"Did you find it?" a soft voice hisses at the weary figure limping towards the speaker. There was a hint of excitement to the words as the bounced around the vacant office. After spending so much time searching the key to their plans might finally be in their possession.

A bag clatters to the desk between the two. There is a heavy thud and hands are quickly scrambling to get to what is inside.

"Careful you idiot!"

A glare is exchanged between the two before they quickly start clearing space on the desk, small hands trembled as they reached for the bag. Inside could be the object that would change the fate of the entire world, Magical and Muggle. The wooden box was old and appeared to be fused shut. The warding was seeping off the item and stinging the figure's hands. This was never intended to see the light again.

Years had been spent planning and searching to reach this very moment. They could finally correct the wrongs done to history. "Bring in the curse-breaker. They will either open the box, or we will move on to the next. Our Lord has waited long enough."

"Just remember the deal that we made. Hydra has provided everything it promised. Do what is needed to finish the mission. We do not accept failure."

There was a shuffling noise slowly growing louder as two Hydra agents dragged a limp body into the room. Their uncooperative curse-breaker.

The figure glared at the man and brushed a wisp of hair from their face. The audacity of this Muggle to presume he could give the orders. There were few left loyal to their cause after the disaster at Hogwarts. Those that remained resorted to extreme means to preserve their Lord's plans. That meant collaborating with a muggle organization: goals were similar enough to be of use.

The remaining Death Eaters were biding their time and using the access to the resources to regain their strength and numbers. Hydra currently provided the needed cover. For Muggles, they were moderately impressive with the weapons and resources at their disposal. There was a thought to retain some of the technology. Could it really be credited to Muggles if all the power originated from mythical sources?

Once their objectives were successful, they would be secure enough to throw aside this Hydra. Let them have their dreams of controlling the world. Their delusion even extended to ruling over wizardkind. Pathetic. No Muggle would be a wizard's master.

Pulling a wand, a quick enervate hit the slumped form. The curse-breakers head shot up, and fear bled into his eyes. It was commendable that he still tried to struggle while the two guards held him.

"Welcome, sir." The soft tone meant to ease the frightened man had little success as it was laced with a coldness."Thank you for joining us." The box slid slowly across the desk surface. "We need what is inside. You will help us unlock it, or you will be replaced. This shall be your workspace until you are complete. Should you require any tools, please notify your hosts. They will be here to keep you company and provide the needed comforts." The man landed hard on his needs as he was suddenly released.

The confused and frightened man watched as his abductors and the smaller form turn and leave, the door slamming behind him. Wearily he approached the object they left with him. Everything in him wanted to run. There could be nothing good inside.

**************************

Months. There had been no progress in months. The frustration bred a simmering anger throughout the complex. Each curse-breaker that failed was disposed of quickly. The first had been killed by the very item they were working on.

Nowhere had there been a warning that the wards were deadly. At least the pathetic creature had been expendable. Mudbloods were to be used until their purpose was fulfilled. If should they die for the cause they would be little mourned.

Studying the texts in on the desk dark eyes strained to make sense of the information. There had to be a piece missing. The table shook as a fist slammed down on the desk before scattering the books and papers to the floor.

"Temper, temper. It does little good to be so emotional." Cold, brown eyes glared at the imposing figure standing in the doorway. "Failure doesn't become you."

"I suppose you feel you could do better, muggle? By all means, show us how you would open the magically warded box." A small hand gestured to the simple artifact creating all the chaos.

Scoffing, the man marched to the desk. "Brave talk for a failure. We are not in the habit of keeping failures. I'd advise that you begin producing results." He moved his hands across the texts. "I want to have the results you promised. I do not care what you intend with this lord you keep referencing. Hydra expects results. If you cannot deliver you are of no farther use to us."

"How dare you question my progress! This is not a simple matter of breaking a lock."

"I question because you have given us nothing! Hydra scientists were able to take to humans and create two enhanced weapons in the time it has taken you to fail at opening a box. Because of your delay, there is an additional condition for our support." Running a hand over hand over the box, he leveled a glare across the desk. "We have recently had our Asset stolen from us. You will see that it is returned or you will see the last of your organization go down in flames."

The agent raises his hand and signals to the guard outside the door. "To encourage your compliance." A man is dragged, head of the Death Eaters monitoring the curse-breakers, in and tossed to the floor. "This is what we do with failures." The man is thrown to the floor and before any could blink a gun is pressed to the back of his head. The noise is deafening and they watch as the blood creeps across the floor.

Holstering the gun and moving to the door, the agents smirks. "Do not fail Hydra. We will not hesitate to do the same to the rest of your small collection of freaks. I'd advice you clean this mess up before the smell becomes unbearable."

Staying composed until Hydra leaves, the texts are swept to the floor, breaking the glass on the table. A hand slams down regardless of the shards. With fingers bleeding the hand reaches for the box.

Dropping to their knees all those in the room watch the box glow with a red haze as it seems to draw the blood from the wounds. It felt like it was pulling the very life force from the room. Just as it felt like it wouldn't end until there was nothing left living the sound of a lock disengaging rang through the room.

Panting the figured braced against the desk and stood slowly back up. All this trouble for a damn pocket watch. Their second in command dead on the floor for a pocket watch. If the lore was to be trusted this device would rewrite the course of history.

"Kill the curse-breaker. We have no farther need for him. Leave no evidence that we were here. Tonight we leave for New York and begin our mission."