Here's a bit of advice that might come in handy; never write fanfiction
while under the influence of insane humour. It makes for out-of-nowhere
demented comments.
I'm thinking about doing the chapters about one day each. Every chapter is one day, get it? Hopefully, my chapter will get longer too. To anyone who might be interested; I got the name Fiddler's Fair from another one of Mercedes Lackey's books. I have no life.
****'
Hermione awoke the next morning to the sound of someone singing. Loudly. It wasn't bad singing, as such, but the fact that she had been asleep until it woke her up made her a little put out. Without lifting her head from the bed, she flung her pillow in the direction of the sound, grumbling incoherently to herself. Satisfied that she had done something about it, she pulled the blanket further over her head and went back to sleep.
Yeah right.
She had just shut her eyes again when the blanket was pulled away, and she was met by the cheerful face of Bill Weasley, looking indecently awake and happy. Hermione positively growled, and tried to grab the blanket back again, in vain.
"Good morning, ´Mione!" He practically chirped.
"Oh, shut up, you!" She growled back.
"Don't you like my singing? I'm hurt!" He grinned.
"The only thing wrong with your singing is that it seems to jump at unsuspecting victims at indecently early hours in the morning." She grumbled, but sat up, which enabled her to glare at him.
"´Mione, it's half past nine." He remarked.
"See what I mean?"
"Not a morning person, I take it?" Bill grinned.
"No, you think?" She shot back sarcastically.
"Come on you; we're going to eat breakfast, and then we're going to start working." He said and dragged her out of her bed.
"Bill, you are evil, did you know that?" She complained as she was dragged out the door.
Thankfully, she had fallen asleep with her clothes on, or it would have been severely embarrassing. As it was, it was severely uncomfortable.
"Of course, ´Mione! I thought you knew." He let out an evil laugh, which made him sound insane.
"If I had known you were in need of a straightjacket Bill, I would have brought one." She muttered, still a bit put off about getting dragged out of bed.
****'
It was like this they entered the serving room. Thankfully, the Swan and Dragon was never a very crowded place, even at the best of times, so they were alone with the exception of the barman. Bill placed her at one of the tables and put a bowl of porridge in front of her. She bared her teeth at him, but ate it anyway.
Bill sat down across from her and started on his own bowl. He attacked it with his spoon so viciously that Hermione expected that at any moment it would get up and walk away. She didn't waste much time on that contemplation, since she had a hard time trying to keep from dropping head first in her porridge.
"So, today we will go to the university. We'll check out exactly what we will have to do, and then we will try to find out which type of curse it is. Once we know that, we can start finding a way to break it." He explained after having swallowed the last mouthful
"Slave driver."
"You bet!"
Hermione sighed heavily, and stood up to follow him. Apparently, she wouldn't get a chance to change her clothes even, before setting off to work. Bill was certainly serious about his job, alright.
Out in the street, people turned and stared at her, and she scowled at them as she trailed behind Bill. She knew she looked bad after waking up, what with bed hair and everything, but that was no reason to stare. Then she realized that she was still wearing Muggle clothing. Muggle clothing meaning a shirt that stated ´Insanity runs in my family...It practically gallops!´ and a pair of jeans, said shirt having made Bill laugh quite a bit.
"Next time, Bill, can you please let me change clothes first?" She asked helplessly.
"Whatever for, ´Mione? I see no reason to change, with such a fabulous shirt!"
"You plan these things in the middle of the night, laughing like a maniac, don't you?" She accused.
"Why, certainly!" He replied, winking at her.
He burst out laughing, causing several wizards to stare at him, when she stuck out her tongue at him.
****'
They reached the university a few minutes later, and after Bill showed the librarian the Ministry papers, they were showed to the treasure chest. The librarian threw a few curious glances at Hermione, who scowled at her viciously, a skill she'd learned from six years of classes with Professor Snape.
The treasure chest was not what she had expected. Instead of the elaborately carved chest, the kind from fairytales, it was just a simple box made of old blackened wood, with a bird-like figure carved on the lid.
Bill wasted no time in walking up to it, and crouching down, he inspected it closely. Now, when performing his job, he seemed to slip into an extremely professional mode. Gone were all the jokes and easy grins. There instead of them were a serious expression and a piercing gaze. Hermione found herself wondering if this was what he was like as a Head Boy at Hogwarts.
