Fern was quite happy with how the day had played out for her. It was a friday, thank the gods, and she had just settled in from another dreary and mundane day at work. She'd immediately shed her work clothes and dauned the comfiest robe she owned, intent of finishing the last of her work, in the comfort of her own home. She sat poised on her couch, her cat Pixie snuggled to her side, as she went through the endless stacks of paperwork haphazardly tossed across her lap.
She'd never imagined during her Hogwarts days, that working in the Magical Artifacts department at The Ministry of Magic, would require so much blasted paperwork. Fern worked for a small sub-department within The Department of Mysteries called the Magical Artifacts Retrieval Department. This, she found, was a right joke. The department was made of solely herself and, in the four years she'd been working there, not a single artifact had ever been stolen. In fact, since its founding in 1998, nothing had even been misplaced.
However, as much as she complained about the humdrum of the job, it didn't require much from her. She simply sat in her office, filed away new artifacts, and set them in their proper locations within the ministries vault. Most of the said artifacts were confiscated items from wizards and witches, sometimes dark, sometimes not. Then, once every six months, she was required to take a detailed inventory of every item she'd ever stored in the vault. As tedious as this was, it was the only real hurdle she faced during the year, so she really couldn't grumble too much about it.
This fateful day had approached this Friday, and with a grim look of determination, she'd steadfast to the task of checking boxes off a very, very long scroll. Right now, her hand ached from the torture it had gone through today, and she wondered idly if she'd be able to even hold a quill next week. After spending most of the day in the dark and mazed vault, she actually managed to complete the task in a short eighteen hour time frame. Now, after she finished this small mound of paperwork, she'd be free to have a decently carefree weekend.
Well, that was, until an unannounced interdepartmental memo burst through her fireplace, looking quite frazzled too.
The shock of it flying in caused her to spill the inventory papers onto the floor and her cat to give her a very quick and painful hiss and bite. She cursed, holding her finger to her body in alarm, her eyes meeting the memo in silent annoyance. It didn't wait for her to compose herself, and simply opened, talking at her in a frenzy of words. As if it couldn't wait to get the information out and done with.
"Dear members of the Ministry of Magic,
We regret to inform you, at this dreadful hour, that we've had a breach in security. At exactly 10:03pm tonight, the Magical Artifact's vault was infiltrated, and a magical relic was stolen. However, there is no need for alarm. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement has managed to secure the scene and no one was seriously hurt in the breach. We expect any departments affected directly by this breach to come to The Ministry of Magic tomorrow at 9am ,promptly, to be subjected to questioning.
Thank you for your time and cooperation,
M.o.M "
As Fern watched the note shred itself she felt her mouth go dry and her hands begin to shake.
"So much for a quiet weekend…"
The next day, Fern was required like everyone else in her department, to come in for questioning. It had taken every ounce of her the night before to get any sleep, as she could hear the voice of the memo being replayed in her head, over and over.
Magical Artifacts vault. Her vault.
She shuddered as she approached the steps, just thinking of it. She had some cause for worry. Fern hadn't exactly walked the straight and narrow during her lifetime in the wizarding community. Well, at least, her family hadn't. Fern Fawley had been sorted into Slytherin in 1991, along with Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, and Theodore Nott. All of these people were confirmed to have had extremely close ties to both the Death Eaters and even to Voldemort himself. Of course, Fern had never been particularly close with any of them. Well, any of them besides Theodore Nott.
Not only this, but her own family had been subjected to questioning in 1981, after Voldemort had been thought to be defeated for good by an infant Harry Potter. Her parents had testified that they were under the imperius curse when they gave aid to the death eaters, of which Fern never knew if it was the truth or a lie, and exonerated shortly thereafter.
As she approached the doors and submitted herself and her belongings for a (very thorough) check, she felt the bubbles of anxiety begin to rise in the pit of her stomach. Surely, after all these years working for the ministry diligently, they wouldn't suspect her, right?
She got her answer not twenty minutes later, as she sat at her desk, directly across from none other than Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.
She'd come to her office in a frenzy, realizing her office had been ransacked, and gave a short clipped cry of alarm. Her desk had been nearly emptied, papers littered on the floor here and there, and her drawers to her filing cabinet had been done in much of the same way. She groaned outwardly as she looked at the carnage. It would take her weeks, no months, to sort back through this mess. Just as that thought crossed her, she'd heard someone gingerly give her open doorway a knock.
"Oh-um, come in."
She called, whipping around, only to come face to face with Harry bloody potter.
"Oh, merlin's beard, it's Harry Potter…"
She let out, turning red immediately in horror, as she realized she'd said it out loud.
"Um, right, yes that's me. And you're Fern Fawley, correct?"
"That's correct. I'm Fern Fawley, the head of The Department of Magical Artifacts Retrieval."
The only person in the bloody department, I should add. She thought, feeling incredibly idiotic just hearing herself say her shoddy department title. She quickly sat down at her otherwise destroyed desk, somewhat ungracefully.
