Seven years had passed since the Wizarding World had witnessed the fall of the darkest wizard known to history—Lord Voldemort. Within these seven years, a flurry of marriages and baby carriages frequently went hand-in-hand. Padma Patil herself had been invited to Luna Lovegood's—soon-to-be Luna Scamander, she mentally corrected herself—wedding, probably due to the fact that she hadn't bullied Luna like the rest of their Ravenclaw alumni. But then again, there was a possibility that she invited most of the 'Claws anyway; Luna always had been a kind-hearted girl despite her rather absurd beliefs.

Seven years had passed, and Padma Patil was still as single as ever. While this fact would have daunted other witches, Padma fervently believed that there were better things to do in the post-war vacuum that had resulted from the almost mass chaos that were the first two years after His death. Celebrations had been evident in every street—regardless of Muggle presence. The Ministry had to work overtime simply to make sure that the International Statute of Secrecy was still intact. It was a happy time, Padma would readily admit, but it was also a time marked by grief and slight wariness. They had spent so much of their lives in fear that they were still unsure of their next move. The victory had been rather double-edged; He had been defeated, yes, but the Ministry's corruption was ripped from the veil of deception and apparent for all to see. There was a rush for new blood—people were sacked and hired on the spot. There was an outcry for change throughout the magical community—tolerance was at an all-time high. After all, what better time to give and receive respect than during a war? Blood purists were pushed back to the edges of society with shame as their only companion. Most of the prominent families (read: pure-blood) had been disgraced, only a few such as the Longbottoms and the Potters still retained their full status. Most had been stripped down to the same status they bestowed upon Muggleborns or blood traitors for centuries. They were now social pariahs—a phenomenon they had never experienced in all their centuries of magic and blood and tradition.

Many of Padma's yearmates were given invitations for positions within the Ministry, though many did return to school—if only to complete their N.E.W.T.s like Hermione Granger. Some, however, went straight to work. Padma had gone to the Euro-Glyph School of Extraordinary Languages to further her studies in Ancient Runes and obscure magical languages. She always had a bit of flair when it came to Runes and Charms. Parvati, her enthusiastic and cheerful twin, had grown quieter mostly due to the death of her best friend Lavender Brown. She was still the brightly-colored fashionista Padma remembered from childhood, but there was now an air of maturity that surrounded her younger twin. Parvati was slightly more subdued now but she still always indulged her twin with gossip.

Her twin was currently dating Seamus Finnigan much to the chagrin of their parents who wanted the both of them to settle down and marry already. But they seemed pacified by the continued promise of settling down into their careers before establishing a household. Parvati, to nearly no one's surprise, went straight into fashion and began designing clothing especially dress robes; she even did a bit of an apprenticeship with Madam Malkin before selling her creations by herself. Padma often felt nostalgic whenever she wandered into her sister's flat, snorting at the wizard's dress robes because of the memory of their ill-fated dates to the Yule Ball. She and her sister usually still had a good laugh at the horrendous reminder of a certain Weasley's vintage dress robes.

"Padma!" Despite the call of her name, Padma didn't move an inch from her desk. Her bewitched spectacles showed the intricate curves of the Runes on the page, making them appear as though they were floating before her eyes. Her entire office was filled to the brim with various parchments flying about—sorting themselves into stacks, pinning themselves to walls, and a few in the process of being written on—and a large tome sat in front of her.

Gemma Jones was her colleague, though her specialty had been in Welsh and Romanic Runes rather than the eastern ones Padma preferred. They often had to work together in the Department of Mysteries, using their expertise to decipher even the most weathered and antediluvian of glyphs. Despite Gemma being five years her senior, Padma found her to be the most agreeable friend since she was knowledgeable, respectable, and amiable. The older witch had her hair tied back in a tangled, brown bun and her outfits were always completed with a pair of spectacles—bewitched both for her work and for her poor eyesight.