She crouched down next to him, and without looking away from the chest, he turned his head towards her.
"See, this is a very unusual case. Most cursed and warded treasure chests are the kind you expect to find in a fairytale castle. This definitely doesn't fit that category." He said in a low voice. "I've only ever seen one other treasure chest like this, and that was in a bookshop-cellar in Cairo. It came from Arabia, originally. Come to think of it, it had the exact same design on the lid."
"What was the curse placed on that chest? Maybe it's the same on this one." Hermione asked.
"Good thinking, but I don't think that's the case. It had a very complicated Borealis Curse on it, which is extremely hard to perform. Very few wizards can do it." Bill told her.
"Borealis? Like in Aurora Borealis? The Northern Lights?" She asked, interested.
"Yes, exactly. The curse was invented by a wizard living in Sweden, up close to the North Pole. I've never seen it performed, but Flitwick said that if anyone tried to open something protected by the curse, a light beam, resembling the Northern Lights, would shoot out from the object and cause considerable damage."
"You said that chest had the same design on the lid as this one. Could it be that it was made by the same wizard?"
"Well, could be. And judging from the phoenix on the lid, I'd say he was Arabian." Bill said, gesturing to the carvings.
"That narrows the field a bit. How'd you know he was Arabian?"
"There's a legend over in Arabia involving the Phoenix rising from its ashes. You know the drill. But the wizards over there believe that if they put a likeness of the Phoenix on theirs doors, or in this case, treasure chests, they will be protected from evil forces."
"Hmm. Where does that leave us?"
"Well, we know that the wizard who placed the spell on this was probably Arabian."
"It could be a witch too, you know."
"Could be, but I'm not so sure. Not many witches from over there that has been powerful enough to pull the Borealis Curse off. Besides, if it is the same wizard, I know it can't be a witch. The other chest was well over a hundred years old, and there hasn't been a witch in Arabia in the last two hundred years that has been powerful enough."
"How do you know?"
"It's part of my job. So, we've decided that it was probably an Arabian wizard, from somewhere between a hundred and two-hundred years ago who put the curse on it, and that it was probably the Borealis Curse, even though it's damn complicated. All we have to do now is find out which wizard it was, and how to break the curse."
"But didn't you say you've seen it before?" Hermione asked, puzzled.
Bill stood up again and shrugged. He reached down a hand and pulled her up as well, and dusted off his trousers.
"I have, but I didn't so the breaking. I was just an apprentice, just like you are now, and my teacher wasn't willing to trust me enough to let me do any research on it." He explained.
"But I thought you were his apprentice; shouldn't he let you do research? You were going to be a full Curse Breaker too one day, right?"
"Yeah. I guess he wasn't a very trusting man, that's all, or he didn't think I was capable of handling the Borealis Curse yet." Bill shrugged again. "Now, let's get something to eat; I'm starving." He declared.
"Bill, we ate breakfast not more than an hour ago."
"Exactly what I mean!" He said and walked out the door, forcing her to follow him if she wanted to know any more about the curse.
The information she had received over the last few minutes was a lot more interesting than six years worth of Charms lessons, and she wasn't about to let the chance to learn more slip out of her grasp, just because she was too slow to catch up.
****'
Bill put down his fork again with a satisfied smile on his face. Hermione leaned back in her chair and watched him amusedly. It wasn't every day that you see someone devour a pizza big enough to last a normal family in a matter of minutes. They had left the university and walked down the street, finding a restaurant to eat in, and while Bill had taken a pizza, Hermione had opted for a salad.
"So. How do we find out how to break the curse?"
"Well, the university has a damn good library, but there are a few other places we could go. However, the library is a good place to start this time." Bill said.
"Oh, Bill, you have much to learn I hear; the library is always a good place to start." She mocked.
"I knew you'd say that. Now, let's leave the curses for a moment; pay close attention ´Mione, because this will be one of the few times we will talk about anything else than the curse. What're you planning to specialize on in Seventh year?"
"I don't really know; it depends on what I want to do after Hogwarts. If I choose to go to university, I could choose whichever subject I want to, but right now, Curse Breaking is starting to look appealing, and I don't know what subjects I have to choose to qualify for that job." She confessed.
