Yes, I am aware that the name of the bookstore owner is the same as in
Heart of the Wolf, but I had originally planned to let him have a bigger
part. It didn't turn out that way, so I'll let him make an appearance here
instead.
I anyone gets the Mel Brooks reference I've made in his chapter, I'll give that person enough chocolate to knock them out. You've got to be damn good if you get. Or a Mel Brooks-maniac.
******'
The next day Hermione awoke in much the same fashion; Bill singing, being annoyingly awake and pulled her blankets away. This time, however, she sat up immediately, and growled at Bill.
"Oh, for the love of somebody! Bill, if you like music so damn much, I'll get you a stereo!" She snapped.
He started at her use of a curse word, but then grinned.
"Got you up, didn't I?" He said. "What's a stereo, anyway?"
"A Muggle thing; it plays music." She explained.
"I know about radios, but not stereos. What's the difference?" He seemed really interested.
She got up from the bad and, hand on her hips, glared at him.
"IF you would let me dress first, I'll tell you." She said.
Bill opened his mouth to reply, but seeing her expression, he quickly ducked out of the room. Hermione glared at him till the door slammed shut, and then turned to grab some clothes from her trunk, grumbling about slave driving Weasley's and Muggle obsessions. When she was finally done dressing, or rather changing clothes, she stepped out in the other room, to find Bill sitting in a chair, waiting for her.
"Well, ready to go yet?" She asked.
"Sure. Now, what is a stereo?" He asked, jumping up to walk beside her.
"You are too much like your dad. Anyway, I guess I'll have to explain then. You know radios play music according to the radio station you tune in, right?" She sighed.
"Yes?"
"Well, stereos and radios are very much alike, with the only difference that with a stereo, you can choose exactly what music you want to listen to, and when." She finished her explanation.
"Neat." He grinned.
"Yeah, I'll show you some time. But we have to owl Madame Pince now." She said gesturing to the letter she'd grabbed on her way out.
"Right then, come along." He said, leading the way.
******'
After they'd sent the letter to Madame Pince, a loud rumble from Bill's stomach reminded them that they had, in fact, skipped breakfast. Bill once again grabbed hold of her hand and dragged her off to the closest café he could find.
He ordered a good size breakfast, and nearly ate it all by himself, at the last moment remembering that Hermione should get something to eat too. He leaned back when he was finished, and seemed to drift off.
"Bill? What are you thinking about?" She asked.
"I'm wondering what could be in that chest. I tried, but I can't remember what was in the other one. I mean, what could be so important that you have to protect it with the Borealis Curse?" He said.
"Well, what could be so important that you have to protect it with a slobbering three-headed dog, the Devil's Snare, a swarm of flying keys, a mountain troll, a huge chess set, a logic riddle involving a lot of poison and the Mirror of Erised? Simple, the Philosopher's Stone." She grinned.
"Yeah, but Flammel was the only known creator of that one; and I doubt an Arabian wizard would create the Philosopher's Stone and then leave it in a chest in the cellars of an Italian university. It doesn't make sense. And the Phoenix, I'm sure there's something more to that than just protecting the chest." He speculated.
"You mean there's something connected to the Phoenix in that chest? Could be, but I would like to know what was in the first one."
"I'll see what I can do. There are some people in Cairo that ought to know." Bill offered.
"That'll be a good idea. You said there were other libraries we could check?" She asked.
"Well, not really libraries, but I have a friend around here who owns a bookstore. He has all sorts of rare books, and if I ask him nicely, I'm sure he'll let you have a look at them. His name's Corwith." He said.
"Would you? That would be wonderful!" She exclaimed.
"Yeah. Why don't I leave you there, while I go see what I can find out about the chest?" He asked.
"Sure, where is this shop?" She asked excitedly.
"I'll show you."
******'
Hermione stepped into Corwith's bookshop, and gasped. The shop, which had looked so small from the outside, was larger than any library she'd ever seen. It seemed to have been constructed by M. Escher having a field day, with stairs running up to the second floor, twisting in impossible angles. The shelves were crammed full of books, many of which she'd never even heard of before.
"I have died and gone to heaven." She breathed.
"I guess I won't be seeing you again." Bill grinned.
"Is your girlfriend cheating on you with my books, Bill?" Asked an amused voice from behind them.
