CHAPTER 1:

Merde!

If I have to fix these hose once more today, I will-

"Hunter?"

I looked up, alarmed at the sound of my name. In the darkened doorway stood a small, and quite disgruntled goblin. He peered at me through his spectacles and asked again,

"Miss Lucia Hunter? Is that you? I've just recived word from the ministry that you were coming in place of Alfred Hofstad. Is that correct?"

"Yes, yes it is. I'm terribly sorry about the confusion! I only just started" I began to say, but was cut off when the goblin beckoned me into his office and slammed the door.

"As the door says, my name is Uylesses. When you enter Gringotts it would be in your best interest to come directly to my office and write yourself in. Wait here until an associate can come to take you to the Liaison office" this all came out in a rush as he was shoveling pieces of parchment into a briefcase. He turned to go, just before he was out the door "Good Luck."

What? The door had slammed by this point and I sat there staring at the peeling wallpaper, breathing in the air, which smelled like your grandmother, the one you don't talk too. Slumping in the foral chair I once again re-adjusted the panty hose I had been advised to wear today, though I failed to understand why the action would impress anyone. I itched to pull the bottomless flash (which I had received as a Christmas present from a now deceased relative) from my purse, and finally enjoy the day. Bending over to open the sensible black bag I carried, the door slammed open, and a young man finally wandered out.

Cute, I thought. Tall, well built, charming smile; what a panty dropper. The thought brought a pleasant smile to my face as I stood and shouldered my bag.

"Hello" The Ginger said, and extended his hand. "Name's Bill, are you Lucia? I've just been given the brief on the artificat vault my self, sorry to keep you waiting."

"Oh, its quite all right" My smile grew as the Ging- as Bill blushed when our hands touched, " I was held up at the Ministry anyway, they were under the impression I was in need of a translator." It was hard being French.

He laughed, it was deep hearty sound that I enjoyed. Moving aside so I could gopast, he pulled a key from his pocket.

'Ere you go, this is your pass to the vault and onto the tram. Ready to see what we'll be working with?"

I nodded. The walk toward the tram was filled by Bill as he pointed out different offices and the fireplace that I would enter from. I was so excited to get my hands on the wand cores I had been told were found in the Decarse vault. Recently the Ministry of Magic had been made aware of a strange ticking noise emerging from one of Gringott's oldest and subesquently most abandonded vaults. When the goblins went to investigate, the door was blown open and a whole level was quarantined off. Apparantly a vial of Doxie venom had mixed with unflitered Dragon's blood and when left unattended (three hundred years unattended) became an explosive. Because of the accident the Bank and the Ministry were required to investigate the vault itself. The Department of Mystries had been ordered to attend, when several goblins were maimed from tomb traps on a chest of drawers. So here I was, the unluckly dolt who had chosen this particular week to offically transfer to the British Ministry of Magic. As unsavory as the process of stripping the items in the vault of dark magic was, I was drawn in by the objects that were suspected to be within the room.

I grasped Bill's hand as I entered the cart, and immeadiatly regretted the large muggle stillettos I had worn that day. The space was crammped, but I welcomed the feeling of heat as Bill sat down, it was always nice to have some eye candy along for the ride, and after the long lecture I had been given before I left Paris, perhaps a distraction was in order. But as Bill continued to inform me of the progress yet to be made on the vault, a simple annoyance really, I was distracted by the smile I was being given. His eyes were extremely blue, I thought, smiling eyes. I turned away from the jovial man to gaze at the doors flying past the cart. How deep this bank was. Unlike the cheatu in underneath the Notre Dame's that housed the wealth of French wizarding society, Gringotts was downwards. I was forced from my musing when the cart came to sudden stop and I was thrown forward. A pair of strong arms caught me, and laughter rang out in the darkness.

"Weighing about as much as a sack of potatoes generally means that you should use the extra restraint", Bill chuckled out and pulled me out of the cart.

I huffed and dusted of my robes, the black fabric had begun to gather a film of dirt, dulling it down. My fidgiting had turned me from the attractive male, who had begun pulling several boxes out of the cart.

"Well, are you going to help?" he asked "I'd of thought you were in a rush to see the vault, but if not..."

"Merde!" I exclaimed under my breath, were all men in England this brash?

With of flick of his wand, we were on our way through the wandering tunnles, quickly commning upon a daunting sight. One would think that almost three centuries of abandonment would create a more dilapidated appearance, however the door to the Decarse vault was at least twelve feet high and seemed to be made of glossy black stone wreathed in bearly-there white strands. It must have been reconstructed after the explosion. I ventured closer and ran my hands along the door. It felt like, well almost like hair. Hair? From the color and the length, you could guess it to be a woman's hair, but the way it shone. Well it was like-

"Veela Hair?" I asked, horrified I turned back to Bill, "Is this Veela Hair?"

The smile he once wore dropped to a frown. "I guess" he pulled at his collar, looking for the words "being the direct descendants of Morgana really didn't do them any favors in the sanity department."

Looking over to me with a weak smile he inserted the key into lock (which was shaped like the beak of a bird, in case you were wondering). The door swung open and I gasped.