"Hermione," her mother said slowly as she took in the humungous pile of things her daughter purchased sitting in the middle of the living room. "I thought the point was to relax from your list, not add things to it."

"I've solved it!" Hermione said proudly.

"Solved it?" Menelaus asked. "Solved what?"

"The limit! I've figured it all out!" she declared excitedly. "Penelope helped."

"Penelope? Who's Penelope?" Helen asked in confusion. The blonde woman raised a hand as she stepped out from behind the mountain of enlarged tents, bags of holding, traveling trunks and other extradimensionally enlarged containers.

"That would be me," the young woman said nervously. "Hello. Um, nice to meet you?"

"Hello," both parents said, giving her a confused wave. Hermione's parents turned back to their daughter. "Why don't you explain from the beginning?" her father suggested.

"And where's Harry?" her mother inquired.

"He's sending out his flock of owls to our friends who live on the magical side of things so we can save them from the bombs," Hermione explained.

"I'm with your father," her mother said. "Let's start at the beginning."


Harry's letters were quite simple. They included a copy of the information packet he got from Vault-Tech (generously copied by Penelope) and a letter asking that they consider Hermione's plan. He explained briefly the muggle war and what was happening and what people thought could happen. He addressed them to each family of every student he knew, except for those whose parents he knew were Death Eaters, and asked them for a return letter.

Unfortunately for everyone, Harry would not get the response he hoped for. While if this had happened a year earlier, people would have probably paid attention to his words, this year Harry's reputation was quite tainted. Constant disparaging comments from Fudge via the Prophet and other publications had ruined almost all credibility the boy had. After his warning that Voldemort had returned and the Minister's reaction to it, his letter was seen as just another attempt at an attention whore at getting more attention. His warning was almost entirely disregarded except for a select few.

Hundreds would suffer the consequences of Fudge's arrogance and refusal to see the truth.


"Wait," Menelaus Granger said, holding up a hand. "let me get this straight. You're going to use magic to bypass the rules to save people's lives and to ensure that your children have a magical education?"

"Yes, precisely," Hermione said.

"Have you considered why they might have those rules?" Helen asked. "They might have very good reasons for the limits."

"Yes, but magic can fill in the blanks," Hermione said. "We might even be able to visit each other's vaults."

"There are magical items that allow for communication, Mrs. Granger," Penelope explained. "I could easily set one up so that you could keep in contact with Hermione. Without arranging something specific, I'm not sure about travel, but communication is certainly possible."

"Think of all the people we'll save, Dad, Mum," Hermione pleaded. The two adults shared a look, their expressions neutral, as together they sought to find the right response.

"Okay," her mother said finally. "So long as you're sure it's safe for everyone involved. I don't want you to end up hurting an entire vault to save a few people."

"We won't," Hermione said. "I've thought of everything."

"We're serious," Menelaus stressed. "As sad as the idea of your friends dieing is, I don't want you to try to save a few and doom the many."

"For all we know, overcrowding might cause the vault not to shut," her mother cautioned.

That gave Hermione a bit of pause. "If that's the case, we'll just have to shut it ourselves. They can't snap my wand if they can't find me."

Hermione's parents had rarely, if ever, seen this side of their daughter. In their experience, Hermione rarely did anything that wasn't according to the rules. She had been a very obedient girl, and perhaps that strictness to the rules was what caused her to be ostracized in primary school. Now older, fifteen, nearly sixteen, she was a young woman, no longer just a girl, and had developed a streak of occasionally breaking the rules. As Harry had noted, when she broke the rules, she didn't just do so half way.

"The owls are away," Harry said as he walked into the room. Heads turned to him and it was only then that he noticed the tense atmosphere. "Is this about Hermione breaking the rules?"

Her parents nodded.

"It's okay," Harry said. "She only breaks the rules when people's safety is in danger, then there's no stopping her."

"Hermione's a rule breaker?" the girl's parents asked in utter confusion.

"Only when it counts," Harry said. "When lives are on the line. Like the time she set a teacher's robes on fire when I was being hexed off my broom. Or when a mass murderer was after a magical artifact and we had to stop him. Or when the Ministery of Idiots was going to have my godfather's soul sucked out."

"When you tell those things out of context, it really sounds bad, Harry," Hermione chided. Harry looked at her with a look of confusion almost equal to her parents'.

"Even in context they were bad. If not worse," Harry replied.

"She did save my life when there was a basilisk loose in Hogwarts," Penelope Clearwater put in. "It's gaze normally kills, but Hermione figured out a way to lessen the effect."

