Title: When Vaults Are Opened.

Disclaimer: So, this is on a website, instead of on the pages published by Bloomsbury or Scholastic or the other awesome publications. Clearly, this is not mine. I only get to play with them.

Pairings: Harry/Draco, Ron/Hermione, past Harry/Ginny, James/Lily, Remus/Sirius (hints).

Rating: M

Warnings: DH spoilers, sexual content, language, mentioned death, EWE.

Full Summary: Harry had always been too curious for his own good. So when he found a certain artifact while looking through the Black vault, he couldn't help but find out what it was. And of course, Malfoy just had to, ahem- help. Which, since this was Harry, brought them here. To 1977. No more excitement indeed.

Author's Notes: I watched Harry Potter DH 1 today when this idea came to me during the scene where Bellatrix freaks out about Harry, Ron, and Hermione going into her vault. I couldn't resist, so I came home and power wrote this. (Which will probably explain all the mistakes in it. I was too hyper to wait before posting it).

This was undignified. Very undignified. In fact, it was so undignified that Draco couldn't believe he was actually following through on this- this...errand. Like some unimportant errand boy. Which, considering he was running an errand for the Headmistress, made sense. But the indignity chafed.

Honestly! He had spent the better half of term trying to keep away from Potter and his ilk and now he was forced to go fetch them. Like a dog. An errand dog.


This was quite probably the nine hundredth classroom he had looked in. Why on earth was Draco looking for Harry Potter and his two sidekicks? Well, that would be because the trio had been absent from the public view since breakfast. He, along with five other eighth year prefects had been given the task of locating the Wonder Boy. He had been given the third floor corridor to search through. It would not have been very exhausting were it not for the fact that a Hogwarts floor was equivalent to all nine floors of the Ministry combined.

And of course Locator Spells wouldn't work on students in the castle because that would just make too much sense.

Draco sighed. Opened the next door and-

Oh thank buggering Merlin!


The boy in question turn around so swiftly Draco was sure he heard a bone crack. Weasley spoke first.

"What is it, Malfoy?"

They were standing suspiciously close to each other. Almost as if- as if they were hiding something behind their back. Granger kept darting glances at her two boyfriends. Potter looked calm. Weasley just looked plain annoyed.

Draco decided to ignore the Ginger Prick. He took a step forward. The three friends moved together even more closely. Yes. Definitely hiding something. "The entire castle is looking for it's Savior, Potter."

"Right, well. Thanks, Malfoy. We'll be right there."

"Haven't got all day, Potter. Headmistress needs you now." Yes, Draco was being difficult. But Potter was hiding something and he wanted to know what, dammit.

"Bugger off, Malfoy. He said he'll be there."

Draco rolled his eyes at the Weasel, took another step closer to the desk, trying to peer over their shoulder. "You wouldn't be so keen to be rid of me because you've got something behind you back now, would you?"

"None of your business," Weasley groused. Granger gave her boyfriend a warning glance.

Draco shook his head dramatically. "Come now, Weasley. Surely you can tell me? For old times sake?"

Potter sighed. "Please Malfoy. It really is none of your concern. You've delivered your message now."

Draco huffed. This was exactly why he had decided to stay away from Potter and mind his own damn business this year. The Gryffindor had a tendency to bring out the worst in him.

"Come now, Potter. Still keeping secrets?"

Potter coughs, and that's when he sees it. There.

Something that looked distinctly like something he had seen in the Ancient Black Archival. He narrowed his eyes at the raven-haired Gryffindor, smirking in satisfaction. He's seen that particular artifact before, long ago...his mother had told him about it.

"Stealing heirlooms that don't belong to3 you, Potter? Didn't think petty theft was your thing."

"It's not theft if you've inherited it, Malfoy."

"But it belongs to the Blacks," Draco wasted no time in stating. "Not that you'd be able to use it anyhow. It needs Black blood, you see. A pair, in fact." Draco felt quite proud of himself, thwarting whatever it was Potter and his little posse had set out to do.

The artifact in question was a small silver disk-like object with a rotating jade sphere in the center. Narcissa never actually told Draco what the object did. It was named the Sphereix. The book Narcissa had inherited from the Black library was never actually clear on what the actual purpose of this was other than to adorn the walls of the Black House. The only thing he did know about the object was that it required two people, a pair, with Black blood running in their veins. The littlest drop would suffice.

"You- you know what this is?" Potter widened his eyes comically. "Know how to use it?"

No. He did not.

"Perhaps," was his answer. "Like I said," Draco stepped closer, ran his fingers over the Sphereix that sat loosely in Potter's hand. Weasley immediately clamped his large hand down on Draco's wrist while Granger held on to his. Merlin forbid he actually come within an inch of touching their precious Potter. "Like I said," he continued with a disdainful glance at Weasley's unrelenting fingers. "Only those belonging to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, such as I, can wield the artifact known as Sphereix."

Those, he would later learn, were the damning words.


Harry felt the tell-tale jerk behind his navel he usually associated with Portkey travel. He could feel Ron bumping into his side and Malfoy pressing against his chest as the traveled to...somewhere. And yet, when the nausea dissipated and he was standing upright again, the disk-like object- Sphereix, Malfoy had called it- clutched tightly in his right hand, it looked as though they were in the same classroom they had been in before the rushing of color and wind.

