Disclaimer: I do not own the fictional world created by J.K. Rowling, just original characters and the plot.

Summary: Connie Adlam may be an underhanded cheat, expert theif or a famed adventurer. She may be too devious, quite a bit unbalanced and have very poor moral fibre... But she is NOT a librarian. And she is NOT a babysitter. Legacy and Harry Potter's offspring be damned.

Rating: M, just precautionary. Mostly due to coarse language.

Prologue: Snatching Gone Haywire

„OW!"

A resonant yell echoed of the ancient stone walls.

„Where in the blimey hell are we? This is all your fault! If you hadn't poked the bird –"

„If I hadn't poked the bird we'd be stuck in it's feces for the rest of the week instead of here..." A short blonde girl angrily exclaimed, her thin braids flailing around her head wildly as she observed her surroundings.

„And wherever that may be, atleast it's breezy enough so we can start airing out the reek. Oh, and, could you please move further back? You smell so much worse."

The short girl's companion, a tall brunette, glared at her - a feat barely noticeable in the dark room.

„Oh! Let's just forget why I smell so much worse! Why I had to dive headfirst into a six-feet tall load of bird-dung!"

„Maybe because you're a power-hungry egomaniac who just had to have the locket?!"

„Oh bugger off now! You were all for it when you heard the power can be shared! I'm talking about you dropping it in the middle of the plain! Honestly, it was the single thing you had to worry about--"

„Other then, oh I don't know, just my frigging life?!"

„Please, before that bird came, you were hardly in any danger—"

„You call being chased by three pissed off Erumpents hardly any danger?!"

„You could have handled that. Unlike that blasted bird which I saved you from, you ungrateful bint!"

„Is that what you think? Well just so you know, I would've handled that just fine! As a matter of fact, better than you did."

„Fine! I'll remember that the next time you're in mortal danger."

„Oh save me the melodramatics. That birdie was jus' playin'."

The brunette snorted.

„Yeah. Roast-That-White-Human-Meat's one of her favourites, I could tell."

„That scorch was an accident, she can't help having flaming feathers."

„Like you can't help having half a brain."

„Bitch."

„Moron."

„Cun— Did you hear that?" The blonde tensed suddenly and squinted in the dark, looking over the brunette's shoulder.

„Oh what do you think you're playing at—mphm!"

Just as she dismissively rolled her eyes, her companion silenced her with a firm hand over her mouth. „There's something in here," was her quiesced angry response to the brunette's indignant mumbling. And true to word, the brunette's eyes suddenly widened as she too heard shuffling behind her. Seeing she now gained the brunette's attention, the blonde let her go and they both silently moved towards the noise.

„Damien, I'm not so sure about this," Dorea Selwyn said, pacing nervously around the ornate table in the dimly lit room, „the girls are expecting me, they won't trust your guys. Besides, I imagine Connie's reaction won't be too beneficial to the cause..."

Having said that, the young woman carefully scrutinized her interlocutor's reaction to the words. He seemed to have noticed and frowned.

„This is too important for our personal shenanigans to get in the way and I trust she's wise enough to see it."

Dorea felt her anger rising at his dismissive words towards their relationship. She would've stepped up in her friend's defence, if she wasn't suddenly struck with another thought.

„But wait, it's just an ancient small-scale, right? That's what they signed up for."

„There, you precisely illustrated the problem here on your own, I'm so proud to be affiliating with such capable individuals."

His biting reply confirmed her suspicion and Dorea's eyes widened in almost-crazed excitement. Damien Nott rolled his eyes in frustration at the young woman before him. Widely known to have little patience for any form of pettiness, it would most likely outrage the general public's knowledge to see him consorting with a rebellious teenage girl who is rumoured to (according to Daily Prophet) be travelling the world with pirates, or (according to The Quibbler) is one of the most skilled Mage-art Snatchers in the world. Although to be fair, among the things about the 27-year-old Damien Nott that could appal the general public, this is quite trivial.

„You can stop the self-satisfied inner monologue, Dorea, nothing good is coming out of this. If my team doesn't leave in an hour, they 're as good as dead."