"Oh, well, we just need to question you a bit on what exactly it is you did last night."
"We?"
She asked back, incredulously, before she noticed a very annoyed Ron Weasley standing to Harry's left.
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry, how rude of me. You must be Ron Weasley, it's a pleasure."
She offered her hand, but Ron just stared at it, his freckled ears had a tinge of red to the top. She realized he looked quite put off and she awkwardly dropped her hand, giving a very shaky laugh. It wasn't everyday actual heroes stepped into her office. Or anyone at all. She thought, sadly.
"Well, please sit, I'm sorry for the mess. It seems I was plundered, though I doubt anyone found anything good here."
She said, attempting to recover with a joke, but was met by blank faces.
"We're sorry about that. We'll have them come back in and rearrange it, if you like."
Harry offered kindly as he closed the door and sat down in front of her. And it was then that Fern realized that this wasn't simply a questioning, but a full on interrogation.
"So, yes, you were wondering to my whereabouts during the break in then, correct?"
"Yes, that would be nice of you to provide."
Harry said. Ron took the seat to his left and grumbled into it, still looking quite vexed, but she couldn't fathom why.
"Of course, anything to help. Well, I had to do inventory that day. As you know, my department is required to file away any artifacts taken by The Ministry. However, once every six months, we're required to double-check what we have in our vault. So, I spent about 18 hours on Friday going through and making sure everything was accounted for. And, of course, it was."
She finished, but Ron and Harry simply exchanged a look.
"Is it true that your family was questioned in 1981 for supporting Voldemort?"
"Um, well, yes but I'm not sure what that has to do with-"
"Is it also true that you were sorted into Slytherin in 1991, and once close with Theodore Nott, the son of a convicted and subsequently dementor kissed, Death Eater?"
"Yes, and yes Theodore and I were partners in Charm's class, but I don't understand-"
"We find it incredibly suspicious that you, given your history, did your inventory on the exact night of the break-in."
Ron's words had come out in almost one long string of half-shouted accusations and Fern had been completely overwhelmed. Harry, for his part, sat next to him in thinly veiled anxiety.
"Um, I think what Ron means is, it doesn't look that great for you when we look at the facts. We simply want to rule you out, if possible, as a suspect."
Ron huffed before Fern could realize how insulted she should be.
"She's a Slytherin 'Arry, and not just any, she's part of the bloody sacred twenty-eight. Of course it's got to be her."
Fern felt every hair on her body stand on end.
"Excuse me, I beg your pardon! I've worked for The Ministry ceaselessly helping you Auror's file away unwanted dark artifacts for over four years. Why in merlin's name would I suddenly decide to steal something. I don't even know what it is I'm accused of stealing."
She hadn't meant it to, but it came out in a shout, and it caused both Harry and Ron to wince back.
"Blimey, I think she could give Hermione a run for her money."
This was all that graced itself to come out of Ron's mouth and she felt her own ears blazing a dark red.
"Ahem, I'm sorry for this Fern, but we have to look at the facts presented to us. Perhaps you could give us a bit more to go off of?"
Another knock against the door and all three of their heads whipped to see a figure at the door that Fern was immensely relieved to see. There stood Zoe Accrington, a fellow Slytherin, who had been her friend since first year. She'd eventually come to work in the Department of Mysteries directly alongside Hermione Granger. They often had coffee or, depending on the week, a shot of fire whiskey or two after work on Friday's most weeks. Oh, that's it! She thought, but it seemed she was a little late on the uptake.
"Hello, I'm sorry to interrupt, but my name is Zoe Accrdington. I work alongside Hermione Granger in the Department of Mysteries. I wanted to come by and drop this note off to you. You see, Fern couldn't have broke in to the vault, she was with me getting a bit to drink after work until nearly 11pm. I disclosed our intent to do so to Ms. Granger the night of the breach. We've written a sworn affidavit of it."
It was then Fern felt all the color return to her face. The note was passed to Harry who gave it a good read, nodding here and there, before giving Zoe and smile.
"Thank you, , it seems that Fern can be ruled out as a suspect."
Fern let out a silent heave of relief as she mouthed "thank you" to Zoe before she disappeared back to her own questioning. Harry looked delighted, but Ron still looked a bit miffed, like he was disappointed that she hadn't been the culprit. She felt her mouth twitch in irritation. She knew he had a distaste for Slytherin's, but she hadn't known it to be this bad.
"I'm quite glad that you were able to be ruled out. In fact, I've got quite the favor to ask of you."
Harry said to her, folding the paper back into the envelope, and pocketing it. Fern peered back at him in confusion. What could Harry Potter the Auror want from me? She wondered.
"I was, erm, hoping really, you'd work with us, actually."
He said, fumbling over his words. It took a full ten agonizing seconds for Fern to comprehend what he'd said, before she felt like her eyes had bugged out of her skull.
"You want...me...to help you…?"
She asked, in a state of disbelief. She had no idea what she could possibly offer Harry Potter, but she'd be damned to not find out. It wasn't everyday that someone came to her office needing her for something actually important.
