HP and Godric's Vault - Chapter - 42 (Patreon)

The days in the Godric’s Vault had quickly become a part of Harry’s routine. Between training with Neville, Fred, and George, and exploring the endless maze of forgotten treasures, Harry found himself uncovering new mysteries each time they entered. The Vault seemed to be a bottomless trove of both magical and mundane objects. But today, as they sifted through yet more forgotten trunks and shelves, Harry noticed something peculiar that stopped him in his tracks.

As Fred and George were busy rummaging through a pile of old brooms, Harry’s eyes were drawn to a stack of broken-down furniture in the corner. The desks and chairs appeared much like the others they had seen before: chipped, worn down by time, and clearly long past their usefulness. However, something about these particular pieces seemed different. He could feel it—an odd energy radiating from them.

“Look at this,” Harry said, his voice low with intrigue, drawing Neville and the twins’ attention.

Fred turned around, clutching a half-destroyed broom in his hands. “What? Another pile of broken junk? I thought we’d already seen it all.”

“No,” Harry shook his head, stepping closer to the pile. “These are different.”

George walked over, his eyes narrowing at the old wooden desk in front of Harry. “Different how? Still looks like rubbish to me.”

Harry pulled out his wand, pointing it at one of the broken desks. “Let me show you something.”

With a sharp flick of his wrist, he muttered a powerful repair spell. “Reparo!”

The spell flew from his wand in a glowing arc, striking the broken desk dead center. Fred and George watched expectantly. But instead of the usual satisfying creak and groan of wood being mended, nothing happened. The desk remained completely still—unchanged.

“Huh,” Fred said, scratching his head. “Maybe you didn’t cast it right?”

Harry smirked, shaking his head. “No, I did it right.”

He waved his wand again, this time casting a much stronger spell, one meant for larger repairs. “Reparifors!”

The golden light surged towards the desk with force, but once again, the magic dissipated, as if absorbed by the wood. The desk remained as broken as it had been a moment ago.

George’s eyes widened. “Blimey! Nothing’s happening.”

Fred let out a low whistle. “That’s… unexpected.”

Harry, now grinning, turned to them, clearly pleased with his discovery. “Exactly. You see, these pieces of furniture—desks, chairs, all of it—they’ve been repaired with magic for so long, over and over again, that they’ve built up a resistance to it. Magic doesn’t work on them anymore.”

Fred and George exchanged confused looks, still not entirely understanding why Harry was so excited. “And that’s… a good thing?” Fred asked, tilting his head.

Harry nodded enthusiastically. “It’s more than good. It’s incredible! These desks and chairs have developed a kind of magical immunity. It’s a rare phenomenon. Normally, you can repair things with magic indefinitely, but these have been mended so many times that they’ve become resistant to all forms of magical restoration. They can’t be repaired by magic at all now.”

George raised an eyebrow. “But why’s that so important?”

Harry’s grin widened. “Because it means these are one-of-a-kind. Imagine that—a set of magical items that are immune to spells. It’s a whole new level of magical properties! And I bet we can find a use for them, even if they’re broken.”

Fred finally caught on, his eyes lighting up with realization. “You mean, if they’re immune to magic, they could be useful in places where spells are dangerous or could go wrong.”

“Exactly,” Harry said, pointing his wand again, this time casting a stunning spell at the desk. The spell hit the desk and fizzled out, unable to penetrate the wood. “See? No magic works on them. Not even spells meant to harm. These could be used as shields or as some kind of protection.”

Neville, who had been watching quietly, chimed in. “And in a place like Hogwarts, where magic is everywhere, having something immune to spells… that could be really useful.”

Fred leaned against one of the broken desks, his mind clearly racing with possibilities. “You could use them to prank people,” he said, his mischievous grin forming. “If the furniture doesn’t react to magic, you could set them up in classrooms or the Great Hall—people would be baffled when their spells don’t work.”

George snorted. “Or we could use them to build something that no one can tamper with. Something permanent.”