"Oh, she's not my girlfriend, Corwith, she's my assistant. But yes, if she had a boyfriend, she would cheat on him with your books:" Bill replied, turning to the man behind him.
Corwith chuckled, and looked at Hermione. She was standing there, and clasped in front of her chest, mouth open in delight of what she saw.
"Now, Bill, you disappoint me; she's not your girlfriend?"
"No, she's not." Bill repeated.
"Why ever not, Bill?" Corwith asked, sounding surprised.
"Because she's my brother's best friend, Corwith, and I have a creeping suspicion he fancies her." Bill shrugged. "Besides, why should she be my girlfriend? She's a good friend, but nothing more"
"You just keep telling yourself that, boy." Corwith nodded knowingly.
"Whatever. I'll leave her in your care, and I want her to be alive and conscious when I come back, you hear me?" He said.
"Why are you leaving?"
"I have to talk to some people, and I ordered her to find some books. When she comes out of her daze, remind her, will you?" Bill grinned as he watched Hermione
"Sure thing, Bill, sure thing."
Bill took one last look at Hermione, shook his head and headed out the door. She'd be safely occupied for hours ahead.
*****'
Hermione snapped out of her daze as soon as Bill was out the door. She grinned widely at the wider range of books in the store, and dreamily started to walk through the aisles. After less than half an hour, she had found all that Bill had requested, and a few books that she thought looked like they could help.
She walked to the table that was conveniently placed in the middle of the store, sat down and started skimming though the books. They proved to be so interesting that she quickly lost herself in them, and didn't even notice when Corwith came up beside her.
"Find anything interesting?" He asked, startling her.
"Yes, I have." She smiled, when she recovered from the shock.
Corwith sat down next to her and looked over the books on the table. He picked up a few and inspected them closer, and nodded to himself.
"So, you had a run in with the Borealis Curse, eh?" He asked.
"Well, that's what we think it is. It's the only thing that's logical, and if it is, Bill said he didn't dare try to put a scanning spell on it, since it'd only make the curse react." She explained.
"He said that, did he?" Corwith's eyes twinkled in a way disturbingly like that of Albus Dumbledore.
"Did I say something funny?" She asked, puzzled.
"No, no; it's nothing, just an old mans speculations. How long have you known him, then? I haven't seen you around before."
"Oh, I go to school with his brother, and I met him for the first time three or four years ago. I can't remember exactly." She shrugged.
"Which brother? Bill has a lot of them, if I remember correctly." Corwith wanted to know.
"The youngest, Ron. We've been friends since the first year at Hogwarts, and I'm starting seventh year this fall." She smiled, remembering their many adventures.
Then she suddenly lost her smile, when she remembered she and Ron weren't talking to each other right now. But then she shook off the gloomy thoughts and returned to the present.
"I'm not sure if Bill wants me to purchase these books, so would it be alright if I took some notes?" She asked timidly.
"You go right ahead, girl. If you need any help, don't hesitate to scream." He said, winked at her, and was gone.
"Right, and he asked me those questions because?" Hermione asked no one in particular.
Shaking her head, she went back to her books. She had a lot to do before Bill came back.
*****'
When a hand clamped down on her shoulder, she jumped sky-high. She spun around and whipped out her wand, preparing to throw a nasty hex at whoever it was, before she saw it was Bill. She sighed, dropped her wand arm down again, and tried to calm down.
"Whoa, ´Mione, calm down, it's just me." Bill said, holding his hands in front of him, laughing.
"Sorry, Bill; battle nerves, I guess. Why are you here?" She apologized.
"I'm here to pick you up, ´Mione; you've been here all day long. You didn't even eat lunch, according to Corwith." He scolded her lightly.
"Sorry, I didn't realize I was here so long." She blushed a little.
"Sure, sure. Let's pay for these books, and then we can go eat dinner." He said.
He grabbed the books on the table, found Corwith and paid him, and then they headed out the door together. Hermione carried her own extensive notes, as well as a few of the books, while Bill took the rest of the massive stack of reading material.
*****'
She was sitting on her bed, nose deep in one of the books they'd bought. They had gone back to the Swan and Dragon and ate dinner, but only after Bill threatened to force feed her if she didn't eat. After that, she'd retreated to the bedroom with the books, and buried herself in work.