"Did you get the memo? They've moved the meeting to this afternoon," Gemma asked as she adjusted her glasses, carefully avoiding the numerous papers fluttering around her generous frame. Padma stilled, looking up from her work and glancing around her office—looking for a bright blue color, the department head's stationery. It was difficult to find the note among the numerous fluttering parchments that were flying around her office. Padma bit her lip and the sound of rustling paper became quite clamorous until she finally spied the document between the stacks on her bookshelf.

The paper immediately flew to its mistress's hands, and Padma scanned the flowery script before looking up at her friend.

"It says we're meeting him this Thursday." Padma frowned, obviously confused.

Gemma shook her head. "The department head's been a bit . . . addled because the budget's due in under a fortnight. He's decided that you're to be the one to meet the liaison from Gringotts to investigate the artifact. Apparently, they think it's more Asian in nature."

"Liaison?" Padma muttered as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Unlike her sister who had graduated from braids to a more mature updo, Padma still tightly wove her hair into the familiar design, claiming that it kept her hair out of her face just the way she liked it.

"You know," Gemma fidgeted as a slight pinkish hue appeared on the tips of her ears. "Bill Weasley."

"Gemma!" Padma nearly shouted, "He's happily married with kids!"

Gemma rolled her eyes. "Oh, hush. He's still quite fit for a married man."

Gemma may have been a rather respectable witch but she was prone to crushes; she often complained that her bitter Aunt Gilda had cursed the women in her family and that was the reason why she had never had a steady boyfriend for more than a few months. It was the only thing about her coworker that drove Padma up the wall on occasion.

Padma scowled. "Looks like I'm leaving. And I had promised Parv that we'd go out to lunch too." She waved her wand wordlessly and streams of parchment and books began to flow into her blue leather satchel. She had personally charmed the satchel which had been given to her as a Christmas present from her sister. The leather had been dyed navy-blue - her sister had told her it was a rather popular choice of material for Muggles, though wizards tended to prefer dragonhide—adorned with bronze letters that spelled her name. The color scheme reminded her of more innocent times: her first year at Hogwarts and coincidentally, her first year away from her twin. It was the first time they had ever been apart for more than a few hours. Padma snatched up the cross-body bag before checking over her office, briefly considering whether she should bring another set of books—Runes were different depending on their geographic origin, knowing the original location of the artefact usually did wonders for its translation—and ultimately decided against it. She could always come back to her office, after all.

Using the Floo, Padma soon found herself in Diagon Alley before quickly scrawling out a memo on her ivory stationery. She watched the stationery airplane zoom towards Parvati's shop, informing her twin that she wouldn't be able to keep their lunch date. Padma walked briskly towards the white-columned building and through the bronze doors of Gringotts. After flashing her Ministry badge before slipping it back into a pocket within her robes, she was almost immediately taken to a goblin by the name of Fugnok.

"Greetings, Fugnok. All is well I presume?" Padma smiled after hearing his greeting, she rather liked the wizened old goblin since he reminded her of her grandfather back in India. Both had an old-world charm about them and a similar businesslike, no-nonsense attitude that she could appreciate. She suspected that the goblin liked her as well—not nearly as much as he did Curse-Breaker Bill Weasley—but her general knowledge of Gobbledegook usually made her the preferred Ministry contact even surpassing the buffoons they often sent from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.

The goblin gestured her towards the cart. "The artefact in question was discovered early this morning; the Ministry has declared that it takes precedence." Her stomach did a few flips as the other goblin—Lomrig, she believed was his name—took them on a steep path in the rickety cart. The cart zoomed down kilometers and kilometers of passageways, taking them further and further underground. They arrived before the vault within fifteen minutes; it was quite possibly the longest ride she had ever experienced in Gringotts. Padma was pleased that it took even less time for her to get her bearings. Waiting before the entrance was a red-haired and heavily-scarred man who had a fang adorning one of his ears—the famous Bill Weasley.

"Padma it's good to see you. How are you?" He shook her hand while casting a wolfish smile. They had worked together before—few wizards or witches ever went far in the study of Ancient Runes—and her expertise in the Asiatic languages was almost unmatched. Bill's job involved breaking any curses that could still be lingering on an object, even after centuries of disuse. Reading the Runes on an artefact could often be the deciding factor in saving a Curse-Breaker's life as well as discovering its purpose.