The two elder Grangers looked at Hermione as if she was an alien they had never seen before.

She shrunk down slightly and blushed.

"She's saved my life several times," Harry said. "If she hadn't helped me with the summoning charm, I'd have been eaten by a dragon. Oh, don't worry, she wasn't in any danger that time. Not like when we were in the Forbidden Forest running from a werewolf and soul sucking dementors or the time when Voldemort was eating unicorns there."

"Harry?" Hermione asked sweetly.

"Yeah?"

"Please stop helping," she answered in the same sweet voice. "You're acting a bit like Ronald."

"I am?" Harry asked. He turned back to the Grangers. "But don't worry, we'll be in a vault and hidden away, so it will be much more difficult for those kinds of things to happen."

"It will be okay, really," Hermione said with a tinge of worry slipping into her voice. "And those things are out of context and not really representative of our school life. Really. Those are very rare, isolated incidents."

With that last statement, she gave Harry a not-so-subtle look for him to keep his trap shut. Expressing wisdom that often avoided him, Harry did not make another comment on the subject. No one said anything for quite a while.

"Um," Penelope Clearwater asked nervously. "Is it okay if I stay here? All my stuff is here and I'd like to pack it all up."

The elder Grangers looked at each other, sighed and then waved for her to do whatever.


Over the next few weeks, Harry's owls returned. Hedwig, clearly the boss, stayed with him the entire time, but he waited. A few owls had rejection letters, but most came back empty.

"I don't understand," Harry said, in an exasperated tone. "They don't say anything at all, or they think I'm making it all up. I don't get why people are calling me a liar and a freak. All I'm doing is trying to save lives."

"Harry, just because people returned an owl without a response doesn't mean they aren't thinking about what you have to say," Hermione said.

As if on cue, the front door chimed. Her parents still at work as they tried to wrap up the last few appointments left before they packed up the practice for the vault (having come around to Hermione's point of view), and Penelope trying to convince some friends of hers to join them, there was no reason for anyone to visit.

Hermione opened the door to find an unexpected surprise.

"Professor Dumbledore?" the girl asked in surprise. "What brings you here today?"

"You and Mr. Potter, actually," Dumbledore replied. "May I come in?"

Hermione stepped away and motioned for him to join them. He saw the living room and chuckled.

"I had heard about your escapades in Diagon Alley, but had not expected this," the old man commented with a laugh. Hermione blushed brightly at being caught. The headmaster waved them down and shook his head. "No worries. Perhaps we should all sit down."

When the three of them were settled, Dumbledore pulled out three packages. He handed two to Hermione and one to Harry. "Presents from Sirius and Remus. One of those is for your parents, Miss Granger."

"What are they?" Harry asked.

"Open them up and see," the professor told them kindly.

"Mirrors?" Harry asked.

"Special mirrors, Harry," Dumbledore said, pulling up his glasses so he could look at the mirror. "Padfoot's Pad." He paused a moment before the sound of a bell lit up from the glass.

"Professor! So I assume you've arrived?" the sound of Sirius Black said from the mirror.

"Yes, I was just showing Harry and Miss Granger how they worked," Dumbledore replied, using his reading specs to see the man's image on the glass. He glanced over to where the teens were gaping in amazement. Dumbledore passed the mirror back to its new owner. "You see, Harry, say either the residence or person you want to speak to, and if they've got a mirror, you can speak with them."

"Sirius?" Harry asked.

"Hello, Harry," his godfather replied. "Good to see you."

"Are you back? What's going on?" Harry asked excitedly, Hermione crowding in beside him.

"I'm around, but we probably won't be able to see each other before you head to the vault," Sirius explained.

"You know?" the teens demanded.

Sirius and Dumbledore nodded. "Someone we know spotted you at the Vault-Tech informational."

"But-"

"Harry, you're safest where you are now and then in the vault," Sirius said. "We might not be able to be around each other physically, but that doesn't mean we can't talk on a regular basis. No range limit. Takes messages, buzzes if you've got a caller."

"I wanted to see you," Harry said.

"And I wanted to see you, but it's too dangerous for me right now and too dangerous for you to be out in public," Sirius argued. "The most important thing for me is that you be safe. More than anything else. You're my godson, and even if I wasn't around for most of your life, I'm not going to endanger you just to hang out. And this way, we're never out of touch."

"There's a whole group of people who have these mirrors," Dumbledore explained. "We wanted to be able to keep in touch and this was the best way for us to do so."