Bill had disappeared somewhere, probably out hunting for something else to eat. She could never have guessed how much food he needed just to stay upright. He ate breakfast, then worked for an hour, and then ate at least a sandwich, and after that, it was an hour of work, and then lunch. And it didn't get much better than that. Sometimes, she thought he was just eating all the time to annoy her.
She shook off the contemplations and went back to the book. It was fascinating; it was about the founder of the Borealis Curse, Tomas Larsson, and how he came up with the curse, and why. A biography, of sorts.
When she finally put down the book, it was dark outside, and time to go to sleep. She slipped out of bed and walked to the bathroom. Bill was sitting in one of the chairs of the outer room, reading another book. He glanced up at her and nodded, before going back to his reading. She nodded back sleepily, brushed her teeth, and went back to the bedroom.
She was exhausted, and falling sleep quickly seemed to be her new habit. She crawled under the covers and buried her head in the pillow, mulling over the days events.
The biography hadn't looked very promising at first, but after a while it began to talk more and more about the Borealis Curse. Tomas Larsson had been a very powerful wizard, one of the most powerful wizards in history, in fact. He nearly rivalled Albus Dumbledore in power, and just like the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Tomas Larsson had chosen to use his powers to protect others.
The Borealis Curse had from the beginning been meant to be put on secret hideouts, the kind people escaped to when the likes of Death Eaters attacked. Of course, there hadn't been Death Eaters back then, but the comparison would have to do. It had also been meant to be placed on homes so that wolves or other carnivores couldn't break in and attack humans and livestock. Apparently the winters in northern Sweden were harsh.
It had gone from being a protective ward to becoming a curse to repel thieves or treasure hunters. It was only used rarely, mainly because of its strength and the time and energy spent in casting it. It was also a very complicated spell, which few could master.
Bill had told her that he'd found a few things out about the first chest, but unfortunately not what it had contained. He'd written to a few of his friends in Egypt about it, and asked them for more information. Hopefully, they'd answer quickly.
She sighed and cleared her mind of everything. Soon, she was fast asleep.
*****'
Ending Notes: Alright, so it's a lot shorter than the last chapter. So sue me. I decided that we need to move this plot along a bit, and therefore, the day in Corwith's bookshop. Probably doesn't make sense, but anyway. And if any of you recognize the name Corwith, it's me stealing from Mercedes Lackey again. Corwith's an owl in one of her books. I can't help it; the books are just so good.
I anyone gets the Mel Brooks reference I've made in his chapter, I'll give that person enough chocolate to knock them out. You've got to be damn good if you get. Or a Mel Brooks-maniac.
******'
The next day Hermione awoke in much the same fashion; Bill singing, being annoyingly awake and pulled her blankets away. This time, however, she sat up immediately, and growled at Bill.
"Oh, for the love of somebody! Bill, if you like music so damn much, I'll get you a stereo!" She snapped.
He started at her use of a curse word, but then grinned.
"Got you up, didn't I?" He said. "What's a stereo, anyway?"
"A Muggle thing; it plays music." She explained.
"I know about radios, but not stereos. What's the difference?" He seemed really interested.
She got up from the bad and, hand on her hips, glared at him.
"IF you would let me dress first, I'll tell you." She said.
Bill opened his mouth to reply, but seeing her expression, he quickly ducked out of the room. Hermione glared at him till the door slammed shut, and then turned to grab some clothes from her trunk, grumbling about slave driving Weasley's and Muggle obsessions. When she was finally done dressing, or rather changing clothes, she stepped out in the other room, to find Bill sitting in a chair, waiting for her.
"Well, ready to go yet?" She asked.
"Sure. Now, what is a stereo?" He asked, jumping up to walk beside her.
"You are too much like your dad. Anyway, I guess I'll have to explain then. You know radios play music according to the radio station you tune in, right?" She sighed.
"Yes?"
"Well, stereos and radios are very much alike, with the only difference that with a stereo, you can choose exactly what music you want to listen to, and when." She finished her explanation.
"Neat." He grinned.
"Yeah, I'll show you some time. But we have to owl Madame Pince now." She said gesturing to the letter she'd grabbed on her way out.
"Right then, come along." He said, leading the way.
******'
After they'd sent the letter to Madame Pince, a loud rumble from Bill's stomach reminded them that they had, in fact, skipped breakfast. Bill once again grabbed hold of her hand and dragged her off to the closest café he could find.
