A/N: Written for HSWW (Challenges & Assignments) (with permission of Lexi, Head of Gryffindor)

Assignment #5: Careers Advice: Write about an individual that gets injured on his/her job. (Note. Be creative. Don't choose an Auror to be the one to get injured.)

Word Count: 743

Dig. Dig. Dig deeper. Dig faster. Sniff. Search. Find.

He was clawing through the dirt, shoving aside stones and earth, sand and roots long separated from its owners. The anticipation grew, the thirst to find, to own ever present. Treasure could lay right behind this stone or just beneath this pile of earth and he was going to find it. The glimmer of golden coins or the multi-coloured flecks of light broken by carved stones would catch his eye no matter how small and weak they were.

Searching was his job. Finding was his job. And he was good at it. He just needed to sniff in the right direction, find that little sparkle. Nature had wanted him to hunt for treasures. His hands were made for digging, he was fast and flexible enough to slip through every gap. It was as if he could smell the glittering objects and above all: his heart longed for them. It is easy to do a job if you love doing it.

Sure enough, he found a shining round, slightly rippled thing and pocketed it. It was small though. It was only one piece. It was simply not enough. The upsurge of satisfaction on finding the object diminished and the hunger returned. The hunger to search, to hunt, to find.

He straightened up. Small eyes scanning the surroundings, nose catching the light breeze. He ignored the shadowed figure participating in the treasure hunt with him and directed his eyes slightly to his right. The slowly sinking sun sent a golden ray of light over his shoulder and illuminated a small area of the forest.

There. A reflection, clearly visible behind that big old trunk. He was off. Sprinting over the uneven ground, his feet flying, skipping over stones and fallen branches. The shadowy figure trailing after him but not catching up because it was his, his treasure, his sparkling object.

He could see it now. It was big, sending the sunlight in different directions, a true treasure at which his heart beat faster. He lunged at it to embrace the new piece.

Pain. It shot right through him. He let out a high-pitched scream. Something had dug its claws or teeth inside him, pinning his right side to the ground. He was wriggling around, trying to set himself free but it only hurt more.

"Stupid animal!" The shadow stood over him. "Runs straight into a bear trap and now I have to get it out of there."

The goblin bent down and freed the Niffler of its prison. However, the pain stayed and he blacked out every few seconds, the smell of his own blood overwhelming.

"What happened to that Niffler?"

The new voice dragged him out of the soothing darkness, lights dancing in front of his eyes.

"Not your concern."

"Not my… What do you think you're doing holding an injured creature like this?!"

"Charlie-"

"No, Bill! He's a living, breathing-"

"Calm down, I talk to him. Hello Raknuk, I'm sorry for my brother's outbreak. What happened?"

"Stupid thing got caught in a bear trap. Your brother, eh? He's lucky I don't kick him out of Gringotts."

"Yeah, he's a bit hot tempered when animals are involved. What are you doing with the Niffler now?"

"Nothing. Only brought it with me to check what it has found. After that it's not my problem anymore." The Goblin grabbed into the Niffler's pouch and was met with the sight of a crown cap.

"Should have left it in that bloody trap. Useless creature."

"How about we take it?"

"What do I get in return?"

"Really? He would have let the Niffler die and now he's asking for-"

"Charlie! I'm just back from a Scottish grave. How about 10 percent of my bonus."

"Make that 50."

"Oh, come on now, be realistic. 20 percent but that's as high as I go."

"Deal. Here, take it. You can have its 'treasure' as well."

He was passed to other hands which held him more gently. His bleary vision registered a glimmer. Automatically, he lifted his small arms but it hurt even though it was a feeble movement. Too weak to scream, his throat created a whimper, his heart longing for the shining object.

"Don't you worry. We are going to patch you back together and then there's a nice place waiting for you at Hagrid's. Here you go, hold on to your treasure, little one, you've done a great job."