"It's an old Marauder invention," Sirius explained. "We'll give you the instructions on how to make them and how to link them up to the network of mirrors." He grinned. "there's other presents too."

Dumbledore passed Harry a large box.

"This is everything we could find of your parents, their lives and some other personal items," Dumbledore said. "Everything from your father's Quidditch trophy to your mother's charms notes when she was working on her mastery. Unfortunately, she was never able to achieve it, since she went into hiding, but she was a Charms mistress in all but name. The third present is for the both of you."

He held out a small trunk.

"This contains a copy of every book in my collection, your mother's collection, the Black Family Library, the Hogwarts Library and several others," he said. "I'd heard you were worried about the future, and we wouldn't want that to happen."

Hermione almost looked like she was about to drool. Her fingers twitched.

"It's charmed to open as soon as you enter the vault," Dumbledore said with a chuckle at her disappointment. "The books on top have many charms for managing a library and enchanting buildings for size. Should be useful."

"Thankyouthankyouthankyouthan kyou!" Hermione said as she tackle-glomped the old man, much to his surprise. With a light chuckle he patted her on the head and managed to extricate himself from her grasp.

"Yes, yes," he said. "However, I do have a request of you, Harry."

"Anything," the boy agreed.

"A dangerous thing to volunteer," Dumbledore said with a chuckle. "But not this time. I simply need you to open the Chamber of Secrets."

Harry's eyes grew wide.

"Why would you want that?"

"Well, to be honest," Dumbledore began, "we'd like to have it open to the full school, as it is a part of our history. Second, we'd like to ensure that nothing else is a danger to the school there. And thirdly, and perhaps most important, is simple incurable curiosity about the place. Only you, Fawkes and Miss Weasley have been there and I must admit, I do want to see this basilisk."

"Sure," Harry said. "But we should clear it with the Grangers first."

"I'm coming too," Hermione said.

"Why don't we bring your parents as well, Miss Granger," Dumbledore suggested. "It's rare that the parents of muggleborns are able to see the school their children spend so much time in."

"I'm sure they'd love to go," Hermione said. And she was right. The Grangers accepted almost the moment it was proposed.


"Is it just me, or is Hogwarts a bit scary now?" Harry asked. The formerly red stone and brick looked like it had some kind of sludge creeping up the walls.

"That would be the lead you mentioned to Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore explained.

"I was thinking of somewhere smaller, but this works," Harry replied.

"Why are you covering the school in lead?" Mrs. Granger asked.

"From what we've been able to determine, Hogwarts is not near any large target," Dumbledore explained. "I truly have no idea if it is going to work, but we've been hoping to turn this into a vault of our own, so to speak, should the worst occur."

"Where are you getting the lead?" Hermione asked. "It must be very expensive."

"Professor Flitwick has developed a mining charm that allows metals to be pulled towards the caster directly from the stone," Dumbledore explained. "It's a combination summoning and detection charm. And, to our great surprise, there was an old abandoned lead mine not too far from here."

"So you're literally just pulling it out of the ground?" Mr. Granger asked.

"Yes, it does make mining quite easier than muggles do it, and allows us to circumvent the normal process to extract the ore, which is a much more pleasant experience," Dumbledore agreed before continuing. "We've also acquired a growing stock of gold bullion that I'm not sure what to do with."

"You could fix that illusionary step on the moving staircase," Harry suggested, rubbing his shin in phantom pain.

"I doubt it would surprise you that you are not the first to suggest that, nor, in fact, the tenth," Dumbledore replied with a playful grin. "But we'll add it to the growing list. There's copper and silver in lesser quantities that we retrieved from some abandoned mines in England. Just for testing."

"Of course," Mr. Granger agreed with a grin. "Any chance you could teach Hermione that spell?"

"I could, of course, but unfortunately, it wouldn't help Miss Granger since the Ministry would cause trouble so long as she was out of school, and unfortunately, we do not have any known precious metal deposits on the campus," Dumbledore said as they walked up to the doors of the castle. "Welcome, Mr and Mrs. Granger, to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Like everyone who walked into the castle for the first time, the Grangers looked up and gaped.

"I so enjoy seeing that on people's faces," Dumbledore admitted. "I really should override the board and have that Parent/Teacher day I've always wanted." He paused and his expression darkened. "Well, I suppose that won't happen right now."

"There's a saying," Mr. Granger said. "'Hope for the best, but plan for the worst.' I think it applies here."