She expected him to roll his eyes again, to show her he is saying this merely out of frustration, but when she looked at his stern face and saw genuine worry etched across it, she mumbled nervously, „I lost them when they reached Algeria."

From time to time – though not nearly as often as she should - Constance Adlam questioned her sanity and moral fibre. Because the situation she currently found herself in is obviously Karma making her pay her dues.

Constance always knew she was special. How could she not when everyone around her told her that as often as they could, hoping she will one day use those gifts of nature she had been rewarded with to do extraordinary things – some, like her teachers or her grandmother, hoped those things would be beneficial to the mankind, some, like her parents, hoped she would raise the Adlam name to the top of the social pyramid and get a page or two in Wizarding History. She was a golden child in every aspect – born into a wealthy and prestigious family, showing inordinate magical powers since she was five, she was nurtured for greatness.

And now she is twenty-four, without her wand, covered in bird-faeces, tied from head to toe to a wobbly-looking ancient stone column in the middle of nowhere in Algeria, with seven extremely angry mummies around her demanding she gives them back an ancient locket of great power she stole and her coleague – currently passed out on the floor at her feet – lost.

„Look, guys, I told you, we thought it was a small-scale... That is, a locket typical to it's day and age – containing small, but very specific power used mostly by kings and pharaohs to intimidate the muggle portion of their dominion. Even more specifically, we thought this one was used by a pharaoh's wife to wreak vengeance on her former lovers – we didn't think you'd miss it, really..."

„Fool! Where it? Give it!" Exclaimed the only mummy that spoke to her, probably the only one that spoke English. Connie cringed as she surveyed the burnt bandages and the scorched-off arm - too bad that had to be the one she managed to reach with her flame-thrower.

„We...don't...have...it... Get it?"

„Yes! We get it! You give it, we get it! Give it!"

„No! We can't give it, we don't have it!" The mummy slapped her.

„Yes! Give it!"

„You just slapped me, you fucking mummy!! ME. NO. GIVE. IT. F-U-C-K-O-F-F! Go write that on your effing sarcophagus!"

If mummies had distinguishable facial expressions, Connie guessed this one would be putting it's game face on. „Good. You die."

„Over here! Found a wand!"

Dario Horvat turned towards the cry of his colleague, to see a young man – Matt, was it? – waving him over, pointing to a wand half-buried in the desert sand. He thought the bloke's field of work might've been paperwork, because he looked as if he was going to stain his pants any time now. Though, Dario mused it wouldn't be too hard to feel out of place here in the middle of the foreign desert with all these intimidating, expertly trained soldiers around him, pushing him out of their way whenever they think they might've sniffed out some blood. And boy was there blood.

There was an on-off bloody trail leading from sand ruins of the ksar to the dry plateau seven kilometers away. It might've been enough to make a 20-something paper-boy nauseous, but Horvat was a 50-something veteran and far too experienced with chasing Constance Adlam across the globe.

He patted the boy's back and dismissed him. He inspected the newfound wand and sighed.

„Hers, then?"

One of the Lambert commanders, the two brothers serving the unofficial troop, asked him. He never knew which was Michael and which one was Tripp. They were both over two meters tall, shaven bald and had thunderous voices.

„Yes, I'm afraid."

„But... what chance does she have without it?"

„Decent, actually. If Damien's assumptions are correct and no one is after her yet. But we better hurry. South-east, you said?"

„Yes, my boy Tyrell here," he gestured towards the paper-boy,"has the numbers. We picked up on the injured bird whose blood was on the ruins. Two Erumpets were found stunned pretty hard few kilometers north, one might not make it so I sent a few fellas to clean it up, but we found tracks of another and that one's still M.I.A., sir. You want us to keep looking? They've been known to hold a grudge, so if the girls injured it..."

„Don't worry about Erumpets. Something else drove them so far out of Egypt... Perhaps the bird? It's nothing we know of, is it?"

„There are reports of a gigantic bird whose feathers ignite when she senses someone possesing a valuable object, she sniffs out one's fear of losing the object and greed to have it, so to speak, and then tries to steal it. No one lived to confirm the story, though."