"Busy as usual. How are Victoire and Fleur and Dominique?" She answered; Bill was quite the family man despite his adventurous occupation. She had listened to him gush about his daughters often enough to feel like she knew them personally.

"Oh, Fleur's pregnant—practically glowing. Victoire and Dominique are very excited about being older sisters. They're convinced that they'll find the baby being carried in by fairies in a few months." Padma smiled as she listened but it sent a small ache in her chest as she wondered whether she would ever be the one bragging about her own progeny in the future. Dismissing the snide thought, she focused her attention on Bill again.

"It was found in one of the older vaults, we suspect that it may have been built around the 1300s. It was supposedly brought in from India by some unknowing Muggles until the Ministry discovered and confiscated the item. They've sealed it up ever since." Padma nodded as she had her enchanted quill jot down some notes; the time period could be helpful.

"Do we have any further knowledge on the artefact? What is its purpose?" Padma peered at the large "7" that adorned the huge vault as she further questioned the Curse-Breaker. Squinting in the low light, Padma took the time to admire the fact that this was the furthest underground she had ever been. Blimey, she had no idea that there were still vaults numbered in the single digits.

Bill shrugged. "Haven't got a clue really. None of the records say; the Ministry hasn't always been as meticulous with its findings. The Department of International Magical Cooperation passed a new regulation—they're sending it straight back to India after declaring it safe for transport. Declared a piece of Magical History or something."

"When was it brought into the vault?" Padma continued, trying to gain any little advantage that she could. She hated going into a project blind; sure it was exciting, but exciting and magic often didn't go well together. Her work as an Unspeakable was very dependent on information, but this assignment was much less . . . exclusive than the others. As a translator, she found herself needed widely throughout different areas of the Ministry but this particular case was quite ordinary if she had been loaned merely to package and mail something back.

Bill briefly looked over some parchments. "Says it was brought to London around 1946 or early 1947 by the Muggles. The Ministry didn't get a hold on it until the 1970s. It's been under lock and key ever since."

"I wonder why it took so long to be found," Padma murmured, frowning.

"The Ministry's a bit more fastidious about checking Gringotts records now—anything with the slightest chance of being Dark is being processed and checked thoroughly."

"And they've got you on clean up duty, I see."

Bill gave her a wry grin as Lomrig and Fugnok started to open the massive vault. Padma and Bill both watched as the goblins wove their respective magic until the door seemingly vanished from sight.

After the vault was opened, Padma stared into the dark abyss before taking her wand in hand and muttering Lumos Maxima. Bill stood slightly in front of her, his own wand adorned with light as the goblins followed behind with lanterns. The vault was quickly filled with a warm yellow glow as the light began to push the darkness back. Within the center of the impossibly massive vault was an elaborate black arch adorned with intricate carvings—close to Sanskrit in nature, Padma believed—surrounding the arch was a purple shield, likely put in place to prevent accidental tampering or cursing. In the center of the arch were three gems—gems that she recognized from the stories her mother used to tell her.

"Kali's wrath," Padma murmured as she gazed at the structure.

"You recognize it?" Bill asked, his wand still clutched in his hand as his brow furrowed.

"It's—it's something that I've only heard in fairy tales. I thought my mother was joking when she told my sister and me. I'm not so sure about this arch but those gems, they're legendary." Padma's fingers went to stroke the stone around her own neck. Her mother had just given her a new one a few months ago, replacing the one she had worn during her time at Hogwarts.

She still remembered the identical heart-shaped gold necklaces that her father had given her and Parvati just before getting their Hogwarts's letters. Each had the letter "P" and Padma remembered changing hers blue to match her House colors. On their twenty-fifth birthday, their mother had given them new necklaces. Parvati had been given a Moonstone—to open her heart (in light of Lavender's death and in hopes that she would settle down and given them a few grandchildren)—while Padma's had been a brilliant blue sapphire.

