Several days later, on a brisk morning, Zayn stood watching as Eileen pried up a loose floorboard in the sitting room with the tip of her wand.
"Not this one..." she muttered, prodding the dirt and gravel beneath with the tip. "Reparo."
The process repeated seven times. Only then did she finally extract a small, dull gold key, wiped it clean with the sleeve of her robe, and slipped it into her pocket.
Seeing all that, Zayn lowered his expectations about this supposed "vault" to the floor.
"Let's go," Eileen said softly.
She Side-Along Apparated him to the entrance of the Leaky Cauldron. The instant they landed, Zayn bent over and gasped, hands on knees, gulping down air. It took him a full minute to recover.
"Are you all right?" Eileen looked down at him with faint concern. "You'll get used to it eventually."
"I'm fine," Zayn muttered, swatting at his ears like they were ringing. "Let's go inside."
They passed through the dim pub and into the familiar bustle of Diagon Alley.
It was Zayn's first time stepping foot in the towering, ivory-white building that loomed over every other shop on the street—Gringotts.
They approached the long counter where a goblin sat idle, polishing something metallic with exaggerated care.
Eileen tapped the desk gently. "Good morning. We need access to the Prince family vault."
The goblin took the small key, examined it thoroughly, then gave a curt nod.
"Very well. I'll summon a guide. Griphook!"
Griphook?
Zayn blinked, startled. A goblin with long fingers and dark, leathery skin approached, his slanted black eyes narrowing as he caught Zayn staring.
"I don't like your look, wizard," Griphook hissed.
Zayn immediately looked away.
He had no illusions about Griphook's temperament. Best not to tempt fate—at least not until they'd seen what was in the vault.
Griphook led them down a heavy iron corridor and through a thick door.
With a sharp whistle from the goblin's lips, a mine cart came hurtling along its track with a metallic clang.
They climbed in. Griphook shoved a lever forward, and the cart jolted into motion.
Cold wind blasted Zayn's face as they descended at breakneck speed into the maze-like tunnels below the bank.
They flew past stalactites, underground waterfalls, and lakes as vast as oceans.
After leaving behind a cavern full of monstrous stalagmites, the cart finally slowed and rolled to a stop beside a vault door.
Griphook hopped out, slotted the key into the lock, and pressed his palm against the metal.
With a hiss, the vault door vanished.
Zayn peered inside.
His breath caught.
Mountains of Galleons glinted under enchanted torchlight. Shelves were crammed with potion bottles, bundles of dried herbs, leather-bound books, and tightly rolled scrolls.
"You call this 'a little bit of gold'?"
He turned to Eileen, raising an eyebrow. "You should take a look."
She leaned in, jaw slack, blinking rapidly.
"Well," Zayn exhaled, "I think we're set for life."
They loaded two bags full of Galleons and rocketed back to the surface.
"We should do some shopping," Eileen said as they stepped into the sunlight. She eyed the frayed cuffs of Zayn's robes and the Muggle trainers peeking out beneath.
"You need new robes. And you could pick up next term's books ahead of time."
"It's fine," Zayn said. "I'll wait for my O.W.L. results. Besides, I like old textbooks. Some of them still have my notes in them."
Just before they exited Gringotts, Zayn hesitated.
"Wait… Can we exchange some for Muggle currency? I want to buy a few things. Muggle-made. Clothes. Daily stuff."
"Daily stuff?" Eileen asked, confused.
"Like shampoo," Zayn muttered.
He knew it sounded ridiculous. Wizards had potions for that.
Predictably, Eileen raised a brow.
"What about Sleekeazy's Hair Potion?"
"I don't like the smell," Zayn said stiffly. "It makes me nauseous."
"Then get me some too."
She shoved a pouch into his hand. "Whatever you need, buy it yourself."
After picking up a new set of robes at Madam Malkin's, they wandered slowly down the alley, each enjoying a cone from Florean Fortescue's.
Outside Quality Quidditch Supplies, a wall of children had pressed against the glass.
Zayn looked over their heads at the display broom: sleek, gleaming, and clearly top of the line.
The sign beneath it read:
Nimbus 1500 – Fly at lightning speed! Precision-crafted birch handle, aerodynamic design, polished with pure spellwork. Accelerates from 0 to 60 mph in ten seconds! Peak speed: 107 mph. The ultimate broom for the serious flier.
"I don't want it," Zayn said quickly, seeing Eileen's glance. He swallowed a bite of ice cream. "I don't play Quidditch."
When they got home, Zayn pulled his battered set of Gobstones from his trunk and set them on the wooden table.
"Want to play a round? I saw an old Daily Prophet article in the Hogwarts library saying you were captain of your school team."
"I haven't touched these in years," Eileen said, fingers hesitantly brushing one of the grimy little stones.
"Come on. We've got time."
Zayn sat across from her.
"Why was there so much in the Prince vault?" he asked, flicking his first Gobstone. It missed and rattled pitifully.
"That can't all be from Uncle Sharlen…"
Eileen's countershot struck true. Zayn's stone trembled—then sprayed him with a foul-smelling liquid.
"Maybe our ancestors were richer than I thought," she said lightly.
"Ugh, what is that smell?" Zayn groaned, wiping at his face.
"Still—after everything… it's kind of surreal. Feels like we suffered for nothing."
Soon, he reeked from head to toe.
He raised both hands in defeat.
"That's enough for today. You win."
After washing off and changing, Zayn returned to the sitting room with a sudden thought.
"Mum, you don't have to stay here anymore. Why not move? Cornwall. Ottery St. Catchpole. Upper Flagley. Anywhere with a magical community."
Eileen paused, considering. "Maybe… I'll start looking for land or a cottage soon."
"Good. Just owl me the new address when you find it."
Then, with no further warning, Zayn bolted for the door.
"Where are you going?"
"To buy you an owl!" he called back.
"But how are you getting there—?"
"Knight Bus!"