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chapter twenty-one; the cup and the cellar
The magic on the door was on the verge of being overwhelming but never quite crossed that line, which was why Amaya could take hold of it.
She felt it, the wards around the vault, the alarms that would go off if she did the tiniest bit wrong, she felt the coldness of the strict magic, the greed to want to keep every treasure inside the vault. She also felt the Horcrux, this one as filthy as the other, chills crawled up her spine and Amaya took a deep breath, not able to wrap her mind around how someone could perform such a heinous act of magic.
Amaya shakily breathed out, trying to focus on the vault's door and its magic when all she could feel was the eerie feeling of the Horcrux trying to corrupt her soul, the temperature dropping around her.
One would think she would've grown accustomed to the feeling, and perhaps she did, but only to the diadem. The Horcruxes were different parts of the soul, it was reasonable they'd be different. This one didn't make her want to throw up or even faint, though she was nauseous. This one just made her feel cold, freezing even, it made her want to set herself on fire to warm up.
James' fingers slipped into hers, and he squeezed her hand, his magic overwhelming her instantly as he projected it towards her. And unlike the Horcrux, his magic was warm and familiar, and so comforting Amaya felt at home with him.
Her eyes opened and she looked up at him, her lips twitching into a small smile, the only one she could muster with such an overwhelming sense of magic throughout her. James winked at her.
"You can do this, Amaya," he whispered lowly and the chill that ran down her spine this time was welcome.
She nodded, closing her eyes again, and focused on the vault's door, ignoring the Horcrux trying to reach out to her and instead letting James' magic overwhelm it.
First, she found the ward that would trigger the alarms, a thin layer of magic stacked upon the vault's ancient one, but no matter how fickle or recent, it was efficient, and if Amaya didn't deal with it just a slight change to the original magic would ruin the entire operation.
Once she was sure she faded the magic away, Amaya focused on opening the lock of the vault. It took her a few minutes, searching for the layers in the magic, trying to hold on to the right kinds just like her father told her, and making sure she could jam her magic in the midst of it as a key.
"It's just like a muggle lockpick, Amaya," her father would say, "You must be gentle with the lock, find the pattern and mold your magic to fit it."
As soon as Amaya found the door's pattern, she let her magic through, modifying it and changing it however she needed so the door and her makeshift key could work together. She held her breath as she put the last piece of the puzzle in the right place and sagged in relief against James when the door to the vault rumbled.