“Wait,” Harry said suddenly, drawing Fred, George, and Neville’s attention back to him. “Just because we can’t fix them with magic doesn’t mean they can’t be fixed at all.”

Fred raised an eyebrow. “What are you saying, Harry?”

Harry grinned, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “I’m saying we can have Muggle carpenters repair these. They could fix the furniture up, make it look brand new again.”

George blinked in surprise, starting to catch on. “And since magic doesn’t work on them, wizards wouldn’t be able to break, open, or even tamper with them.”

Harry nodded, now fully convinced of the idea. “Exactly! Imagine selling furniture that can’t be opened or destroyed by magic. Wizards would go mad for it—specially enchanted items, like safes or desks, that no one could access with spells. And these old pieces have that naturally built into them. We could sell them for a fortune!”

Fred and George exchanged glances, and Harry could practically see the gears turning in their minds. Their eyes gleamed with excitement, the possibilities of profit sparking their usual mischievous creativity.

“Blimey, Harry,” Fred said, his face breaking into a wide grin. “You’re a genius! Wizards would pay a pretty Galleon for furniture that’s immune to magic.”

George nodded eagerly. “Imagine the customers—the Ministry, private collectors, even Hogwarts might want them.”

“And the best part?” Harry added, his grin matching theirs. “Most wizards wouldn’t even consider Muggle repair methods. They’d just see this as a bunch of broken furniture and ignore it. But we know better. We can take what they see as garbage and turn it into something priceless.”

Neville, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke up. “It’s a brilliant idea. And since these have magical resistance, they’ll last even longer after the repairs.”

The Weasley twins were practically vibrating with excitement now, already envisioning the profits. “We’ll be swimming in Galleons,” Fred said with a laugh. “Who knew the room of broken furniture would be a goldmine?”

George clapped Harry on the back. “You’ve really got a knack for finding hidden opportunities, mate. First the Godric’s Vault, and now this.”

Harry smiled, feeling a sense of accomplishment. He had always been good at spotting potential where others saw nothing. “We’ll need to find a Muggle carpenter who can handle this, but once we do, we’ll have an entire business on our hands.”

Fred leaned against a particularly battered chair, still grinning from ear to ear. “We’ll handle the logistics. Between the two of us, we can find a carpenter in no time.”

“And we can market it to the wizarding world,” George added. “This is going to be big, Harry. Really big.”

As they left the Vault that day, Harry couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. What had started as a simple exploration of an old room had turned into a business opportunity. And while Harry certainly didn’t need the money, the idea of taking something that had been discarded and turning it into something valuable gave him a sense of pride.

Fred and George were already making plans, talking animatedly about how they could refurbish the furniture, which markets to target, and how to make the most profit. Neville seemed content just to be part of the adventure, happy that his friends were finding such success. And Harry, for his part, was just excited to see where this new venture would take them.

Sunday arrived, and Fred and George were buzzing with excitement. They had spent days preparing the Order of the Star clubroom, meticulously furnishing both the public and private spaces with the high-quality furniture they had salvaged and restored. The room was now adorned with luxurious couches, sturdy tables, elegant desks, benches, and ornate shelves that made the place look more like a grand wizarding hall than a simple clubroom.

As the club members filtered in, their reactions were exactly what Fred and George had hoped for. Mouths dropped open, eyes widened, and excited whispers spread through the group. The once simple and modest room had been transformed into a space of sophistication and comfort, every piece of furniture looking brand new.

"Blimey, this place looks amazing!" Hermoine exclaimed, running her hand along the polished surface of a mahogany desk. “Where did you get all of this?”

Others murmured in agreement, marveling at the elegant couches and well-crafted chairs, each piece standing out in its own way, radiating an old-world charm that somehow felt magical without needing any actual spells.

“This is incredible!” Susan said, sinking into a plush armchair near the fireplace. “It’s like a whole new clubroom! How did you even find this stuff?”

Fred and George, grinning like Cheshire cats, shared a look but remained tight-lipped. They were clearly enjoying the attention, but they weren’t about to reveal their secret.

