Helga closed her eyes. The late summer sun hit her face, gentle and warm. She sighed contently, enjoying the warmth that tickled her skin. Citizens passed her by, admiring her lustrous robes of yellow satin. "Isn't she the daughter duke's?" A man mumbled to his companion, as Helga caught his eye. The other man nodded slowly, before they continued on their way.

Keeping her eyes closed, Helga tried to reach for her bag. It was filled with many magical instruments, including her wand. Helga's hand disappeared into the folds of her bag, searching for a particular item. A sigh of relief resounded, as she pulled out a leather-bound book, a runic scripture imprinted on the cover. Her fingers undid the clasp and she slowly opened the book.

"Thank Merlin." Helga muttered to herself. It had been near impossible to acquire this book. Dramatic in its virtue, this book contained highly advanced magic. Magic, that even the most experienced wizards and witches like herself had never seen before.

"Constance du Chateau… one of the most powerful and inventive witches so far…"

Helga's voice was thick with respect, as she said the name. Every single witch and wizard in the magical word had heard of Constance du Chateau. The witch who had slain the mighty 'Silver Flame'. This black dragon, that had received her nickname because of her silver flames, had terrorised most of England for over a century. All had feared this mighty creature, not only renowned for her power, but also for her wit. And it had been Constance, who stood against her. It had taken years of practice and research before she was able to find a way to survive the silver fire. But even without her strongest weapon, the 'Silver Flame' was still a formidable enemy. The battle raged for five days, before Constance finally drove her sword through the dragon's throat, killing it instantly.

On the very first page was the spell that had saved Constance's life.

"Protego Flamum."

Helga whispered the words, as if they were the biggest treasure in the world. And to most, this book was the biggest treasure in the world. It contained some of world's most powerful spells and charms. Suddenly, another charm caught her eye. 'Cataracto.'

"Cataracto… Closes locks, clasps and other bindings and leaves them locked until the caster uses the anti-charm, 'Patefacio.'"

Helga browsed the book , looking for other useful spells, when suddenly a dark shadow hovered over her.

"A very interesting piece of literature you have there, milady." A deep man's voice said. Helga's eyes flashed up at the man's face. A short, well-kept, brown beard hid part of his face, but his steel blue eyes beamed into hers. A shiver ran down her back. She didn't trust this man, at all.

"It's part of a private collection." She replied, quickly closing the book. She reached for her bag, wanting to the put the book away, but found that the man had sat next to her, leaving the bag out of her reach.

"Is this what you are looking for?" He handed her the bag. One of her fingers made contact with his hand, as she took the bag. Another shiver ran down her spine. Was this man made out of ice?

"T-t-thank you…"

"What is a woman of your respect doing in these quarters, if I may ask. This is not a likely place to find a lady of your standing."

The man gestured around at dirty, depressing buildings and the murky water of a nearby river. Even in the light of the sun, these quarters had the air of poverty and neglect. Dirty faces behind broken windows had been gazing at Helga for hours, but she had been so occupied with her book, that she hadn't even noticed it.

"I went for a stroll and got tired. Therefore I took my relief here, in an attempt to enjoy some peace and quiet."

She hoped he would get the message. He made her feel uneasy, even though in this area, this man normally would've been least of her problems. But there was something about him, that made her fear him more than these bad quarters.

"Would you please allow me to accompany you? I do not wish a lady as yourself to be alone in this district."

"That's very kind of you, monsieur," Helga said, "but I do not deem that necessary."

"Oh, but I insist." The man's hand closer around her wrist. His hand was cold as a blizzard.

"I beg your pardon, monsieur." Helga said, pulling her wrist free. Her eyes narrowed as she observed the man's clothing. A silk, double-breasted jacket covered a satin, white shirt. Strong muscles bulged underneath the fine fabrics. Helga wondered how it had been possible for her to pull free that easily. This man seemed to be incredibly strong, besides being very wealthy.

Helga grabbed her bag and got up from the stone wall she had been sitting upon. But before she could even think of walking away, the man snapped his fingers and a carriage arrived. Helga turned to face the man, who gestured her to get into the carriage. For a second, she tried to figure out a way to escape, but she saw it was effortless. In front of her was the driver, and from behind, she could feel the steel-eyed man approach.

"Do you need some help getting in, milady?" The carriage driver asked Helga politely. Helga nodded, before she took his hand. She quickly stepped in, bringing her bag to her chest. The steel-eyed man followed her in and sat himself down opposite of her.

"Please allow me to introduce myself," the man said sweetly, "my name is William Fulbright."

"Helga Hufflepuff."

"It's a pleasure meeting you, miss Hufflepuff."

"Trust me, William, the pleasure is all yours."

Her voice was as cold as the touch of his skin had been. With stern eyes, she glared at the man in front of her.

"Let me get straight to the point," Fulbright said. "You, miss Helga Hufflepuff, have something that belongs to me. An object of immeasurable worth, unique in his kind."

Helga unconsciously brought the bag closer to her chest. Her arms wrapped around it protectively. Fulbright's eyes flashed down towards the bag and then back up to her face again.

"I see you have already figured out what I am talking about." He nodded towards the bag. "Please hand it over," he said, as he suddenly pulled out a wand from one of his pockets. Helga stared at the tip of his wand, before she slowly started to unclasp her bag.

"No!" Fulbright snarled. Helga froze instantly, startled by the ferocious, animalistic sound. "Hand me the bag." He commanded her.

Helga's hands trembled, as she slowly handed the bag to Fulbright. His eyes glistened with fulfilment, as he took it from her. He opened Helga's bag and took out the book. His hands ran over the leather cover and the runic scripture. Helga watched him, envious. She had been searching for this book for over five years, and now it seemed she was going to lose it, moments after she acquired it.

