Author's Note: Written for…
Triwizard Tournament Competition. Prompt: write about a magical creature
Magical Creatures Competition. Prompt: griffin
Would You Rather… Challenge. Prompt: Stuck in a Gringotts vault with your worst enemy for five hours
Fill the Calendar Challenge. Prompt: Marcel Maynard (OC)
PayDay Game Challenge. Prompt: dynamite
On the Job
Everyone always underestimated Bill's job. For as long as he'd had his mind made up that he was going to work at Gringotts, he'd had people telling him it was a waste of his talents, or wrongly assuming the most challenging thing he'd encounter was a jammed trolley.
No one understood the amount of training he needed to be a curse breaker, or how dangerous his job truly was. In truth, he didn't even understand fully until he got his first big job in Cairo.
Bill had worked for six months in London before he transferred to the Cairo branch of Gringotts. He'd been assured it was the best place for someone of his talents in curse breaking, as Egyptian wizards were much more prone to placing wards on their treasure.
There wasn't any real work to be done for the first week. His boss – an old man named Marcel Maynard – disliked Bill and preferred to fill much of the human positions himself.
Then it came time for the annual vault checks, and it was too much work for Maynard to do alone. Still, he didn't trust Bill enough to let him go into any vaults on his own, which meant the curse breaker was stuck working with his boss for the entire day.
By the time they reached Vault 223, they were both exhausted and sweaty and ready to hex each other at a moment's notice.
"Do a scan," Marcel snapped before they'd even gotten out of the cart, as if they had not gone through the same routine two hundred and twenty-two times before.
Bill muttered a few swears under his breath as he stepped up to the door, waving his wand in every direction, trying to detect wards. Strangely, there were none.
"Are you sure this vault is occupied?" he asked his superior.
"I wouldn't have brought us down here if it wasn't, Weasley."
"Well, there's nothing on it. Must not be anything valuable inside," Bill reasoned, stepping aside to let Marcel unlock the vault.
A putrid smell wafted out the moment the vault was opened, leading Bill to wonder if someone really had become trapped in there, just like he was always warned about. He never thought it was really possible…
Marcel swung the door open and barged in, leaving Bill out in the tunnel to admire the stalactites. An odd screeching sound from inside had the eighteen-year-old running in after his boss.
Bill wasn't sure what he expected – a pile of dead bodies, maybe. His boss impaled on the sword of an ancient statue of armor, hopefully. Certainly not a griffin standing in the middle of the vault, screeching at Marcel as the old wizard tried to produce a shield charm. Behind the creature, Bill could make out a trail of dried blood where its supply of food had once sat, and he wondered how long it had been since its owner had come down to refill it.
"Sir, I think it's time we leave," Bill said nervously, keeping a firm hand on the door to keep it from closing and locking them both inside with the carnivorous creature.
"I'm a … little … busy … Weasley!" Marcel yelled, throwing curses and jinxes at the beast in hopes of subduing it, but everything seemed to bounce right off its feathers.
'If only Charlie was here,' Bill thought suddenly. Charlie had always been better with creatures, but the younger brother was back in Britain, attending his final year of school. Bill was sure he would know exactly how to handle the griffin that wouldn't involve dynamite or locking the vault up for eternity, which were Bill's only thoughts at this point.
The boy watched helplessly as Marcel ran out of options and started trying to lasso the beast before its large beak came down and pecked at the old man's arm.
"Sir, please! Let's get out of here."
The injury must have been just painful enough that Marcel agreed, because he went sprinting from the vault the moment Bill suggested it.
The curse breaker quickly closed the door just as the griffin lunged at the entrance.
"Lock it up, Weasley," Marcel told him, pushing the key into the boy's open hand.
"What're we going to do with it, Sir?" Bill asked as he helped his boss back into the cart.
"The wizard renting this vault clearly doesn't want anyone snooping around in there. I'm inclined to agree with him, under the circumstances." Marcel eyed Bill as he started the cart with his good arm. "And I don't think anyone needs to know of this."
"Right. Whatever you say, Sir."