"Yes, I very much agree," Dumbledore said. "Now, if you'll look to your left, this is where Hermione, Harry and their friend Ronald Weasley encountered a mountain troll. Between the two of them with some fine casting and quick thinking for first years, Ronald and Harry managed to subdue it." His eyes twinkled. "Your daughter lied to the faculty and took the blame, even though she was completely innocent. And the boys were only looking out for her, and therefore would have not been punished."

Hermione was bright red and didn't even see Harry's bemused expression.

"I'm glad we got the whole story or this would have been a bit more startling," Mr. Granger admitted. "Are these events common?"

"Unfortunately, the last four years yes, well outside of the Defense professor," Dumbledore admitted. "Every time we take precautions to safeguard the children something happens."

"Like Lucius Malfoy sicking a giant venomous snake with death vision on the school," Harry put in.

"Was he punished?" Mrs. Granger asked.

"There was no evidence, even if we know beyond a doubt that he was guilty," Dumbledore admitted. "And even then he has deep pockets and plenty of 'contributions' to go around."

"He bribes people?" the Grangers asked, positively scandalized.

"Oh yes, and he's rather blatant about it," Dumbledore replied. "And he's not punished for that because the people he bribes are in charge of the people who would ordinarily punish him. Add to that the fact that those same people are also in charge of the courts, we have a much greater problem."

"I'd say you do. Racism, bribery, corruption, attempted murderers walking away Scot-free," Menelaus Granger grumbled. "I don't see much to like about your government."

"Ah, yes, I expect you've been speaking to Miss Clearwater, then?" the Headmaster inquired. The Grangers nodded. "Hers is a particular tragedy in my opinion. Brilliant girl, personable, witty. Skilled with a wand to a point where one might call her an artist of spellwork. Unfortunately the only Ministry heads who would hire her would do so for her pretty face and, shall we say, other outward bits of anatomy rather than the brain that powers her. And I can assure you, I am just as disgusted about it as you are."

"Here it is, Myrtle's residence," Dumbledore said, standing before a girl's lavatory.

"Why are we in a lady's lavatory?" Mrs. Granger asked.

"Because either Slytherin was a pervert of the highest caliber, or this room was converted at a later point in history," Dumbledore explained. "As I'm sure your daughter can tell you, Hogwarts was, at one point, much larger in population to the point that there were three instructors for every subject instead of one for each as it is today. This wing was the 1-3 year wing for Charms and Transfiguration."

"Ah, I think that goes from 'pervert of the highest to caliber' to 'disgusting sicko pedophile' in my honest opinion," Mr. Granger said.

"I think quite a few would agree with you, as do I, because I can't see how a lavatory could be installed and have the entrance marked on a facet after the fact," Dumbledore said in agreement, pointing to a little squiggly mark on one sink. "Harry, if you will..."

"Open," Harry hissed. The Grangers jumped at the sound issuing forth from the boy's mouth. Parsletongue isn't just a hissing sound. It's an unnatural noise when it comes from a human's mouth. When snakes hiss, it usually means they're upset and therefore about to strike, which naturally makes listeners nervous. But when it came to human mouths issuing the same sounds, there was just something intrinsically wrong about that sound. Harry shrugged at his companions' discomfort, but the Grangers were equally unnerved as the entrance opened before them like a snake's maw widening to swallow them whole.

They made their way down the tunnel, Dumbledore transfiguring supports to the ceiling and steps in the tunnel. Eventually they made it to the next door and into the gigantic room Harry remembered all too well.

"YOU FOUGHT THAT?" all three Grangers exclaimed. The last few years had not served the Basilisk well. Harry had been running on adrenalin and phoenix tears the last time he'd seen the thing and if anything, it was a mite more scary now that it had time to decompose. The skin was whole, clinging to the skeleton like a wet tent over poles, but the flesh had liquified and drained out either end in putrid pools on the stone floor. Once out of the body, it had become a fertile bed for fungi, in particular a type that seemed to glow in the dark slightly with a nasty purple tinge. The fangs, save for the one Harry had removed to stab the diary, hung out of its mouth like a series of great knives lined up side by side. The holes where its eyes had once been now sagged towards the ground, turning them into obscene ovals that seemed focused on whoever was in the room.

"Oh my," Dumbledore exclaimed. "Harry, my boy, when you said it was big, this is a bit more than I had imagined at the time."

Harry just shrugged. "It looks smaller now."