Her mother had jokingly stated that the blue sapphire was the Syamantak Mani—the famed jewel of heaven that had once adorned the necklace of the Sun god, Surya. This, of course, was not true. The real jewel had been a ruby, not a blue sapphire. Muggles had been the one to spread the rumor of the blue sapphire - only because they had been unable to find the real Syamantak Mani. She had been told that the necklace had been passed down her mother's family and given to the eldest daughter.

"Well, you know what they say about fairy tales." Padma gave him a derisive look as Bill chuckled quietly.

"There were four jewels of heaven: the Kaustabha Mani, the Chinta Mani, the Rudra Mani, and the Syamantak Mani. When these four are brought together, it was said it was possible to bring heaven to its knees," Padma droned from memory, trying to rack her brain for more information.

"But I only see three," Bill said as he inspected the arch. True to Bill's words, the only gems visible were a milky-white opal, an orange-yellow imperial topaz, and a cloudy blue moonstone.

Padma shook her head. "There's a slot for the additional jewel, it looks like whoever stole the arch didn't know it was missing something. Lucky for us, it means that the arch is probably useless. The Runes wouldn't be able to function properly without the correct energy source and the inclusion of the right jewels is crucial." She pointed at the empty slot, feeling certain that she was correct. It made more sense now why the Ministry hadn't found the artefact until decades later and was probably deemed worthless enough to give back to India.

Bill nodded as he lifted his wand in the air. "Alright. Stand back, I'm dissolving the barrier. Lomrig and I will go through the standard procedure. According to the vault description, the barrier isn't absorbing curses. It's merely absorbing the residual magical signature and preventing it from corrupting the surrounding vaults. It'll be easier to decipher the Runes without it in the way."

Padma made her way to the doorway with Fugnok following at her side. Fugnok soon resurrected a new barrier to prevent the magical backlash from harming them as Padma watched Bill give the signal. Both wizard and goblin began to cast spells, though the goblin's method was different from anything Padma had ever seen before. The purple barrier began to dissipate slowly and Padma could feel the ripples of residual magic flow through the air.

The magic itself felt ancient—that was to be expected, of course—but Padma wasn't expecting the melancholy that accompanied it. It was almost as though the artefact was crying out; whether it was in pain or grief, Padma was hesitant to find out.

After the barrier was gone and Bill declared it safe enough to get closer, Padma quickly took out some heavy-set volumes as well as her enchanted glasses. Stowing her wand safely away in her satchel, Padma immediately went to work. Loose parchment rustled like tree leaves in the breeze as she began translating and copying the Runes into her notes. Bill, who had some experience in eastern Runes from his work in Egypt, also began to help copy them down for later translation. The goblins merely stood at a distance, watching the pair in silence. Padma had to look over her first line of translation almost three times before realizing what she had in front of her.

The Runes themselves were not complicated, they were simple looking by all accounts but their meaning was something else entirely. It was well known in the Wizarding World that a single Rune could be used for a complex enchantment that couldn't be achieved through hundreds of spoken Charms and wand movements. It was this flexibility that drew Padma to the craft in the first place; there were just so many possibilities to create and her Ravenclaw curiosity was practically swooning at the piece in front of her.

"Any luck?" She heard Bill ask.

"I've definitely seen this before but there's something," Padma began pacing around the expansive room, trying to figure out the problem set before her. "There's just something off about the arch. The magic that's coming off the artefact is well within my expectations for its function but—"

"Your expectations?" Bill quickly interjected, "Hold on. You know what this thing does?"

Padma briefly turned her head towards the Curse-Breaker and nodded. "This Rune, Atman, means soul." Padma then pointed to another Rune that she had her enchanted quill elegantly copy for her. "And this Rune, Kala, has multiple meanings—it could mean time, darkness, fate or even death."

Bill's confused look begged elaboration.

Padma struggled with the wording, hoping to keep it from sounding as absurd as she thought it was. "I think that whoever created this archway was concerned with Soul bonds. This arch is supposed to form a portal of some kind—a portal that would take you to your Soul bond or at least in theory."

