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Author: Myth & Legend Story: Cursed Rating: Teens Status: WIP Reviews: 26 Words: 215,482
Author’s Notes: As always I want to thank my beta Anka, and my good friends Antonia and Melinda, who help keep me going. I’d also like to thank my reviewers, who never fail to put a smile on my face. Hermione Granger stifled a yawn and rubbed her eyes as she hurried along Diagon Alley. She had just had time to get home and fall into bed before the urgent communication came through from Gringotts. The goblin had informed her in a curt voice that her presence was required immediately. She’d dragged herself out of bed and thrown her clothes on without much thought. Now the cold air only seemed to compound her exhaustion as she approached the white façade of the bank. The first thing she noticed was the Aurors ranged across the breadth of the cobbles. They were combing the ground on their hands and knees, collecting splinters of debris. Tonks was knelt beside the door using tweezers to pull bits of glass from the metal. Her pretty face was scrunched up in concentration and she barely noticed Hermione approach. ‘What happened?’ Hermione asked, pushing a tendril of hair back into the loose ponytail at her nape. ‘Hello to you too, Hermione,’ Tonks replied, grinning to take the bite out of her remark. ‘Someone decided to break into the bank. Or try to, anyway.’ ‘Did they get anything?’ ‘No. Do they ever get anything?’ Tonks asked, her question needing no answer. ‘Here, hold this.’ Hermione held the brown envelope open as Tonks slid the biggest piece of glass inside. ‘They weren’t aiming for the vaults anyway. Ron cornered them in Bill’s office before they got away.’ ‘It’s my office as well,’ Hermione reminded her quietly. ‘I was wondering why Ron wasn’t home.’ Tonks just grinned in reply. ‘Are you two really just room-mates?’ she whispered, her eyes lit with mischief. ‘Tonks,’ Kingsley said from nearby. ‘You can discuss Ron and Hermione’s sleeping arrangements when you’re off duty. We’ve got work to do.’ The pink-haired witch pulled a face at his back before winking at Hermione. ‘Ron’s upstairs. You’d better go and find out what he wants… and tell him to keep his mind on the job.’ Hermione sighed and shook her head in disbelief, although she couldn’t keep a small smile off of her face. When she and Ron had decided to share a flat over a year ago no one believed that they hadn’t taken their friendship to the next level. Initially the comments made her blush, but eventually the embarrassment gave way to amusement and both she and Ron learned to let it go. If they protested no one believed them and if they didn’t the worst that happened was a lot of innuendo and gentle, probing questions from Molly about grandchildren. Besides, being thought of as Ron’s lover wasn’t so bad, even if it wasn’t true. Hermione chuckled to herself and climbed the stairs, noticing the number of sentry spells that were drifting along the corridors, looking for unfamiliar individuals. She had a bad feeling about the fact that her office had been broken in to. Only last night some of Bill’s paperwork had gone missing from Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. This theft was probably related, and that conclusion didn’t bring her any comfort. Who would have thought that a magical cartographer of Gringotts would be a victim of crime? It’s not like she had anything valuable. She reached the correct floor and moved aside as a goblin barrelled along the corridor, muttering foul words under its breath. It barely paused to give her the time of day before continuing on its way. She scowled at its receding back before a low laugh caught her attention. Ron was leaning against the wall nearby, a cardboard cup of coffee in one hand. His hair was sticking up at odd angles as though he had been running his hands through it. ‘I got you coffee.’ He motioned to another cardboard cup on the floor and she picked it up, cradling its warmth in her hands before leaning back next to him. ‘What have I missed?’ she asked, casually looking him up and down. There were no obvious injuries, bruises or bloodstains, so she assumed he hadn’t ended up duelling with the thief. Ron cleared his throat and laid out the facts in an emotionless voice. ‘Someone used a decoy at the front doors of the bank. They waited for the wards to react and then slipped in through the staff entrance. They came straight here as fast as they could, went in your office and then Apparated away when we cornered them. Someone’s been sent to the department of magical transportation for the logs.’ Ron took a sip of his coffee and sighed. Hermione nodded. The Ministry of Magic kept records of every Apparation origin and destination, as well as the identity of the traveller. It wasn’t foolproof, but it was a better system than nothing. ‘Do you think it was the same person who broke in to the twins’ shop?’ ‘Probably.’ Ron looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘White male, dark hair, about six feet tall.’ ‘That description fits most of the population,’ Hermione pointed out. ‘Didn’t the surveillance spells get anything?’ ‘No. Nothing useful anyway.’ Hermione took the lid off of her coffee cup and breathed in the sharp aroma. She had been working almost all day to prepare Bill for his latest expedition, but at least she had been sitting down. Ron had been on duty and on his feet for the past thirty-six hours, apart from a brief nap when the thief had attacked him the night before. ‘You should sleep,’ she said softly, nudging him gently with her elbow. His blue eyes lifted to her face and swept over the shadows under her eyes and the lines of exhaustion that bracketed her mouth. ‘I’m not the only one.’ Hermione shrugged and gulped her cooling coffee. ‘I can sleep when Bill’s left. He needs that information to succeed. If he doesn’t get the Mordasbal...’ ‘If he doesn’t get it the goblins will gripe, threaten to fire him and then remember that he’s the best curse breaker they’ve ever had. He’s only got better since you started helping him.’ He said it with just the right amount of admiration in his voice to make her blush. ‘It’s just research; it’s just an interesting desk job,’ she said dismissively, but she couldn’t keep the pride out of her voice. ‘It keeps you safe,’ Ron said softly, and Hermione looked at him. He was watching her carefully, and the pain on his face made her visibly wince. It was getting easier, slowly, to move on with life, but a turn of sentence or a distant memory would bring their thoughts back to that day, six years ago. Something would always remind them of the young man neither of them had been able to protect. The day that Moody had sat down in the Burrow and told them, as gently as possible, that they had stopped looking for Harry was forever ingrained in her memory. Their lives had changed forever. Ron had thrown himself into the path of danger, determined to protect the peace that Harry had created. She had run away, just like on the day of the battle. She swallowed a lump in her throat and finished her beverage, barely tasting it as she gulped it down. They had stopped searching for Harry and gradually acknowledged that the spell had destroyed him utterly. There was no body, and barely a trace that he had ever existed. The only thing left behind was his glasses, which Ron still kept on his desk as a constant reminder. She just hung on to the guilt. Hermione pursed her lips and moved away from the wall, deliberately pushing the memories and emotions away. ‘What exactly do you need me to do?’ ‘We don’t know what’s missing. Nothing has obviously been stolen, but they must have broken in for something. We’ve already swept for explosives and traps.’ Hermione paled, and she noticed the tense expression on Ron’s face. ‘You think someone might be trying to hurt Bill?’ ‘Or you,’ Ron reminded her. ‘Remember, not everyone was happy that we won the war.’ Hermione didn’t bother to respond to that. She made her way to the office just as Bill arrived and began to ask Ron questions. She paid no attention to the conversation and set foot inside her office. She had been expecting the thief to have ransacked the place. Bill’s desk was a mess of maps and equipment, but it always looked like that. He tended to leave cups of coffee hidden under the paperwork until life had evolved in the dregs. Her desk was as neat as she had left it. Mapping out the globe, both the physical boundaries and the magical ones, tended to lead to a highly organised mind. Besides, she had always been tidy. A witch she didn’t recognise was scanning the area with her wand, but she stopped as soon as Hermione entered. ‘The only thing they touched is this drawer,’ she said softly, and Hermione shut her eyes to hide her irritation. Of course, they would steal one of her files. She knew before she looked that it would be the one on the Mordasbal that was missing. Sure enough there was a gap in the sequential coding she used to catalogue the files. ‘Is it too much to hope that he left fingerprints?’ ‘He wore gloves,’ the witch said apologetically. ‘And he used something to scramble the imaging spells. We can’t get a clear picture of him off of any of the security wards. He knew what he was doing.’ ‘It was spur of the moment, though, an improvised plan.’ ‘What makes you say that, Miss Granger?’ Hermione looked at the woman, wondering how she knew her name. ‘Well, if he had planned it he wouldn’t have been cornered by Aurors. He would have got away without having to rely on Apparating.’ A loud curse from the corridor made her look at Ron. He and Bill were looking at a long roll of parchment and scowling at one entry in particular. ‘Anyone we know?’ she asked lightly as she approached them. ‘It’s totally scrambled,’ Ron growled. ‘Twenty characters of absolute nonsense.’ ‘The location is still intact,’ Bill said, pointing a grubby finger at the destination. ‘Hounslow Heath?’ ‘Heathrow airport. It looks like he knows not to push his luck with Apparation.’ ‘So he’s getting on a plane, but where to?’ Hermione took a deep breath and met Bill’s eyes. ‘The only thing missing is the file on the Mordasbal. Do any of your competitors normally stoop to petty theft?’ Bill shook his head and snorted. ‘It’s probably a hired thief. Private collectors could be interested in it.’ He drummed his fingers against the wall and narrowed his eyes at Hermione. ‘Did they take everything?’ ‘There’s nothing left. Not even the maps.’ Bill swore again. ‘What about copies?’ ‘That was tomorrow morning’s job. Sorry, Bill.’ She bowed her head, hating that double-edged knife of upsetting a colleague and a friend. The oldest Weasley shook his head and patted her shoulder. ‘It’s not your fault, Hermione. The thief’s obviously being paid a fair bit. He’s not shying away from the risks, that’s for sure.’ ‘What will you do?’ she asked as Ron accepted another cup of coffee from a junior Auror. Bill bit his lip and looked from Ron to Hermione. ‘I know what the goblins will order us to do.’ ‘What?’ ‘They’ll order us both to go.’ Ron scowled, and Hermione shook her head fiercely. ‘No, Bill, part of this whole job as that it was office based!’ ‘I don’t think they’ll give you a choice, Hermione. I can’t get it without you, and the goblins want it badly enough to risk a lot on the venture.’ ‘So I’d have to go with you, or lose my job? That’s ridiculous!’ ‘Talk to the goblins. Maybe they won’t be that harsh,’ Ron suggested, although there wasn’t a lot of confidence in his voice. ‘They’re evil little buggers, Ron,’ Bill said softly. ‘They’re hardly the type to be open to negotiation.’ ‘Where is it anyway?’ Ron asked. ‘Hong Kong.’ Hermione shut her eyes for a moment, briefly mesmerised by the thought of such a different and diverse culture. Part of her was desperate to go, but she shied away from the thought of the danger. Curse breaking was not for the weak-hearted, and she knew she didn’t have the courage to face what they might find in an ancient oriental tomb. ‘Get going,’ a bad-tempered voice snapped, interrupting her thoughts. ‘Take the witch and go.’ The goblin gestured to Hermione with a long fingernail. ‘Staffshank…’ Bill protested. ‘No arguments. Go.’ ‘Look, we can’t just -’ ‘We have been tolerant of your behaviour,’ the goblin snapped. ‘We make too many allowances!’ ‘Bill, it’s all right,’ Hermione said softly, trying to stop Bill saying something he would regret. ‘I’ll get my things together. We won’t be away for long, will we?’ ‘A week at most. We’ll be home before Ginny gets back.’ Hermione smiled at the thought of seeing her friend again. She had set off travelling a year ago, and other than brief messages by owl she had been almost entirely out of touch. It would be good to see her again. ‘All right, I’ll go back to the flat and pack.’ ‘I’ll meet you there.’ Ron smiled at her reassuringly and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. ‘See you in a week. Please be careful.’ ‘You too,’ she said softly, putting her hand over his for a moment. ‘Oh, and if you happen to catch the thief, bring him back with you.’ Ron’s grin was infectious, and she shook her head before walking away. Her smile only widened when she heard Ron turn to his brother. ‘Look after her, Bill.’ ‘I swear it. She’ll get back in one piece. I promise.’ Despite her apprehension she was whistling a tune as she left the bank. Tonks waved goodbye and said she’d meet her for a drink when she got back. Hermione smiled and stifled the thought that maybe she wouldn’t make it back at all. She grasped her wand more tightly, and the whistling faded as the fear set in. She couldn’t quite pinpoint what was stirring up the hollow terror in her stomach. It might simply be anxiety of the unknown, but she wasn’t sure. What if something happened to them, and she was killed? She felt a stab of pain at the thought of Ron, left without either of his friends. Losing Harry had almost destroyed him, and both she and Ron were aware that they had kept each other going for the past six years. If one of them was taken away…. She shook her head and refused to finish the thought as she let herself into her building and climbed the stairs towards their flat. She wiggled the key in the lock and put her shoulder to the stiff doorway. She really had to get the landlord to look into that. Crookshanks purred a warm greeting to her and she tickled him behind the ears before grabbing a rucksack. Essentials only, she told herself sternly. They were hardly going to be staying in a hotel. She packed sensible underwear and several t-shirts. She dithered over whether or not to take a book, before leaving her leather-bound copy of Shakespeare behind. There wouldn’t be time to read. Sunscreen was thrown into her bag, followed by some face wipes and deodorant. Someone knocked on the door and Bill’s voice called out, asking where she was. ‘Bedroom,’ she replied and looked up to see a brief look of disappointment cross his face. ‘What?’ ‘So you’re not sleeping with Ron then?’ ‘Bill!’ She laughed before a mischievous grin crossed her lips. ‘How do you know?’ ‘It’s too tidy, and there are no tell-tale boxer shorts on the floor.’ Bill grinned, but it didn’t reach his eyes. ‘Take mosquito spray.’ ‘Anything else?’ Hermione asked as she packed a first aid kit and her toothbrush. ‘Just bring that brain of yours, and get changed.’ He wandered back out into the living room, and she closed the door behind him before putting on some tough cargo pants and layering up vest tops and t-shirts. It was better to be too hot and strip than cold and be caught short of clothing. She slipped her feet into sturdy boots and did the laces up before letting out a soft sigh. It would probably be a week without running water. No baths or showers. No tea or coffee. She took a deep breath and plaited her hair dexterously. She’d just have to live with it. She’d just had to treat herself if, no, when she got back. Finally she grabbed her Swiss army knife and the rough sketches she’d made. There were hardly maps, but they might come in helpful. Bill looked up when she opened the door and grinned at her. ‘Ready to go?’ Hermione pulled a face. ‘I’m probably woefully unprepared, but yes. Come on, let’s get this over with.’ ‘Here, put this on.’ He handed her a wand holster similar to the ones the Aurors used. He’d already strapped his own around his scarred forearm and she felt a sad smile twitch on her lips. ‘What?’ Bill asked, raising an eyebrow. ‘I was just thinking about Fleur.’ She bit her lip, hating to bring up the subject of his dead wife. Bill regarded her with his head on one side. ‘It’s okay, Hermione. It was a long time ago. Besides, we had a good time, and that’s what matters.’ ‘You still miss her, don’t you?’ ‘Do you still miss Harry?’ She flinched and Bill swore softly. ‘Sorry. I didn’t think.’ Hermione shook her head. ‘Don’t worry, but it’s not the same. You married Fleur. Harry was just a platonic friend.’ ‘I know. I’m just trying to say that you never forget them, and never stop missing them. I loved Fleur, and she loved me. At least I got to say goodbye. You and Ron didn’t get that with Harry.’ ‘He would have said goodbye before the fight, if we’d given him the chance. Neither of us would let him say it.’ Bill grabbed her hand and shook her out of her reverie. ‘I tell you what. If you can promise me that you won’t flinch when asking me about Fleur, or when I talk about her, I promise I won’t tell Mum that she’s got a long wait for grandchildren, deal?’ She smiled softly. ‘Deal.’ ‘And seriously, Hermione, how can you and Ron be sleeping in separate beds? I’m very disappointed in you.’ She laughed out loud at that and shook her head as Bill picked up his bags and walked out of the door, teasing her gently with every step. Suddenly helping him out didn’t seem so bad. Besides, perhaps she could use an adventure.
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