He ordered a good size breakfast, and nearly ate it all by himself, at the last moment remembering that Hermione should get something to eat too. He leaned back when he was finished, and seemed to drift off.
"Bill? What are you thinking about?" She asked.
"I'm wondering what could be in that chest. I tried, but I can't remember what was in the other one. I mean, what could be so important that you have to protect it with the Borealis Curse?" He said.
"Well, what could be so important that you have to protect it with a slobbering three-headed dog, the Devil's Snare, a swarm of flying keys, a mountain troll, a huge chess set, a logic riddle involving a lot of poison and the Mirror of Erised? Simple, the Philosopher's Stone." She grinned.
"Yeah, but Flammel was the only known creator of that one; and I doubt an Arabian wizard would create the Philosopher's Stone and then leave it in a chest in the cellars of an Italian university. It doesn't make sense. And the Phoenix, I'm sure there's something more to that than just protecting the chest." He speculated.
"You mean there's something connected to the Phoenix in that chest? Could be, but I would like to know what was in the first one."
"I'll see what I can do. There are some people in Cairo that ought to know." Bill offered.
"That'll be a good idea. You said there were other libraries we could check?" She asked.
"Well, not really libraries, but I have a friend around here who owns a bookstore. He has all sorts of rare books, and if I ask him nicely, I'm sure he'll let you have a look at them. His name's Corwith." He said.
"Would you? That would be wonderful!" She exclaimed.
"Yeah. Why don't I leave you there, while I go see what I can find out about the chest?" He asked.
"Sure, where is this shop?" She asked excitedly.
"I'll show you."
******'
Hermione stepped into Corwith's bookshop, and gasped. The shop, which had looked so small from the outside, was larger than any library she'd ever seen. It seemed to have been constructed by M. Escher having a field day, with stairs running up to the second floor, twisting in impossible angles. The shelves were crammed full of books, many of which she'd never even heard of before.
"I have died and gone to heaven." She breathed.
"I guess I won't be seeing you again." Bill grinned.
"Is your girlfriend cheating on you with my books, Bill?" Asked an amused voice from behind them.
"Oh, she's not my girlfriend, Corwith, she's my assistant. But yes, if she had a boyfriend, she would cheat on him with your books:" Bill replied, turning to the man behind him.
Corwith chuckled, and looked at Hermione. She was standing there, and clasped in front of her chest, mouth open in delight of what she saw.
"Now, Bill, you disappoint me; she's not your girlfriend?"
"No, she's not." Bill repeated.
"Why ever not, Bill?" Corwith asked, sounding surprised.
"Because she's my brother's best friend, Corwith, and I have a creeping suspicion he fancies her." Bill shrugged. "Besides, why should she be my girlfriend? She's a good friend, but nothing more"
"You just keep telling yourself that, boy." Corwith nodded knowingly.
"Whatever. I'll leave her in your care, and I want her to be alive and conscious when I come back, you hear me?" He said.
"Why are you leaving?"
"I have to talk to some people, and I ordered her to find some books. When she comes out of her daze, remind her, will you?" Bill grinned as he watched Hermione
"Sure thing, Bill, sure thing."
Bill took one last look at Hermione, shook his head and headed out the door. She'd be safely occupied for hours ahead.
*****'
Hermione snapped out of her daze as soon as Bill was out the door. She grinned widely at the wider range of books in the store, and dreamily started to walk through the aisles. After less than half an hour, she had found all that Bill had requested, and a few books that she thought looked like they could help.
She walked to the table that was conveniently placed in the middle of the store, sat down and started skimming though the books. They proved to be so interesting that she quickly lost herself in them, and didn't even notice when Corwith came up beside her.
"Find anything interesting?" He asked, startling her.
"Yes, I have." She smiled, when she recovered from the shock.
Corwith sat down next to her and looked over the books on the table. He picked up a few and inspected them closer, and nodded to himself.
"So, you had a run in with the Borealis Curse, eh?" He asked.
"Well, that's what we think it is. It's the only thing that's logical, and if it is, Bill said he didn't dare try to put a scanning spell on it, since it'd only make the curse react." She explained.
"He said that, did he?" Corwith's eyes twinkled in a way disturbingly like that of Albus Dumbledore.
"Did I say something funny?" She asked, puzzled.
"No, no; it's nothing, just an old mans speculations. How long have you known him, then? I haven't seen you around before."
"Oh, I go to school with his brother, and I met him for the first time three or four years ago. I can't remember exactly." She shrugged.
