Silent Preparations
William Arthur Weasley, better known as Bill, is the eldest son of Arthur and Molly Weasley, as well as the older brother of six siblings. His job, which he is quite proud of, is that of a curse breaker for Gringotts. He usually carries out that work in the pyramids of Egypt, something he truly loves, since it makes him feel like an expert explorer.
Or at least, it should.
But right now, he is basically stuck at a desk inside a small office, while goblins bring him cursed objects for him to investigate and classify. He has been like this for at least two months, something that is genuinely frustrating him to no end.
"Fuuu…" Bill sighed as he stared at the new object in front of him. It was a truly ancient pearl necklace that, apparently, brutally murdered anyone who put it on, or even anyone who merely touched it, as it would end in a vicious curse.
"I feel like I was tricked," he said in a deeply exhausted tone, looking as if he were operating on pure autopilot.
For weeks now, all he had done was break curses on really stupid and completely unexciting objects. Some were strange enough to demand effort, with unfamiliar runes that took time to neutralize, but even then, the work remained exhausting and dull.
He would much rather be out investigating pyramids with his coworkers, instead of being locked inside a space barely larger than his childhood bedroom.
While Bill carefully moved the necklace with tools resembling tongs so he would not have to touch it directly, several magnifying lenses on the table seemed to study every detail from different angles. He walked between them cautiously when, all of a sudden, the office door opened.
"If it's another object, leave it in the corner. I'm already done with this one," Bill said without even looking back, fully focused on his work.
The person who entered did not respond.
That immediately struck Bill as strange, since the goblins usually at least grunted when they dropped off an item. Because of that, he turned around.
Then, his eyes widened in surprise.
Standing there was a goblin clad in full armor from head to toe, covering every part of his body. Normally, security guards wore that kind of armor, but Bill could tell the difference easily. The sheer number of enchantments and the age carried by that armor were unmistakable. Only one person dressed like that and could afford something of that level.
The general manager of the branch. Einjard.
"S sir… I'm sorry, I didn't know it was you," Bill said nervously. After all, the one standing before him was essentially the supreme boss of all Gringotts.
"Mm." Einjard did not even seem bothered and lightly waved a hand, as if it did not matter.
"Weasley, correct?" he said, staring at him from beneath his helmet.
"Ah, yes sir," Bill replied quickly.
"You made quite a bit of money last time. Some would have quit their job on the spot," Einjard commented, making Bill feel a heavy weight settle on him.
After all, that money had practically come from goblin bets. In other words, he had earned money from them.
"Ah… well. I just like my job, sir," Bill said.
"This filthy job?" Einjard replied as he glanced at the necklace on the table, which carried such horrendous curses that it almost seemed to disgust him. He stepped closer and picked it up.
"H hey, sir!" Bill tried to stop him, but Einjard had already grabbed it.
Suddenly, the gauntlet of his armor began to darken. The sound of something shattering echoed through the room, and it was none other than the necklace. Einjard's gauntlet slowly returned to normal.
"Hmph. Trash," he said with contempt, letting the now completely shattered pearl necklace fall to the floor.
Bill normally had to use numerous protective tools and take extreme precautions just to look at that necklace. Now, he could only freeze in shock.
Einjard looked at him.
"Follow me," he said before walking out the door. It was not a question; it was an absolute order.
Bill gave the necklace one last glance before hastily following after his boss.
As they moved through the corridors between the vaults, the goblins walking nearby looked at Einjard with fear and respect, before casting truly envious glances toward Bill, who had no idea what was happening or where they were going. He only knew they were heading toward the deepest vaults, but he did not dare ask anything.
He had never really spoken with his boss before. The only time he had been close was when he met that boy who, coincidentally, was a student of his. Even then, they had not exchanged a single word.
"GRAAAAW."
As soon as they ventured deeper, the dragon's roar could already be heard clearly.
That made Bill feel slightly nervous. He had been near that area before, but not too close, and following Einjard made it feel as if they were getting closer and closer to the dragon.
A blast of fire shot toward them in an instant, making it clear they had reached a point where the dragon's attack could easily reach.
Bill pulled out his wand to defend himself, but there was no need.
"Shut up!" Einjard shouted.
The shout echoed through the walls and vaults, and immediately the dragon snapped its mouth shut, adopting an expression filled with fear as it crouched passively, staring at Einjard.