Dario frowed. That sounded awfully inconvenient. Connie went to Africa to steal some kind of a locket for personal purposes and if that bird truly exists, there was no way it could've missed her. When Connie wants something, there is nothing that can get in her way.

„Mala hulja. Postajem prestar za ove stvari," he sighed, muttering to his beard in his mother tongue.

A soldier was waving them over hundred meters away.

„Seems they found something. Lead the way, Commander."

„What were you thinking, leaving like that?!"

„Leaving like what?! I don't answer to you!"

„You answer to Damien, you work for him!"

„Oh, I'm sorry, has it escaped your memo? We parted ways. Religious differences, you see. He thought he was God, I didn't."

Nelle woke up with a groan. She thought her head was bobbing up and down and she confusedly tried to stop it with her hands. The light was for some reason glaring at her ferociously, and Connie and Horvat's screaming match was making it hard for her to reason things out.

„Would you two kindly stuff your pie-holes?"

They stopped their quarelling and crossed the room to her bed and helped her sit up straight.

„How long have I been out?"

„Not too long. Couple of hours. You missed Mr. Nott's Wondrous Team of Wonder crashing in on our party. The mummies – you remember the mummies, right? –" Connie asked her suspiciously.

„Kinda hard to forget, such charming gentlemen," she gestured to her bandaged forehead.

„Yeah, well, Nott's morons over there set them on fire."

Nelle groaned.

„Connie, don't you think you could be a bit grateful. They saved our lives."

„They did not! We would've—"

„They saved our arses."

„Whatever, I wanted those mummies alive and hostage! And some friends you two are, taking the ex's side!"

„He's not even here! Oh, just bloody get over him!"

„I am so over him."

„Over whom?"

A cold deep voice behind her sent a chill up Connie's spine. She turned and faced her opposition coolly.

„Nott. You bastard."

„You're welcome."

„All right, kids, let's all take a five, shall we?"

Dario interrupted them and sat down tiredly.

„Ja sam stvarno prestar za ovo."

Connie understood him and sat down with him, her arm around the man's back.

„Nemoj se ni šalit. Pa da me ostaviš s ovim balavcima ovdje," she smiled kindly at the man that was her father in so many ways. Damien watched their interaction with a soft expression on his face. He might sometimes hate Connie Adlam, but he knew they would always share their love for Dario. They both saw a father in him, father he never had, and Connie left. His face darkened as he remembered what he came here for.

„Connie, the other room, if you please."

She frowned but obliged him. It was always a bit of a russian roulet, to oblige him in these requests. She weighted her options – he will either start a verbal fight, or a physical one, or a duel, or he could try to snog her or—

„Sonya died."

No. No was the only thing racing through her brain. Not her sweet, kind, strong grandmother.

„She went peacefully, in her sleep. They say her last words included you. You should speak to Charlie about that, he was there."

Not Sonya Yaxley. She was magnificent. So powerful, so kind... She ruled the wizarding world from the shadows. So many people owed her their lives and many will never even know.

„Connie? Are you alright? My deepest regards... She was an amazing woman," he offered uncertainly.

What about her legacy? Her mysterious business... No one knew in full what she did, all Connie knew was how well she was connected and some of the fruits of her labour. She never understood how Sonya worked her magic, but she heard whispers of a great underworld web of secrets whose keeper she was.

And what about her smile. How she would smile in encouragement when no one else would. When she was a child and dirtied up her gown because she climbed the tree to save that injured bird... And her mother yelled at her in front of their guests, and everyone looked on disapprovingly... All except her Nana Sonya, who offered a sly smile and a wink. Unaware, Connie found herself sitting on the hotel bed, held in Damien's arms as tears streamed down her cheeks. She touched her face in surprise. When did she sit down, and when did she start crying? And why is he rocking her? She still resents him. She broke free of his grip and stood up.

„I'm going home."

And with a turn and a crack, she was gone.

A/N: The lines in foreign language are in Croatian. Dario: "That little hooligan. I'm getting too old for this."
Conversation between Dario and Connie:
"I'm really too old for this."
"Don't even joke about it. You think you're gonna leave me with these tykes?"

Thank you for reading! I'd really appreaciate a review! =]