"Yes, well, growing as much as you have since then will do that," Dumbledore replied. He flicked his wand and the torches sprung up about him in a blaze of light. "Yes, this might do nicely."

"For what?" Hermione asked as she got over the big giant snake. It was easy to see how Ginny would call Harry a hero for killing something that big.

"For a secondary greenhouse, Miss Granger," Dumbledore explained. "And now that we're down here, I can break the parsletongue enchantments and allow anyone to enter. Thank you Harry."

Harry just gave a slightly non-committal grunt.

"I wonder what else is down here," Harry pondered. "I didn't really have time to explore. The snake came out of that hole over there and there are plenty of these other tunnels. Might be something very interesting so long as Voldemort left it behind when he first showed up."

"I suppose that depends on your definition of 'interesting' something we're not going to test at the moment," Menelaus commented dryly. "Personally, I think we should go explore. Harry, why don't we go look at that missing step you mentioned earlier?"

The boy shrugged but was perfectly willing to go with the flow. He didn't have any good memories of the Chamber of Secrets, anyway. As they gave the tour, the two adult Grangers noticed that Harry didn't really have any good memories of Hogwarts either, which made his assertion that it was his first real home all the more disturbing. Almost every place they visited was "I was nearly killed here" or "Malfoy tried to hex me here" or "over there is where I almost got bitten by a werewolf." It was disturbing to think the boy considered Hogwarts a nicer place than his aunt and uncle's. Hell, this was a place where most of the school treated him like he was a mass murderer simply because he knew how to hiss in a special way. Granted, it was a creepy hiss, but it didn't deserve the reaction it got. That's not even getting into the kids' 4th year. That tournament was a nightmare.

The more the two teens talked about their adventures, the more the Grangers thought the Vaults were a better idea. Sure, they might not ever get to see Hermione in person again, but at least they'd get to speak more often, and in video. Knowing she was safe was more than enough for the couple. Still, it was wonderful to learn of the world she had lived in for the past four and something years.


"Yes, Sirius, the Basilisk hide is still intact, why?" Dumbledore asked later on at the Order meeting.

"I just think Harry deserves something for killing it. What could be better than a new coat?" Sirius replied with a grin. "And some new glasses. He tends to squint in the sunlight."

"Oh, not the aviators," Remus moaned.

"He'd look awesome in aviators," Sirius protested. "And hey, whatever happened to my motorbike?"

"Hagrid still uses it. Prefers it to-" Albus cut himself off and stared at the younger man. "Are you doing what I think you're doing?"

Sirius Black leaned back in his chair, tucked his hands behind his head and smirked.

"Sirius Black, I doubt that setting him up as some kind of lone wanderer with a Union Jack plastered across his back is a good idea at this stage," Remus criticized.

"Hey, you can't complain about my ideas being bad. I wasn't the one who decided to act as a courier to the werewolves and almost got a silver bullet in the head," Sirius replied.

"And yet, even when getting shot at, my idea was still more successful than yours," Remus pointed out.

"What are you talking about?" Tonks asked in confusion. "Harry's just going to be a Vault Dweller, so why does any of this stuff matter?"

"Sirius used to dress up as a 'lone wanderer' to pick up girls at clubs," Remus said.

"Did the 'lone wanderer' thing ever work?" Tonks asked, looking like she was about to burst into laughter.

"No," Remus said, cutting off his friend. "It never, ever worked."

"Sure it did! Don't you remember that time when I met that girl with the leather?" Sirius asked.

"He thought you were a paying customer," Remus informed him.

"What?" Sirius replied, completely flabbergasted. Sirius shook his head and changed the subject rather than confront his own insecurities. "What's the plan with Harry?"

"Vault Day is August 1st," Tonks reported. "That's the day the doors close and there's no getting out until the danger has passed."

"The day after Harry's birthday," Sirius commented.

"Odd birthday present," one of the other Order members commented. "What about the letters, do you think he'll get any takers?"

"Most of the people who would be interested are already being smuggled by me, or are in on our other project," Tonks reported. "There are a few more, but it's hard to tell. Harry sent one to almost everyone he knew, save for Death Eaters."

"That's a bit of a concern," Dumbledore commented glumly. "In the letter, did he say what vault he was in?"

"Not in the letter I received," an Order member reported. "Only that it existed."

"Troubling. I do hope we can stop Voldemort from invading any vault," the old man commented. "They would be like sitting ducks."

"I'm not so sure," Tonks said. "Those Mr. Handy robots can do some real damage if they have to. I wouldn't want to be on the wrong end of a Plasma Defender or whatever they're packing."