Hannah turned to Harry, who had been watching quietly from the side. “Come on, Harry. You’ve got to tell us where you found this. No way this came from a regular shop.”

Harry just smiled and shook his head. “Sorry, but that’s a trade secret.”

The group groaned in frustration, but there was a playful edge to their complaints. It was clear they were more curious than upset, but no one could deny the magic of what they’d walked into.

“Fine, keep your secrets,” Theodore said with a smirk, “but you lot outdid yourselves. This place looks better than some of the common rooms!”

Fred and George exchanged satisfied glances, clearly proud of their work. “Glad you think so,” Fred said, leaning back in one of the newly restored armchairs. “We like to keep things… interesting.”

George nodded. “And comfortable. Can’t have a proper club without proper seating, right?”

The members laughed, settling into the new furniture, their previous curiosity slowly giving way to appreciation for how much the new setup elevated the atmosphere of the club. The polished wooden tables and intricately carved bookshelves gave the room a sense of history, while the soft couches and chairs made it a cozy, welcoming place.

Harry, still standing by the door, felt a surge of pride. They had taken something forgotten and broken and turned it into something extraordinary. While the others marveled at the furniture, Harry knew this was only the beginning. The real treasure wasn’t just the objects themselves, but the opportunities they held.

After a long absence, Hagrid finally made his way to one of the Order of the Star club meetings. As soon as he entered the newly furnished room, his eyes widened in astonishment. “Blimey, what’ve you lot done to the place?” he exclaimed, running his massive hands over the backs of the elegant couches and sturdy tables. “This looks right grand!”

Fred and George grinned, clearly pleased with Hagrid’s reaction, but before they could respond, the club members swarmed Hagrid with questions.

“Hagrid, did they catch the wizard who hurt the unicorns?” one of them asked eagerly.

“Yeah, what happened in the Forbidden Forest? We heard so many rumors!” another chimed in.

“Is it true what Fred and George said? About what they saw?”

The questions came fast, and Hagrid, who had been anticipating a quiet visit, found himself overwhelmed. He raised his hands to calm the crowd. “Now, now, slow down! One question at a time!” he said, his booming voice filling the room.

He sighed, scratching his beard as he thought for a moment. “Ain’t much I can tell ya ‘bout the unicorns, sadly. Whoever’s been hurtin’ ‘em, we haven’t caught ‘em yet. But don’t you worry! We’re on the lookout, and I’ve got a few suspicions. Ain’t gonna let anyone get away with hurtin’ such innocent creatures.”

The club members exchanged concerned glances, but Hagrid’s words seemed to reassure them somewhat. Then, turning to Fred and George, one of the younger members asked, “So, was your story true? Did you really see something in the forest?”

Fred, ever the showman, leaned back in his chair with a smirk. “Of course it was true. We saw something alright—something mysterious and shadowy moving between the trees. It was probably just shy because it knew how good we are with wands.”

George nodded, adding, “We’re practically unicorn whisperers at this point.”

The room erupted in laughter, though some members still looked a bit skeptical. Hagrid, who had been listening with amusement, chuckled and said, “Those two wouldn’t know a whisper if it bit ‘em on the nose. But they’ve got sharp eyes, that’s for sure. Best to listen to ‘em—sometimes.”

Harry began taking photos of the group hard at work, capturing moments of focused concentration, laughter, and teamwork. Fred and George were deep in conversation over one broom, discussing balance charms, while Neville tinkered with a handle design.

“Oi, Harry!” Fred called out as Harry took a snapshot. “Make sure you get our good side. This is gonna be legendary.”

“Don’t worry,” Harry replied with a grin, clicking the camera again. “I’ll make you two look like the inventors of the century.”

The atmosphere in the clubroom was light and productive, with everyone working together, sharing ideas, and laughing as they attempted to make their broomstick modifications. Even Hagrid got involved, offering advice in his usual, slightly rough-around-the-edges manner.