"Which brother? Bill has a lot of them, if I remember correctly." Corwith wanted to know.
"The youngest, Ron. We've been friends since the first year at Hogwarts, and I'm starting seventh year this fall." She smiled, remembering their many adventures.
Then she suddenly lost her smile, when she remembered she and Ron weren't talking to each other right now. But then she shook off the gloomy thoughts and returned to the present.
"I'm not sure if Bill wants me to purchase these books, so would it be alright if I took some notes?" She asked timidly.
"You go right ahead, girl. If you need any help, don't hesitate to scream." He said, winked at her, and was gone.
"Right, and he asked me those questions because?" Hermione asked no one in particular.
Shaking her head, she went back to her books. She had a lot to do before Bill came back.
*****'
When a hand clamped down on her shoulder, she jumped sky-high. She spun around and whipped out her wand, preparing to throw a nasty hex at whoever it was, before she saw it was Bill. She sighed, dropped her wand arm down again, and tried to calm down.
"Whoa, ´Mione, calm down, it's just me." Bill said, holding his hands in front of him, laughing.
"Sorry, Bill; battle nerves, I guess. Why are you here?" She apologized.
"I'm here to pick you up, ´Mione; you've been here all day long. You didn't even eat lunch, according to Corwith." He scolded her lightly.
"Sorry, I didn't realize I was here so long." She blushed a little.
"Sure, sure. Let's pay for these books, and then we can go eat dinner." He said.
He grabbed the books on the table, found Corwith and paid him, and then they headed out the door together. Hermione carried her own extensive notes, as well as a few of the books, while Bill took the rest of the massive stack of reading material.
*****'
She was sitting on her bed, nose deep in one of the books they'd bought. They had gone back to the Swan and Dragon and ate dinner, but only after Bill threatened to force feed her if she didn't eat. After that, she'd retreated to the bedroom with the books, and buried herself in work.
Bill had disappeared somewhere, probably out hunting for something else to eat. She could never have guessed how much food he needed just to stay upright. He ate breakfast, then worked for an hour, and then ate at least a sandwich, and after that, it was an hour of work, and then lunch. And it didn't get much better than that. Sometimes, she thought he was just eating all the time to annoy her.
She shook off the contemplations and went back to the book. It was fascinating; it was about the founder of the Borealis Curse, Tomas Larsson, and how he came up with the curse, and why. A biography, of sorts.
When she finally put down the book, it was dark outside, and time to go to sleep. She slipped out of bed and walked to the bathroom. Bill was sitting in one of the chairs of the outer room, reading another book. He glanced up at her and nodded, before going back to his reading. She nodded back sleepily, brushed her teeth, and went back to the bedroom.
She was exhausted, and falling sleep quickly seemed to be her new habit. She crawled under the covers and buried her head in the pillow, mulling over the days events.
The biography hadn't looked very promising at first, but after a while it began to talk more and more about the Borealis Curse. Tomas Larsson had been a very powerful wizard, one of the most powerful wizards in history, in fact. He nearly rivalled Albus Dumbledore in power, and just like the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Tomas Larsson had chosen to use his powers to protect others.
The Borealis Curse had from the beginning been meant to be put on secret hideouts, the kind people escaped to when the likes of Death Eaters attacked. Of course, there hadn't been Death Eaters back then, but the comparison would have to do. It had also been meant to be placed on homes so that wolves or other carnivores couldn't break in and attack humans and livestock. Apparently the winters in northern Sweden were harsh.
It had gone from being a protective ward to becoming a curse to repel thieves or treasure hunters. It was only used rarely, mainly because of its strength and the time and energy spent in casting it. It was also a very complicated spell, which few could master.
Bill had told her that he'd found a few things out about the first chest, but unfortunately not what it had contained. He'd written to a few of his friends in Egypt about it, and asked them for more information. Hopefully, they'd answer quickly.
She sighed and cleared her mind of everything. Soon, she was fast asleep.
*****'
Ending Notes: Alright, so it's a lot shorter than the last chapter. So sue me. I decided that we need to move this plot along a bit, and therefore, the day in Corwith's bookshop. Probably doesn't make sense, but anyway. And if any of you recognize the name Corwith, it's me stealing from Mercedes Lackey again. Corwith's an owl in one of her books. I can't help it; the books are just so good.