"Well, yes. We need someone with your expertise, of sorts, to help us with this case."
Immediately, her face fell flat, her mouth became a hard line, and she felt her fists clench against her A-line skirt and tights underneath the table.
"What exactly are my expertise?"
The words came out more like a hiss and Harry winced a little.
"You know bloody well what he means. You've got experience with the sort of thing we're going after."
Ron answered for him, and Fern chewed her lip to not hex him where he stood, her hands digging into her skin to not reach for her wand.
"Well, erm, what Ron means is-"
"You need someone whose got knowledge of the Dark Arts and the Death Eaters to assist you, since you've either imprisoned or killed nearly all of the rest of them, understood."
She said hallowly.
"Um, no, not exact-"
"Well, you'll be saddened to know that I'm not particularly skilled in the dark arts neither did I have anything to do with the Death Eaters, surprising, I know. Me being Slytherin, and all. What, was Pansy Parkinson not available?"
She bit out, causing Harry to wince, and shoot Ron a very unkind look.
"Erm, no, not at all like that. I apologize if that came off as rude."
Harry glared at Ron, the words coming out tense, as he elbowed him hard in the ribs. Ron sputtered.
"What we meant was, we need someone skilled in magical retrieval. We've also heard that you're quite skilled in the creation and making of magical devices, as well as quite adept in charm use. Are you truly able to use wandless magic?"
Fern felt completely deflated then, offering a small, suspicious response back.
"Well, uh, yes, I am, actually. And I owe all of that to my friend Theodore Nott."
She bit out, shooting Ron a death glare, but he pretended not to notice.
"Er, great! We'd love to have you work with us. Especially since you are the magical artifact retrieval unit and well, we have a magical artifact that wants retrieving."
He attempted a bit of humor, but the room was too tense for it and it fell flat. Fern mulled it over.
"Fine. I suppose it is in my job description. Well, that and it's bloody boring filing away things and doing paperwork everyday."
Harry immediately lit up, standing and offering to shake her hand, of which she allowed.
"Brilliant! I'm very glad you decided to work with us."
Ron stayed seated, a look of resigned doom on his face, and Fern scowled a bit.
"Yes, well, I'd also like to be able to be disclosed what exactly was stolen from my vault. I am allowed to know that, aren't I?"
Harry sat back down, going back to business quickly, nodding vigorously.
"Certainly! Uh, right, just one moment!"
He said, taking his wand out and warding the room with a silencing charm.
"Oh, is it that top secret?"
Fern asked, suddenly much more curious as to what was taken.
"I'm 'fraid so."
Harry said, gravely, a look of dejectedness crossing his face.
"So, out with it then, what did they get their grubby little hands on?"
She said, trying to lighten the mood, but just like Harry's joke it tanked.
"Well, from what we could gather, only one object was taken. During the Second Wizarding War, Hermione had somehow acquired Dumbledore's book of Secrets of the Darkest Arts. It actually came right handy during the days we were looking for the Horcruxes, but it was a dangerous artifact, of course. If anyone with the wrong ideas got hold of it...well, it'd be bad. So, after the war, Hermione gave the book to The Ministry. We figured it'd be a lot safer there than anywhere else. Well, the object that was taken was the sole copy of Secrets of the Darkest Arts."
Fern sucked in a breathe. She was, of course, acutely aware the book existed within her vaults. She'd had to check it off her ruddy list not even twenty four hours ago. It seemed unreal to her that now it could possibly be in the hands of someone dangerous. She waited for him to go on.
"There wasn't just the book, though. Here's where it gets a bit more dodgy. When we did our first investigation of the scene we found this."
Harry pulled a curious looking object out of his pocket, and once fully visible, Fern could see it was a music box.
"...A music box?"
She answered, not sure what she was supposed to gather from that.
"Yes, and not just any music box, a cursed one. Anyone who listens to it will fall into a deep, deep slumber. It's on our list of dangerous and illegal artifacts."
Fern furrowed her brow, her thumb resting against her chin, in thought.
"Curious. So it's obviously a dark wizard or witch, then? Perhaps a former Death Eater?"
She mused. Harry nodded, smiling.
"Yes, we thought so too! Nobody else would be harboring cursed objects, not after the war and seizure by the Ministry."
"Well, do you have any leads on who might've gotten their hands on this?"
Harry nodded, looking a bit uncomfortable as he did, Ron huffed.
"Erm, well, yes, actually. You see, we knew this artifact existed, and even where it existed. However, we were certain that it was in good hands, and it's a family heirloom of sorts and relatively harmless, so we felt no need to confiscate it, at the time."
Fern frowned. Ah, so this is about the Ministry's reputation. If it got out that an illegal item was allowed to be stored by someone by the ministry, things could get very dodgy indeed. She thought.
"So, who is it then, that was allowed to have this heirloom?"
She said, feeling a bit cheekier than she probably should. Harry looked uncomfortable, but Ron just shot her a level look.
"The last known location of this heirloom was Malfoy Manor."