Einjard let out an annoyed snort before continuing to walk. Bill followed him in awe. The dragon feared that goblin, deeply and unmistakably. Knowing dragons through his brother, he understood that such a thing was unheard of and almost impossible. Dragons were extremely aggressive creatures; even if they felt fear, they would still attack anyone in front of them.
"Walk," Einjard said, stopping briefly when he noticed Bill had lagged behind in shock.
"Ah, yes. Sorry," Bill replied before nearly running to catch up.
Moments later, they arrived in front of a massive door that looked as ancient as Gringotts itself. The security protecting it was even greater than that of any vault in the place. Several guards were stationed on both sides, staring intently at Bill, as if they were ready to leap at his throat and tear him apart if he showed even the slightest thing out of place.
But more than that, what truly caught his attention was the person standing there calmly, as if she had been waiting all this time.
It was that beautiful red haired woman he had seen in the goblin coliseum. The owner of his dreams as of late.
Her beauty hypnotized Bill for a moment once again, but he quickly shook his head to refocus.
"You're really slow. If I had kept waiting, I might have ended up breaking the door to get in," she said, looking at Einjard with an amused smile. Even so, that joking tone did not quite sound like a joke.
After her words, the goblin guards around them, instead of going on alert or taking a protective stance, began to tremble slightly.
"Please, try not to do that. Last time it was far too expensive to repair the protective enchantments," Einjard replied. His voice remained harsh, but there was still a hint of respect and fear as he spoke to her.
"Hmph. You scammed my godson with those trinkets. It's the least you deserved," she said in a slightly annoyed tone, crossing her arms.
"He chose the objects himself from among all the relics," Einjard replied as he approached the door and raised his hand toward it. As he moved his finger, mechanisms could be heard activating inside.
"He even tossed the Holy Grail aside when he saw it, saying it wasn't really pretty enough for his mother," he added.
Mor laughed softly, thinking that it sounded very much like Percy.
"Yes, sometimes even I struggle to understand him. His antics are only surpassed by his sense of protection toward his people," she said as she turned her head.
Her gaze then met Bill's.
The moment her eyes fell on him, Bill froze completely, like a small rat in front of a massive boa.
For a brief instant, his chest felt tight, as if his instincts were screaming to look away and somehow refusing to obey.
"He passed the test. It seems he's somewhat of a seer. Perhaps because of his constant work with all kinds of curses. He can even see the ones they placed on some objects," Einjard said.
Mor looked at him with interest as she nodded.
"Although I don't think that guy cursed the items they traded with you. Even so, it's better to make sure there's no trace left of that place. Those mortals wouldn't be able to endure it," she said, shifting her gaze toward the door, which now stood wide open.
"Even if I don't mind using my contact with him to get you materials, I think it would have been easier for you to do it yourself, wouldn't it?" Einjard commented, looking at her.
"Ah, I don't think so. Last time I got drunk on hydra venom and attacked humans who were aiming at Sally. So if I go back there, my punishment would surely get worse. I'd rather avoid it for now," she replied calmly.
Even so, she sounded like a child who did not want to go back home to avoid being scolded. Something that, from Bill's point of view, was strangely endearing.
"Are you really going to forge swords for mortals again? Last time…"
"I don't care," she interrupted calmly.
"Even if that old bastard claimed my creations as his own, it won't be long before the children find out," she said seriously.
Upon hearing that, Einjard frowned slightly beneath his helmet.
"I see," he replied with equal seriousness.
"Then you'll be looking for new bearers to help you with the cleanup," he added as the three of them entered the vault.
"Oh, I already have them. They spend so much time with the children and are surrounded by so many objects that they don't even realize their sight is improving," she said calmly.
"And you'll trust mortals again?" Einjard asked in a stern tone.
"No. But I trust the mortals they trust," she replied with the same calmness.
Bill, who had been listening carefully, felt his curiosity growing. "Mortals," he wondered as a chill ran down his spine. However, the conversation stopped when the three of them stepped into an enormous vault.
It was filled with gold from one end to the other, neatly arranged in perfect cubes on one side. On the other, there was an immense quantity of objects that looked truly valuable, exuding a great amount of magic. If it were not for the fact that they were all piled together in a massive heap, as if they were trash, anyone would have thought they were priceless treasures.
And in the center of the chamber, as if it were a special place, there were what looked like simple bronze ingots. However, at times, as if an invisible light were turning on above them, they began to glow with a mysterious radiance. If one did not focus properly, they would see nothing more than ordinary, mundane bronze.