"Yes, yes, quite right," Dumbledore muttered as he glanced down at his notes briefly. "UK-13 is the vault in question, correct Nymphadora?"

"Yes, and don't call me Nymphadora," Tonks replied.

"Perhaps we should just add a few reasonable precautions against magical attack and transportation," Dumbledore said, completely ignoring her naming demand.

"I've got some time off coming up," Bill replied, repositioning himself in his chair. "I could take care of that for you. They're Ron's friends. I want to do my part."

"Ah, yes, thank you William," Dumbledore replied. "Very well, then we shall continue on the morrow."


It was easy enough for a wizard to find out the location of UK-13, if one had a little knowledge of the muggle world. A few notice-me-not spells and a dissillusionment charm, Bill was in and out of Vault-Tech London with the information he needed and on his way to the white cliffs of Dover, leaving the Securitrons looking for a muggle spy with a Stealth-Boy.

When Bill arrived at the Vault, he was surprised to find it wide open with very few guards other than a few of those muggle golems. Luckily for him, confundus charms work equally well against AI's as they do regular people. Convinced he was an expected worker, Bill Weasley set to work.

It should be noted that William Weasley and Albus Dumbledore have very different opinions of what constitutes "reasonable precautions" when it comes to ward scheme. Dumbledore would have just put up an unplottable ward, and perhaps an anti-apparation ward based on rune stones placed outside the vault.

Bill, on the other hand, learned everything he knew about warding through curse breaking in Egypt. The Ancient Egyptians held "cursed tomb" to a higher level of expected quality than subsequent civilizations, to the point that those multi-millenial ward schemes were still killing people today almost as effectively as they had two or even three thousand years previous. As a part of curse breaking, one had to learn the warding schemes inside and out until they were second nature. A common practice tactic was for older curse breakers to ward up "dummy tombs" for the younger ones to practice on. They didn't pull any punches, and there had been a number of fatalities during dummy tomb exercises. Bill Weasley, though quite young for his profession, was chosen repeatedly to make those dummy tombs.

Bill did not rely on outlying runestones to anchor the wards, in opposition to the more traditional British ward style. He instead used the structure of the Vault itself as the anchor, much like the architects and warders of the Pharaohs had done with the pyramids. He chose to inscribe the runes on vital objects, such as support columns and installed furniture that was permanently bolted down. More than once he covered up his runic arrays with the propaganda posters displayed in various parts of the vault.

For the wards themselves, Bill did not choose simple misdirection, but made things much more vicious. Apparation, for example, would be a very bad idea for both entrance and exit to the vault. He set up a special plague ward on the outer doors that was locked to intent, so that anyone attempting to gain entrance for the purpose of harming those inside would become deathly ill in an instant. If they left quickly their health would return. If they returned a second time with intent to do harm, there was no cure. Inside, he set up things for longevity and preservation, which would work towards keeping the muggle machines functioning without replacement parts for some time. There would be no issue of water purification chip failure in this vault.

When he came to the entertainment facilities, his plans changed. These facilities, which seemed to consist of several rooms each two to three times the size of the Great Hall, were set under bulbs that did their best to mimic real sunlight. While not was warm or bright, they gave off light that was perfect for photosynthesis which is why the vault designers chose real grass for the rooms. Each room had about two meters of soil with a layer of sod on top. It was just seeding now, but it would be impressive once it grew.

"I wonder what this place is for," Bill, the pureblood wizard, asked out loud. With his upbringing Bill did not recognize a football pitch when he saw it. "It's long enough, but not tall enough for Quidditch, and there aren't any bleachers. Must be a garden." He glanced at the walls of the first room. "Good time to try out that plant fertilizing ward I learned in the Hanging Gardens when I took that trip to the Fertile Crescent."

Thinking he was doing a good deed, Bill inscribed a ward scheme on the room that had not been on the Hanging Gardens of Babylon as he believed, (Bill did not speak the local tongue with any proficiency), but in the gardens and temples of the Goddess Ishtar on the other side of the street. While it would improve plant growth and prosperity in the rooms, the fertility ward wasn't limited to plants.

He finished up after two days of steady work, with only brief breaks for personal needs and a good night's sleep. He left Vault UK-13 as the sun was ducking under the horizon, and cast a few spells to ensure the wards activated as soon as the vault door shut. Satisfied with his work, he set off to his London flat for a brew and a night in a warm bed.