The chill of the cobblestones seeped through the thin soles of her shoes, yet it could not cool the excitement racing through Hermione's blood. Her little hand was firmly wrapped in Lynn's warm, dry palm, like the only real anchor holding her fast in this bizarre, dazzling new world of blinding color. Not far ahead, Professor McGonagall's dark green cloak parted the crowd like a steady icebreaker, clearing a path for them.
"Look at that!" Hermione cried despite herself, her fingers tightening instinctively as she pointed at a shop window by the roadside. There were no goods inside, only countless colorful bubbles moving without wind, colliding and merging into the shapes of castles, dragons, and even the Hogwarts crest. Then, with a pop, they burst into tiny specks of light before gathering together again. "They're... they're performing?"
"Magic Tricks Shop," Lynn answered softly, glancing at the crooked sign above the window, which looked as though it might fall at any moment. The lettering wriggled like dancing earthworms. "They probably sell little things that make life more interesting."
Hermione's eyes glittered like two polished obsidian stones, greedily taking in everything around her. Outside one shop hung countless small bronze statues of every shape: some resembled owls, some toads, and some even miniature knights. They were not still, but rhythmically, ever so slightly... wriggling their joints, producing faint metallic clicks. From next door drifted a sweetness so rich it was almost overwhelming. Huge glass jars were filled with Chocolate Frogs that hopped on their own, lollipops gleaming in seven colors, and a pink substance that kept changing shape like clouds. The air was also mixed with the musty scent of old parchment, the sharp bite of some pungent herb, and a faint hissing sound like red-hot iron plunged into cold water. That was the smell of magic, Lynn thought.
The Star Stone against his chest rested against his skin, its faint warmth ever-present like a steady heartbeat, echoing the magical energy everywhere around them. The Moon White Stone on Hermione's chest had clearly sensed it too. From time to time, she unconsciously touched it, feeling that strange warmth, her face holding both wonder and a trace of unease.
"Don't be afraid." Lynn noticed the slight tremble in her fingertips. He tilted his head, lowering his voice so only she could hear. "They like it here. Just like... us." He gently squeezed her palm.
Hermione looked up and met his reassuring smile. There was no mockery in his eyes at her amazement, only understanding and a certainty that put her at ease. She took a deep breath, and the strange mingled smells filled her nose, somehow driving away the last of her timidity. She squeezed his hand back, the light of exploration returning to her little face. "Mm!" She nodded hard, her gaze returning to the sweet-smelling shop. "Do those candies... really move?"
"I'll buy you some to try when I get the chance." Lynn smiled, mentally calculating the exchange rate for Gold Galleons.
Just then, Professor McGonagall stopped before a towering building of dazzling white. It stood in stark contrast to the crooked, brightly colored shops around it: cold, solemn, and imposing. Massive bronze doors stood shut, etched with complex patterns resembling intertwined chains and radiating the heavy presence unique to metal. Two guards stood at the entrance. They were short, reaching only Professor McGonagall's waist, their skin an unusual bronze shade as though it had been polished by time, gleaming coldly in the sunlight. Their ears were long and pointed, their tips curving slightly upward, while their noses were long and sharp, nearly taking up half their faces. Most striking were their eyes—large and protruding, an emotionless emerald green. They looked down on passersby despite their height, their gazes openly scrutinizing and arrogant. They wore scarlet robes trimmed in gold like uniforms and held slender metal rods tipped with obsidian.
This was Gringotts! The bank of the magical world. Lynn's heartbeat quickened slightly. The goblin guards from the original story had been cleverly "altered"—bronze skin, emerald eyes, longer noses, and pointed ears. The combination of those details was enough to distinguish them from any familiar image. They were called guardians rather than by any specific racial name.
Hermione was clearly intimidated by the grandeur and the guards' cold stares. She unconsciously pressed closer to Lynn's side, her little hand gripping his more tightly. Without drawing attention to it, Lynn stepped half a pace forward, shielding her slightly behind him.
Professor McGonagall seemed not to notice the guards' arrogance and walked straight ahead. The Bronze Chain Pendant at her chest slipped out from beneath her robes again. The irregular piece of metal gleamed with restrained luster in the sunlight. She raised it toward an inconspicuous bronze-inlaid recess in the great doors.