"You're seriously considering becoming a Curse Breaker? You've got what it takes, alright." Bill said, looking surprised. "As for which subjects you should take, I'm not sure. Well, there's one you have to take, and that's Charms. Other than that, Arithmancy, and no matter how boring it is, History of Magic, are always useful."
She rolled her eyes at the last comment; Professor Binns, the History of Magic teacher, was a ghost, and as interesting to listen to as a dead badger. The most exciting part of the lesson was when he floated in through the black board at the beginning of it.
"Don't roll your eyes at me, young lady!" Bill snapped, causing several mothers to turn their heads to see where the child was, "History of Magic is very useful when dealing with old curses or treasures."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know, but Binns is just so damn boring. Even I fall asleep in his lessons, and that's saying something." She shot back, grinning.
"Oh, little miss teacher's pet falling a sleep in lessons? I never thought I'd see the day." Bill grinned, taking the edge off his words.
"Oh, shut up, you! Let's get back to work, or we'll never be done." She snapped.
*****'
Back in the library, Bill informed the librarian that they needed to look at the books, which said librarian hesitantly agreed to. Thankfully, the university library was organized in the system subject-writer-title, which made them easier to find.
"´Mione, you go find anything you can on powerful Arabian wizards over the last two hundred years. I'll be over here, looking for the Borealis Curse. Alright?" Bill ordered.
"Sure."
"If you haven't found anything in two hours, meet up with me over by that table, and we'll find some other way to get information." He pointed to a table in the middle of the room.
"Yes, sir!" She ripped of a mock-salute before heading towards the History section.
She browsed the shelves, looking for what she'd been asked to, but at the same time seeing what other books the university held. To her disappointment, she reached the end of the History section, without having found one book even remotely connected to Arabian wizards.
She rounded the shelf, and ran straight into a young boy, about her age, dressed in what must be the university uniform. She nearly fell, as did he, but they managed to regain their footing after the initial shock.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't see where I was going, and I really didn't mean to run into you." She apologized.
"That's alright. Hey, I haven't seen you here before, are you new?" The boy asked.
She had a sarcastic remark at the tip of her tongue, which she more than likely would have thrown at him, had it not been for the fact that he wasn't Bill, and wouldn't laugh at such a comment.
"I'm just visiting." She smiled.
"Where from?"
"Oh, England. Say, I'm looking for a book on Arabian wizards, do you know if they have any here?" She asked.
"Wouldn't know; I'm not into Arabian wizards. England, you say? Why are you visiting?"
"I have summer break, and I'm here with a friend." She explained.
She didn't really want to go into detail about why she was there, so she hoped he would accept that explanation.
"A friend, eh? Good-looking?" He asked, immediately interested.
She had to exercise extreme self-control not to gape at him. He was judging someone he'd never met, purely on the basis of how good the person looked. Not even Harry and Ron were that fixated by good looks.
"I never really looked at him, so I wouldn't know." She said, smile getting a bit strained.
That seemed to do the trick; the boy gaped at her, but quickly recovered.
"So, anyway, my name's Robert. What's yours?"
"Hermione." She answered. "You know, I really have to get back to my friend, if you'd excuse me?" She continued, wanting to be out of his company as quickly as possible.
"Oh, I'll walk you there of course." Robert replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Hermione's expression darkened, but she could do nothing to stop him, so she just turned and headed back to the Charm's section, where she knew Bill would be. Robert trailed beside her, chattering about nothing, just like she and Bill had done, but in such a way that it made her annoyed.
Bill had expected her to talk just as much as he did, and he had known she'd contradict him, and sometimes make jokes, but Robert acted as if she was some kind of brainless airhead who couldn't do anything else than gaze adoringly at him, and agree with whatever he said.
They found Bill sitting at a table, nose deep in a heavy book, which on closer inspection turned out to be bound with dragon skin. She walked up to him and plopped down in a chair beside him, and to her great irritation, Robert still didn't leave.
"Hey, Bill, find anything?" She asked, interrupting Robert's tirade in mid- sentence.
"Not really, but I found another possibility. It doesn't have to be Borealis, you know." He said, glancing up from his book. "Find anything yourself?"
"No. It turns out this library has no books whatsoever on Arabian History, powerful wizards or otherwise." She grumbled.
"Ouch, bitter are we?" He grinned at her tone.
"Bill, if this was the library back home, I would have found that book at the most three minutes after I started searching. If I didn't find the one I was looking for, I'd at least have found a book on Arabian history! This library stinks, and you know it."