"Where-" Hermione gasped, her knuckles white against Ron's arm. "Where are we?"

"What did you do, Malfoy!" Ron cried. Harry was sure if he were not busy supporting Hermione, his friend would have surely launched himself onto Malfoy.

Malfoy, like Harry, was looking around the familiar surroundings. "I haven't done anything! In case you hadn't noticed, Weasley, Potter was the one holding the Sphereix, not me."

Harry interjected before either of the two could being a shouting match. "It looks like we're still in Hogwarts, Ron. No need to panic just yet."

Liar, Harry told himself. He was panicking just fine by himself. If they really were in Hogwarts then why had he felt as though he had just been squeezed and folded through time and space as he was wont to do during any magical travel?

He looked down at the Sphereix. It wasn't overly large, nor did it look any different than it had thirty seconds ago. It fit perfectly on his palm, the sphere sitting motionless. Harry had been going through the Black vault since he had never had the chance when he had actually inherited it, and found this among its many treasures. Apparently, some objects were not considered safe even in the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.

But, of all the so called treasures, only this one called to Harry, drew him in, pulled at him like a magnet would to iron. Without thinking, he had pocketed the disk-like artifact and enlisted the help of Ron and Hermione immediately. They had been unsuccessful until now, but Malfoy- Malfoy, of all people- had clued him in on what it might be.

Which landed them...here.

"Harry, Ron!" Hermione, who had wandered over to the window, called out from behind the drawn curtain. They both rushed to her. "What time was it when Malfoy came to look for us?"

Harry looked to the blonde, who shrugged and said, "Just after break. So...about noon."

Hermione pulled the curtain apart harshly. "It doesn't look like noon anymore."

Harry almost gasped, unconsciously tightening his hold on the Sphereix. She was right. It was nightfall, and the stars were shining brightly. A rarity in these late November days where constant cloud cover was more common.

"What the-" Ron stared dumbfounded at the dark grounds. "But how can- what- this can't be...can it?"

Harry pressed the bridge of his nose tiredly. He had barely gotten any sleep lately due to spending day in and day out trying to discover the mystery of the Black artifact, his head hurt more sharply than Voldemort had ever managed. And now. Now at the very best he had time traveled a few hours into the future. At the very worst...well, he didn't much care to think about that.

"Right," He said, looking up at his friends and Malfoy. "Right. We're going to McGonagall and figuring out what the bloody hell is going on, okay?" His tone left no room for argument. Not that he would get any from Ron and Hermione, only Malfoy. Without another word, he strode to the door and stalked toward the Headmistress' office, the other three hot on his heels.

He stated the password confidently, expecting the gargoyle to give way immediately. It did not.

"Abeo," he stated again. When he was forced to repeat it for the third time, he looked at Ron and Hermione questioningly. "Did the password change?"

"No. It's Abeo," Malfoy answered, staring at the gargoyle. "Or it was last I knew."

Harry glared at the guardian. "I know you can hear me, you stupid stone lump. If the password's changed just let us in! It's isn't like you've never seen us before." That did not particularly help. Malfoy snorted. Harry politely decided to ignore the blonde prat. He was not in the mood for Malfoy right now. "Come on, you effing piece of rock!" He had swung his leg out to kick it when the spiral staircase moved with a great rumbling sound not uncommon to the Headmistress's office entrance.

However, it was not the Headmistress that stepped in front of them.

Hermione gasped. Ron cursed. Malfoy gave a somewhat strangled cry, and Harry... Harry only gaped.

"Professor Dumbledore!" Harry thought it was lucky Hermione had found her voice, because Harry was quite certain his had decided to stand up, pack its bags and walk out for good.

"Indeed." The professor observed them over his half-moon spectacles. "Who are you, trying to gain access to my office?"

He looked younger than when Harry had last seen him at the bottom of the Astronomy tower. And more alive.

Again, Hermione answered, or questioned something. Harry was too preoccupied with himself, busy trying to find words that were not But, why the hell are you alive? and You should be fucking dead. Neither, he was certain, would go down well. Best to let Hermione do the talking while he did the staring. And gaping. And basically looking foolish all around.

Malfoy was sure to mock him for that later.

Harry blindly followed as he felt the familiar press of Ron's fingers on his elbow. He led him up after the Headmaster. Harry could do nothing but stare, his mind whirring so fast that all he registered were short words: How? What? Where? But-

He sat through Hermione's explanation quietly, handed over the Sphereix when she removed it from his fingers. The metal had dug ridges into his palm where he held on to it. He had eyes for no one other than the not-so-late Headmaster. Hermione introduced everyone on their behalf, asking questions and answering some in return.

It wasn't until Harry heard "October, 1977" that he reacted. Jerked violently.

So it was Time Travel. Not just a few hours into the future, but days, months, years in the past.

Never again, he promised himself, would he meddle with blatantly Dark artifacts. He had thought he had enough excitement for a lifetime.

Yet, looking at Dumbledore across the familiar desk, chin resting slightly on his long fingers, he knew that was apparently not so.