless by this surprise entrance.
She stood up from the bench. "Harry! What are you doing here?"
"Ever since our cart ride in Gringotts, you've been trending in my dreams, Hermione Granger. So, I took your advice."
Despite her flaming cheeks, she managed to ask, "What advice?"
The Headmistress had arrived then, the tiniest hint of smile on her face. She came to a stop beside them both, the onlookers staring in fascination.
McGonagall focused on Harry as she said, "Welcome to Hogwarts, Mr. Potter. Shall we get you sorted?"
Hermione gaped at him in shock as he winked.
AN: Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment? Even a short one!