"Sheesh, every library isn't as good as the one back home, you know." He said.
"I know the book we're looking for; I've seen it before, in that very library back home. I'll write to Madame Pince as soon as I can get hold of an owl, and we'll have it here by the end of the week." Hermione declared.
"Madame Pince would actually let you take books off the grounds, and as far as Italy, at that? What'd you do? Bribe her?" He asked incredulously.
Hermione flashed him a superior grin, and tapped her nose.
"Bill, I've lived in that library for the past six years; I could commit murder there, and get away with it." She said smugly.
"I envy you, she'd never let me take a book outside the library even, on the grounds that I was a Weasley, and was bound to damage it somehow." He sighed. "She went to school with Dad, and he'd said to have been just as bad as Fred and George, if not worse." He added as an explanation, seeing her puzzled look.
"Hello, I'm talking here! It's rude to interrupt, you know!" Robert cut in.
"Oh, shut up, you pompous moron. We stopped listening a long time ago, so we'd appreciate if you stopped talking too." Hermione snapped.
Bill did his best to keep himself from laughing as Robert stared at her, and then spun on his heel and left. Hermione watched him go with a relieved expression on her face.
"I'm glad to be rid of that idiot. Now, we've been in here for quite some time, should we head back, you think?" She asked, turning back to Bill.
"You're probably right; I know a few other libraries we could try, but we'll do that tomorrow." He agreed.
****'
They walked back to the Swan and Dragon, a little annoyed that the university library had proved to be a dead end. The old barman, whose name they had yet to find out, greeted them with a nod when they entered. Bill stopped for a moment, and then seemed to remember something. He walked up to the old man, and held a conversation Hermione couldn't hear, and then came back with a disappointed look on his face.
"I asked about our rooms and if we could change them, but apparently we can't. We'll have to live with those we have." He said apologetically.
"That's alright. It could be worse, eh?" She joked lamely.
The truth was; she was uncomfortable with spending her nights in the same room as Bill. It wasn't that she thought he'd try anything, at was just that she'd never done anything like this in her life, and she had always been uncomfortable when things changed too fast.
"I guess it could. Now, you've got a letter to write, and we still haven't had dinner." He gestured for her to follow and headed up the stairs.
An hour later found them in their rooms. Hermione had finally gotten to change her clothes, after taking a much needed shower, and was now sitting at the small desk between the beds, writing a letter to Madame Pince.
She could hear Bill moving around in the outer room, doing god-knows-what, and put down her quill. Her stomach rumbled; it had been quite long since lunch, after all, and she was very hungry. She was just about to walk out and ask Bill when they'd eat, when said man opened the door.
"Hey, ´Mione, hungry yet?" He asked.
"Yes."
"Good, I've cooked some dinner. Come on, let's eat." He invited.
"You? Cooked dinner?" She asked in disbelief.
"Yeah, you thought I spent my years in the kitchen at the Burrow learning nothing? I know that of the rest of my brothers, only Charlie can make a passable meal, but that doesn't mean I'm a horrible cook." He winked at her.
"Oh, alright then, but if I get poisoned, you're paying for my hospital bills." She warned him.
"Yes, my lady." He joked.
´I wonder if he knows why I'm suspicious to Weasley cooking? After eating Ron's cooking, I'm entitled to be at least a bit suspicious.´ She thought. She walked out in the outer room, and discovered he had set up a table there. On the table were everything one could expect from a meal at the Burrow; pies, potatoes, steak and more vegetables than she could count.
"Bill, I stand corrected; you can cook." She admitted after the first mouthful.
"How could you ever doubt, ´Mione?" He asked, grinning. "By the way, are you finished with the letter yet?"
"Yes, I am. But I left my owl at home, so I can't send it."
"Not to worry, my lady, there is a post office down the street. We'll go there tomorrow." He promised, winking a bit.
They sat up for what seemed like hours, talking about the Borealis Curse, how to break it, and what could be in the treasure chest. When they ran out of things to talk about, they decided it was time to go to bed. They said good night to each other, and with little problem, the managed to go to bed without embarrassing each other. Once again, Hermione was asleep before her head hit the pillow.
*****'
Alright, that was long, for being me, at least. *sigh* Since English is my second language, I sometimes have trouble finding the right words for some things. If any of my sentences seem strange because of that, please don't flame me too bad.