Soul bonds were mysterious and powerful things in the magical world. They were similar to blood rituals in that little was known about them. Soul bonds were volatile things. Merging your magic with someone else had the potential for great power—it not only lent immense magical reserves but the focus to wield them properly. Unfortunately, this power did not come easily. It was much more likely that you would never meet your Match - in fact, it was much more likely that your Match was long dead before you even entered the world. To meet one's Match was considered to be very, very fortunate—a true, once-in-a-millennia encounter. It is said that when one meets the other half—your Match, as wizards liked to call it—the Soul mark would appear on your skin only for you and your Match to see. According to some texts, it was this way that wizards were able to confirm that this was indeed a Soul bond and not merely a Blood bond (which were much more artificial and forcibly made).

Soul bonds were much more common in magical creatures that took only one mate—such as goblins—or in some antiquated magical communities (like some villages in her native India and others where the ancient rites were practiced more often). Every creature was given a soul—sometimes this soul wielded magic—and usually this didn't have any untoward effects. People could live their lives quite happily even if they never found the other half of their soul. But should the two halves ever meet only then to be separated—the entire world was at their magical mercy.

Her mother had told her and Parvati stories about Soul bonds. She could remember her sister swooning over how "romantic" the idea but Padma could only shudder. Just because two people were Matched did not necessarily mean that they instantly loved each other, in all senses, it merely meant they were stuck with each other. Padma had cringed at the prospect, finding out that you were stuck with someone you barely knew for all eternity didn't appeal to her one bit. It had frightened her as a little girl and it still frightened her now.

Bill whistled appreciatively; Soul bonds were powerful things, not necessarily Dark but not exactly Light either. They were more Primal or Elemental, something his corner of the Wizarding World had never really experienced before.

"Is it too dangerous to pack up?" He asked, gazing at the archway with a newfound air of caution.

Padma shrugged. "I need more time to translate the rest of these Runes. If I find out exactly what ritual it was used for, it'll probably be better." She turned back to her notes as her brow furrowed. "While I'm pretty sure that the archway is totally useless without that fourth stone, it's the fact that it's still releasing residual magic that's quite concerning."

"It's probably the main reason why the barrier was resurrected, residual magic is usually never a good thing and it's best to keep it contained." Padma nodded in agreement. Artefacts often absorbed the magic that frequently left the bodies of wizards and witches - supercharging them to the point where it could be dangerous. It was especially so in the case of older artefacts which were designed to be sensitive to the slightest drop of magic.

The artefact wasn't overtly dangerous—it wouldn't have survived out in the Muggle world so long if it had been—and the Ministry would have put a priority on it otherwise. Then again, the Ministry hadn't been exactly competent in the last few decades especially if Fudge's performance was considered the norm. Thicknesse, of course, had been sacked and replaced by Kingsley Shacklebolt—a change that led to revolutionize the other departments of the Ministry of Magic. This could possibly explain why they were sending Padma to clean up these "loose" ends rather than keep her focused on her duty as an Unspeakable.

"Is it safe if I inspect a little closer? I've always been a bit . . . hands-on in my research," Padma asked aloud as she marveled over the carvings. They were hand-carved and not done by magic. A strange detail indeed since wizards were notoriously lazy for tasks that did not involve magic.

"It should be fine. This item is labeled as Non-dangerous and I've done more than the usual standard counter-curse just to be sure." Padma smiled in glee as Bill gave his assent. She began to run her fingers along the carvings, marveling at what she was seeing. There was a complex amalgamation of Arithmancy and Ancient Runes that made her head spin. The numbers seemed to be referring to dates—or, at least, that's what she thought—there was another set of calculations specifically to the Time Displacement. Padma's forehead was furrowed in concentration, shifting up onto her toes to inspect the Runes more carefully. She felt an odd burning sensation near the base of her throat. When she glanced downwards all she could see was a bright, piercing light that blinded her eyes.

"Padma!"

The shouts in English and Gobbledegook startled her, shifting her off-balance and causing her to fall forward through the gate of the arch with a light hum registering in her eardrums.

A big thanks to JKR for allowing us to play in her sandbox. To those of you who recognize this chapter, congrats and know that this is an entirely new beast. I may upload the previous iteration with enough persuasion. Please review.