"The silver fire and how to defeat it." He muttered.

Helga's eyes flashed to his face in surprise. For a second, she forgot her fear and anger, as her curiosity took over.

"Is that what the scripture says?"

Fulbright nodded at her, his eyes not leaving the book. He undid the clasp, and slowly opened the book. His eyes stuck to the pages, as he went over all of them.

"So, when are you going to give me the book back and let me go, Mr. Fulbright?" She asked politely.

"I'm afraid I can't let you go, nor can I give you back the book. You are coming with me, until I am able to expose of you."

He grinned at her, before he turning back to the book. A faint memory of his grin remained upon his face. Helga's face turned pale, as his words hit her like arrows piercing her skin, leaving her breathless for a moment, as she tried to come up with a plan. She had to escape!

Helga eyed Fulbright's face and noticed his focus was upon the book and not her. She leaned back into her seat, as her hands slowly travelled to her back. She reached for one of her pockets, searching for her wand, until she realized she had put it in her bag.

'Merlin's green goat! What now? Focus, Helga, focus! Get yourself together. Muggles escape from situations like these, so it mustn't be that hard for a experienced witch. If only I was able to get my hands on the book, I'd be able to jump out the carriage and make off through these small alleys.'

Helga looked at her changing surroundings. She had been so busy with Fulbright and the theft of her book, that she hadn't noticed they were moving. Outside were the outlines of the slums of London, lightened up by the orange, afternoon sun. She observed the small alleys, poor, wooden buildings and dirty, unhealthy looking citizens. They had just entered one of the worst districts of 9th century London, the tailor's district.

Fulbright's face was twisted in fascination, as he flipped over the thick, parchment pages. He was too pre-occupied to pay attention to Helga, of which she gladly took advantage.

"Threadneedle Street." Helga muttered under her breathe, as she tried to unravel the destination of the driver. If she wanted to escape, she had to act soon. This district was perfect for escaping, especially because the tailor's district was a maze of small alleys and streets.

'I have five minutes until we reach the centre of the tailor's district. I'm not going to wait and see where I am going to end up if I do nothing, so… I must act in the upcoming five minutes.'

Helga stared out the small carriage windows, trying to think ahead, visualising a map she had once seen of this particular district. She was on Wool Street right now, and the best place to make an escape would be one of the next streets. Either Satin Street or Silk Street. Helga flexed her muscles, trying to prepare for a sprint. She watched Satin Street pass by, counting down from five in her head.

'Five, four, three, two… one…. NOW!'

She cried out the last word, as she got up in a flash. Her intuition took over, shutting down her brain. With a solid punch, she hit Fulbright in the face, as she grabbed her book and bag. She threw open the door, and jumped out the moving carriage. A thug to her dress made her realize she was stuck to the door, but with a ripping sound, a large part of her dress came off, setting her free. Her dress had been transformed into a short skirt in less than a second. She sighed, as she looked at the ruined fabric and ran down Silk Street. She quickly noticed that running was a lot easier now that she had lost part of her dress.

After about fifty feet, she shot a glance over her shoulder, but neither the carriage nor Fulbright were to be seen. She kept on running, as she turned left into one of the side alleys. Once she entered the alley, she slowed her pace, until she came to a final stop. She sucked in a big gulp of oxygen, trying to even her breathing.

"That was a very close call, Helga." She muttered to herself. A cold breeze cooled Helga's heated skin, while the shadows of the dirty buildings shaded her from the sun. Her brain started functioning again, as millions of thought raced through her mind.

'How did they know I had the book? Did they follow me from the moment I got it? Or did someone tell them I had it? Why didn't they chase me?'

Her thoughts were cut short when a shadow came over her. She turned around, but she found herself already surrounded by a dozen men. She reached down her bag, pulling out her wand within the blink of an eye. She whipped her wand with force and at least four of the men fell to the floor, petrified and unable to move.

Helga turned on her heels, running through the newly appeared gap. Hands grasped her torn dress, but she was able to pull free, as she launched more spells over her shoulder.

"Get her!" A familiar voice behind her ordered. She heard the footfalls of multiple men following her, as she ran through the maze of alleys. Her heart pounded in her chest, sweat running down her flushed face.

She could hear the men getting closer, fingers reaching for her dress.

'I'm not going to make it.'

With one last effort, Helga sprinted forward, trying to outrun her pursuers. She turned left at a crossroad of alleys. Seconds later, she wished she had turned right, as she stared at a blind wall. Feet came to a stop behind her. She heard men gasping for air, some groaning.

"Hands us the book, and you'll remain unharmed," the same familiar voice said.

"Deal…" Helga whispered. She reached into her bag, as she slowly turned around. Pulling out the book, she witnessed the total surprise on Fulbright's face. He hadn't expect her to give up this easily. Not that she was going to give up this easily.

Helga stepped forward, the book in one hand, her wand in the other.

"I see you have regained your intellect, Miss Hufflepuff. Now give me the book and you can go freely."

A grin appeared on Fulbright's face, but it quickly disappeared when he watched Helga's wand whip down.

"Stop her! NOW!"

"Cataracto!"

The clasp of the book sealed itself with a loud thud, hiding the counter spell inside its covers. But both the spell as the sound of the clasp had gone unnoticed, for the loud footfalls and cries of angers of multiple men had filled the air.

Helga braced herself for the impact, trying to curse as many as possible, but strong arms overpowered her, making her attempts futile. With one, last effort, she tried to escape the iron bounds of her attackers, but one of the men hit her from behind, knocking her down. Her vision blurred, before completely turning black. Helga was unconscious before she even hit the warm soil.