I'm thinking about doing the chapters about one day each. Every chapter is one day, get it? Hopefully, my chapter will get longer too. To anyone who might be interested; I got the name Fiddler's Fair from another one of Mercedes Lackey's books. I have no life.
****'
Hermione awoke the next morning to the sound of someone singing. Loudly. It wasn't bad singing, as such, but the fact that she had been asleep until it woke her up made her a little put out. Without lifting her head from the bed, she flung her pillow in the direction of the sound, grumbling incoherently to herself. Satisfied that she had done something about it, she pulled the blanket further over her head and went back to sleep.
Yeah right.
She had just shut her eyes again when the blanket was pulled away, and she was met by the cheerful face of Bill Weasley, looking indecently awake and happy. Hermione positively growled, and tried to grab the blanket back again, in vain.
"Good morning, ´Mione!" He practically chirped.
"Oh, shut up, you!" She growled back.
"Don't you like my singing? I'm hurt!" He grinned.
"The only thing wrong with your singing is that it seems to jump at unsuspecting victims at indecently early hours in the morning." She grumbled, but sat up, which enabled her to glare at him.
"´Mione, it's half past nine." He remarked.
"See what I mean?"
"Not a morning person, I take it?" Bill grinned.
"No, you think?" She shot back sarcastically.
"Come on you; we're going to eat breakfast, and then we're going to start working." He said and dragged her out of her bed.
"Bill, you are evil, did you know that?" She complained as she was dragged out the door.
Thankfully, she had fallen asleep with her clothes on, or it would have been severely embarrassing. As it was, it was severely uncomfortable.
"Of course, ´Mione! I thought you knew." He let out an evil laugh, which made him sound insane.
"If I had known you were in need of a straightjacket Bill, I would have brought one." She muttered, still a bit put off about getting dragged out of bed.
****'
It was like this they entered the serving room. Thankfully, the Swan and Dragon was never a very crowded place, even at the best of times, so they were alone with the exception of the barman. Bill placed her at one of the tables and put a bowl of porridge in front of her. She bared her teeth at him, but ate it anyway.
Bill sat down across from her and started on his own bowl. He attacked it with his spoon so viciously that Hermione expected that at any moment it would get up and walk away. She didn't waste much time on that contemplation, since she had a hard time trying to keep from dropping head first in her porridge.
"So, today we will go to the university. We'll check out exactly what we will have to do, and then we will try to find out which type of curse it is. Once we know that, we can start finding a way to break it." He explained after having swallowed the last mouthful
"Slave driver."
"You bet!"
Hermione sighed heavily, and stood up to follow him. Apparently, she wouldn't get a chance to change her clothes even, before setting off to work. Bill was certainly serious about his job, alright.
Out in the street, people turned and stared at her, and she scowled at them as she trailed behind Bill. She knew she looked bad after waking up, what with bed hair and everything, but that was no reason to stare. Then she realized that she was still wearing Muggle clothing. Muggle clothing meaning a shirt that stated ´Insanity runs in my family...It practically gallops!´ and a pair of jeans, said shirt having made Bill laugh quite a bit.
"Next time, Bill, can you please let me change clothes first?" She asked helplessly.
"Whatever for, ´Mione? I see no reason to change, with such a fabulous shirt!"
"You plan these things in the middle of the night, laughing like a maniac, don't you?" She accused.
"Why, certainly!" He replied, winking at her.
He burst out laughing, causing several wizards to stare at him, when she stuck out her tongue at him.
****'
They reached the university a few minutes later, and after Bill showed the librarian the Ministry papers, they were showed to the treasure chest. The librarian threw a few curious glances at Hermione, who scowled at her viciously, a skill she'd learned from six years of classes with Professor Snape.
The treasure chest was not what she had expected. Instead of the elaborately carved chest, the kind from fairytales, it was just a simple box made of old blackened wood, with a bird-like figure carved on the lid.
Bill wasted no time in walking up to it, and crouching down, he inspected it closely. Now, when performing his job, he seemed to slip into an extremely professional mode. Gone were all the jokes and easy grins. There instead of them were a serious expression and a piercing gaze. Hermione found herself wondering if this was what he was like as a Head Boy at Hogwarts.
She crouched down next to him, and without looking away from the chest, he turned his head towards her.