There was no sound, but Lynn and Hermione both felt an invisible, crushing pressure spreading from the doors, as if some sleeping beast had awakened. Then the enormous Bronze Doors slowly slid inward, soundlessly, as if pushed by an unseen giant hand, revealing a deep space beyond and a cold scent of metal mingled with underground stone.
"Keep up." Professor McGonagall was brief as ever and entered first.
The sight beyond the doors made Hermione suck in another breath. It was an incomparably vast marble hall, its dome so high that its top was almost impossible to see. Huge crystal chandeliers hung overhead, burning with pale, cold flames. The floor was polished like a mirror, reflecting the hurried figures moving about in scarlet uniforms trimmed with gold—all of them guardians. They sat behind rows of high counters made from some dark hardwood, perched on footstools as their emerald eyes sharply watched the wizards before them. Their fingers moved rapidly over thick ledgers, or they weighed metal blocks of various colors on peculiar scales marked with complex measurements. The air was thick with the scent of money, metal, and the cold dampness unique to the deep earth.
Professor McGonagall walked toward a relatively quiet counter. The Guardian behind it raised his eyelids, his emerald eyes sweeping coldly over the three of them. They lingered for a moment on Lynn and Hermione, who were obviously Muggle-born children, carrying a trace of barely concealed contempt.
"Exchange." Professor McGonagall's voice sounded especially clear in the cavernous hall. She took a heavy, ordinary-looking velvet pouch from her handbag and pushed it across the counter. It landed with a dull clink of metal.
The Guardian extended long, knuckled fingers that bore the same bronze sheen and untied the pouch. What poured out was something Lynn and Hermione both knew perfectly well—pounds! Crisp new banknotes and heavy coins.
The Guardian gave a nearly inaudible snort, as though mocking this "inferior" currency. He picked up one coin and ran a fingertip over it. Extremely faint ripples like those on water instantly appeared across its surface, then vanished. He picked up another and repeated the motion. Then he took out a monocle-like lens and carefully inspected the anti-counterfeiting marks on the banknotes, his movements meticulous and almost harshly precise.
The wait felt especially long. Hermione shifted uneasily, her large eyes curiously yet nervously taking in the busy guardians and the various wizard customers around them. An old wizard in a robe full of patches was trembling as he counted several dull copper coins. At the other end, a richly dressed witch impatiently tapped the counter with her fingers while waiting for a Guardian to count a small pile of gleaming gold coins—those were probably Gold Galleons.
Lynn appeared much calmer. His gaze wandered casually around the hall, but he was actually observing the procedures here and the guardians' expressions. He noticed that whenever they handled magical metals, their eyes showed an almost greedy focus.
At last, the Guardian set down the lens and announced a number in his shrill, flat voice. Then he pulled out a heavy tray from beneath the counter. Three kinds of coins lay neatly arranged inside: large, thick, and glittering gold; smaller ones, silvery white with a soft sheen; and smaller still, dull in color and seemingly made of brass. He swiftly counted out the appropriate amounts and pushed them toward Professor McGonagall.
"Gold Galleons, Silver Sickles, Bronze Knuts," Professor McGonagall explained simply. She divided the coins into two small piles and handed them separately to Lynn and Hermione. The Gold Galleons felt heavy in the hand, cool with the distinctive chill of metal, and bore a complex maze-like symbol in relief. The Silver Sickles felt gentler, while the Bronze Knuts were rough and light.
Hermione carefully held her pile of coins as though cradling fragile treasures. Feeling the metal's chill and patterns beneath her fingertips, she was overwhelmed by an unprecedented sense of reality—a reality that belonged to this magical world. She looked up at Lynn and found that he was looking at her too, an encouraging smile in his eyes.
"Put them away," Professor McGonagall reminded them, then gestured for them to follow her toward the other side of the hall. There was a row of small, unmarked doors there.
Lynn and Hermione followed Professor McGonagall through one of the doors. Beyond it was a tiny compartment that could hold only a few people. The door closed silently behind them. Before they could react, the compartment jolted violently, then plunged downward at a startling speed!
"Ah!" Hermione cried out. The intense weightlessness instantly threw her off balance, and she fell backward uncontrollably.
"Careful!" Lynn reacted quickly. His arm wrapped around her shoulders, firmly catching her and keeping her from hitting the cold metal wall. Hermione practically fell into his arms, her little face pale, her heart racing as both hands instinctively clutched the front of his clothes.