"See, this is a very unusual case. Most cursed and warded treasure chests are the kind you expect to find in a fairytale castle. This definitely doesn't fit that category." He said in a low voice. "I've only ever seen one other treasure chest like this, and that was in a bookshop-cellar in Cairo. It came from Arabia, originally. Come to think of it, it had the exact same design on the lid."
"What was the curse placed on that chest? Maybe it's the same on this one." Hermione asked.
"Good thinking, but I don't think that's the case. It had a very complicated Borealis Curse on it, which is extremely hard to perform. Very few wizards can do it." Bill told her.
"Borealis? Like in Aurora Borealis? The Northern Lights?" She asked, interested.
"Yes, exactly. The curse was invented by a wizard living in Sweden, up close to the North Pole. I've never seen it performed, but Flitwick said that if anyone tried to open something protected by the curse, a light beam, resembling the Northern Lights, would shoot out from the object and cause considerable damage."
"You said that chest had the same design on the lid as this one. Could it be that it was made by the same wizard?"
"Well, could be. And judging from the phoenix on the lid, I'd say he was Arabian." Bill said, gesturing to the carvings.
"That narrows the field a bit. How'd you know he was Arabian?"
"There's a legend over in Arabia involving the Phoenix rising from its ashes. You know the drill. But the wizards over there believe that if they put a likeness of the Phoenix on theirs doors, or in this case, treasure chests, they will be protected from evil forces."
"Hmm. Where does that leave us?"
"Well, we know that the wizard who placed the spell on this was probably Arabian."
"It could be a witch too, you know."
"Could be, but I'm not so sure. Not many witches from over there that has been powerful enough to pull the Borealis Curse off. Besides, if it is the same wizard, I know it can't be a witch. The other chest was well over a hundred years old, and there hasn't been a witch in Arabia in the last two hundred years that has been powerful enough."
"How do you know?"
"It's part of my job. So, we've decided that it was probably an Arabian wizard, from somewhere between a hundred and two-hundred years ago who put the curse on it, and that it was probably the Borealis Curse, even though it's damn complicated. All we have to do now is find out which wizard it was, and how to break the curse."
"But didn't you say you've seen it before?" Hermione asked, puzzled.
Bill stood up again and shrugged. He reached down a hand and pulled her up as well, and dusted off his trousers.
"I have, but I didn't so the breaking. I was just an apprentice, just like you are now, and my teacher wasn't willing to trust me enough to let me do any research on it." He explained.
"But I thought you were his apprentice; shouldn't he let you do research? You were going to be a full Curse Breaker too one day, right?"
"Yeah. I guess he wasn't a very trusting man, that's all, or he didn't think I was capable of handling the Borealis Curse yet." Bill shrugged again. "Now, let's get something to eat; I'm starving." He declared.
"Bill, we ate breakfast not more than an hour ago."
"Exactly what I mean!" He said and walked out the door, forcing her to follow him if she wanted to know any more about the curse.
The information she had received over the last few minutes was a lot more interesting than six years worth of Charms lessons, and she wasn't about to let the chance to learn more slip out of her grasp, just because she was too slow to catch up.
****'
Bill put down his fork again with a satisfied smile on his face. Hermione leaned back in her chair and watched him amusedly. It wasn't every day that you see someone devour a pizza big enough to last a normal family in a matter of minutes. They had left the university and walked down the street, finding a restaurant to eat in, and while Bill had taken a pizza, Hermione had opted for a salad.
"So. How do we find out how to break the curse?"
"Well, the university has a damn good library, but there are a few other places we could go. However, the library is a good place to start this time." Bill said.
"Oh, Bill, you have much to learn I hear; the library is always a good place to start." She mocked.
"I knew you'd say that. Now, let's leave the curses for a moment; pay close attention ´Mione, because this will be one of the few times we will talk about anything else than the curse. What're you planning to specialize on in Seventh year?"
"I don't really know; it depends on what I want to do after Hogwarts. If I choose to go to university, I could choose whichever subject I want to, but right now, Curse Breaking is starting to look appealing, and I don't know what subjects I have to choose to qualify for that job." She confessed.
"You're seriously considering becoming a Curse Breaker? You've got what it takes, alright." Bill said, looking surprised. "As for which subjects you should take, I'm not sure. Well, there's one you have to take, and that's Charms. Other than that, Arithmancy, and no matter how boring it is, History of Magic, are always useful."
She rolled her eyes at the last comment; Professor Binns, the History of Magic teacher, was a ghost, and as interesting to listen to as a dead badger. The most exciting part of the lesson was when he floated in through the black board at the beginning of it.
"Don't roll your eyes at me, young lady!" Bill snapped, causing several mothers to turn their heads to see where the child was, "History of Magic is very useful when dealing with old curses or treasures."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know, but Binns is just so damn boring. Even I fall asleep in his lessons, and that's saying something." She shot back, grinning.
"Oh, little miss teacher's pet falling a sleep in lessons? I never thought I'd see the day." Bill grinned, taking the edge off his words.
"Oh, shut up, you! Let's get back to work, or we'll never be done." She snapped.
*****'
Back in the library, Bill informed the librarian that they needed to look at the books, which said librarian hesitantly agreed to. Thankfully, the university library was organized in the system subject-writer-title, which made them easier to find.
"´Mione, you go find anything you can on powerful Arabian wizards over the last two hundred years. I'll be over here, looking for the Borealis Curse. Alright?" Bill ordered.
"Sure."
"If you haven't found anything in two hours, meet up with me over by that table, and we'll find some other way to get information." He pointed to a table in the middle of the room.
"Yes, sir!" She ripped of a mock-salute before heading towards the History section.
She browsed the shelves, looking for what she'd been asked to, but at the same time seeing what other books the university held. To her disappointment, she reached the end of the History section, without having found one book even remotely connected to Arabian wizards.
She rounded the shelf, and ran straight into a young boy, about her age, dressed in what must be the university uniform. She nearly fell, as did he, but they managed to regain their footing after the initial shock.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't see where I was going, and I really didn't mean to run into you." She apologized.
"That's alright. Hey, I haven't seen you here before, are you new?" The boy asked.
She had a sarcastic remark at the tip of her tongue, which she more than likely would have thrown at him, had it not been for the fact that he wasn't Bill, and wouldn't laugh at such a comment.
"I'm just visiting." She smiled.
"Where from?"
"Oh, England. Say, I'm looking for a book on Arabian wizards, do you know if they have any here?" She asked.
"Wouldn't know; I'm not into Arabian wizards. England, you say? Why are you visiting?"
"I have summer break, and I'm here with a friend." She explained.
She didn't really want to go into detail about why she was there, so she hoped he would accept that explanation.
"A friend, eh? Good-looking?" He asked, immediately interested.
She had to exercise extreme self-control not to gape at him. He was judging someone he'd never met, purely on the basis of how good the person looked. Not even Harry and Ron were that fixated by good looks.
"I never really looked at him, so I wouldn't know." She said, smile getting a bit strained.
That seemed to do the trick; the boy gaped at her, but quickly recovered.
"So, anyway, my name's Robert. What's yours?"
"Hermione." She answered. "You know, I really have to get back to my friend, if you'd excuse me?" She continued, wanting to be out of his company as quickly as possible.
"Oh, I'll walk you there of course." Robert replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Hermione's expression darkened, but she could do nothing to stop him, so she just turned and headed back to the Charm's section, where she knew Bill would be. Robert trailed beside her, chattering about nothing, just like she and Bill had done, but in such a way that it made her annoyed.
Bill had expected her to talk just as much as he did, and he had known she'd contradict him, and sometimes make jokes, but Robert acted as if she was some kind of brainless airhead who couldn't do anything else than gaze adoringly at him, and agree with whatever he said.
They found Bill sitting at a table, nose deep in a heavy book, which on closer inspection turned out to be bound with dragon skin. She walked up to him and plopped down in a chair beside him, and to her great irritation, Robert still didn't leave.
"Hey, Bill, find anything?" She asked, interrupting Robert's tirade in mid- sentence.
"Not really, but I found another possibility. It doesn't have to be Borealis, you know." He said, glancing up from his book. "Find anything yourself?"
"No. It turns out this library has no books whatsoever on Arabian History, powerful wizards or otherwise." She grumbled.
"Ouch, bitter are we?" He grinned at her tone.
"Bill, if this was the library back home, I would have found that book at the most three minutes after I started searching. If I didn't find the one I was looking for, I'd at least have found a book on Arabian history! This library stinks, and you know it."