The compartment plummeted through a deep, dark shaft, with only a small glowing crystal set into the ceiling providing faint light. Wind howled past their ears, carrying the cold, damp breath of the depths underground. Lynn stood steady, his feet planted as though nailed to the floor. One hand held Hermione firmly by the shoulder while the other braced against the icy wall, bearing the force of the fall and the full weight of the girl in his arms.
"It's okay, Hermione. I'm here." Lynn's voice sounded above her head, steady and strong, cutting through the howling wind. "It's like... riding a very fast elevator." He tried to comfort her with words she could understand.
Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face against his chest, feeling the reassuring warmth and strong heartbeat coming from him. Her nose filled with the faint scent of sunshine on his clothes—it was really the smell of orphanage laundry soap, but at that moment it was incomparably comforting. Every slight jolt of the compartment made her body stiffen, and she gripped his clothes so hard that her knuckles turned white. The Star Stone rested against him through their clothes, while the Moon White Stone rested against her. Amid the rapid descent and their close contact, the two stones seemed to form some strange resonance. A warm current clearer and hotter than ever before, like a faint electric charge, spread from both their chests at once and swiftly flowed through their limbs, driving away the underground chill and, strangely, soothing Hermione's panic.
Slowly and tentatively, she opened her eyes. Her long lashes trembled as Lynn's sharply defined jaw and concerned gaze came into view. The wind still howled, and the sensation of weightlessness remained, but the overwhelming terror had faded by more than half beneath the warmth of his embrace and the strange current flowing through her chest.
"I... I'm okay now," Hermione whispered. Her cheeks heated slightly as she realized she was still holding him tightly, and she stiffly tried to pull back a little.
Lynn sensed her movement. His arm loosened slightly, though he still supported her to make sure she could stand steadily. "We're almost there," he said softly, looking toward the rough rock walls shooting upward outside the compartment.
Sure enough, a few seconds later, the compartment began to slow and finally came to a steady stop. The door slid open without a sound, and an even stronger scent of stone rushed toward them. Outside was a dimly lit tunnel, with burning torches set into the walls, illuminating rough stone and railway tracks stretching into the darkness. A small cart that looked like a mine cart, though more streamlined in design, stood on the rails.
Professor McGonagall stepped out first, as though that hair-raising fall had been no more remarkable than an ordinary walk. She glanced back at the two of them as they helped each other out of the compartment. Her gaze paused briefly on Lynn's hand still resting on Hermione's shoulder, then quickly moved away without comment.
"Get in. Destination: Mr. Li's Vault." Her voice echoed through the empty tunnel.
Hermione took a deep breath of the cold air, her legs still feeling somewhat weak. She quietly released the hand that had been clutching Lynn's clothes, though her fingertips seemed to retain the feel of his fabric and his body heat. She secretly glanced up at him and found him looking at her too, the corner of his mouth holding a faint smile, his gaze gentle.
"Thank you... for earlier," Hermione said in a voice as soft as a mosquito's buzz, the blush on her cheeks deepening.
"It was only natural." Lynn's voice was quiet, carrying the sense that there had been no other possible choice. He casually withdrew the hand supporting her shoulder, but when she prepared to walk toward the cart, he extended his hand again, palm up, and silently waited for her.
Hermione looked at the hand reaching toward her, then at Lynn's encouraging eyes. The feeling of being safely protected in his arms during that rapid fall surged back into her, blending with the lingering warmth of the Moon White Stone at her chest. This time, she did not hesitate at all before placing her little hand back in his palm. This handhold somehow felt more natural than it had at the alley entrance, and even more... reassuring.
The cart started up and traveled deeper underground along the tunnel. Its wheels clattered monotonously over the rails while torchlight danced across the rock walls. Hermione sat close beside Lynn, feeling the warmth in her palm and the steady presence at her side. Her initial fear and shock gradually gave way to a strange excitement. She began curiously studying the enormous metal doors occasionally flashing past on either side of the tunnel, set into the rock walls. Were those the vaults? What was hidden inside?
Lynn held Hermione's soft little hand, feeling the steady warmth from the Star Stone as he looked calmly into the darkness ahead. This was only the beginning, he reminded himself. Yet holding this hand felt like holding the most important anchor he had in this world. He gently brushed the back of her hand with his thumb, earning a slightly shy yet dazzlingly bright smile from her.
The cart traveled through the darkness, carrying two fluttering hearts toward the core of magical wealth and deeper into the entanglement of their shared fate.
The star and moon white silently resonated in the dark depths underground.
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