"Sheesh, every library isn't as good as the one back home, you know." He said.
"I know the book we're looking for; I've seen it before, in that very library back home. I'll write to Madame Pince as soon as I can get hold of an owl, and we'll have it here by the end of the week." Hermione declared.
"Madame Pince would actually let you take books off the grounds, and as far as Italy, at that? What'd you do? Bribe her?" He asked incredulously.
Hermione flashed him a superior grin, and tapped her nose.
"Bill, I've lived in that library for the past six years; I could commit murder there, and get away with it." She said smugly.
"I envy you, she'd never let me take a book outside the library even, on the grounds that I was a Weasley, and was bound to damage it somehow." He sighed. "She went to school with Dad, and he'd said to have been just as bad as Fred and George, if not worse." He added as an explanation, seeing her puzzled look.
"Hello, I'm talking here! It's rude to interrupt, you know!" Robert cut in.
"Oh, shut up, you pompous moron. We stopped listening a long time ago, so we'd appreciate if you stopped talking too." Hermione snapped.
Bill did his best to keep himself from laughing as Robert stared at her, and then spun on his heel and left. Hermione watched him go with a relieved expression on her face.
"I'm glad to be rid of that idiot. Now, we've been in here for quite some time, should we head back, you think?" She asked, turning back to Bill.
"You're probably right; I know a few other libraries we could try, but we'll do that tomorrow." He agreed.
****'
They walked back to the Swan and Dragon, a little annoyed that the university library had proved to be a dead end. The old barman, whose name they had yet to find out, greeted them with a nod when they entered. Bill stopped for a moment, and then seemed to remember something. He walked up to the old man, and held a conversation Hermione couldn't hear, and then came back with a disappointed look on his face.
"I asked about our rooms and if we could change them, but apparently we can't. We'll have to live with those we have." He said apologetically.
"That's alright. It could be worse, eh?" She joked lamely.
The truth was; she was uncomfortable with spending her nights in the same room as Bill. It wasn't that she thought he'd try anything, at was just that she'd never done anything like this in her life, and she had always been uncomfortable when things changed too fast.
"I guess it could. Now, you've got a letter to write, and we still haven't had dinner." He gestured for her to follow and headed up the stairs.
An hour later found them in their rooms. Hermione had finally gotten to change her clothes, after taking a much needed shower, and was now sitting at the small desk between the beds, writing a letter to Madame Pince.
She could hear Bill moving around in the outer room, doing god-knows-what, and put down her quill. Her stomach rumbled; it had been quite long since lunch, after all, and she was very hungry. She was just about to walk out and ask Bill when they'd eat, when said man opened the door.
"Hey, ´Mione, hungry yet?" He asked.
"Yes."
"Good, I've cooked some dinner. Come on, let's eat." He invited.
"You? Cooked dinner?" She asked in disbelief.
"Yeah, you thought I spent my years in the kitchen at the Burrow learning nothing? I know that of the rest of my brothers, only Charlie can make a passable meal, but that doesn't mean I'm a horrible cook." He winked at her.
"Oh, alright then, but if I get poisoned, you're paying for my hospital bills." She warned him.
"Yes, my lady." He joked.
´I wonder if he knows why I'm suspicious to Weasley cooking? After eating Ron's cooking, I'm entitled to be at least a bit suspicious.´ She thought. She walked out in the outer room, and discovered he had set up a table there. On the table were everything one could expect from a meal at the Burrow; pies, potatoes, steak and more vegetables than she could count.
"Bill, I stand corrected; you can cook." She admitted after the first mouthful.
"How could you ever doubt, ´Mione?" He asked, grinning. "By the way, are you finished with the letter yet?"
"Yes, I am. But I left my owl at home, so I can't send it."
"Not to worry, my lady, there is a post office down the street. We'll go there tomorrow." He promised, winking a bit.
They sat up for what seemed like hours, talking about the Borealis Curse, how to break it, and what could be in the treasure chest. When they ran out of things to talk about, they decided it was time to go to bed. They said good night to each other, and with little problem, the managed to go to bed without embarrassing each other. Once again, Hermione was asleep before her head hit the pillow.
*****'
Alright, that was long, for being me, at least. *sigh* Since English is my second language, I sometimes have trouble finding the right words for some things. If any of my sentences seem strange because of that, please don't flame me too bad.