July 1995
At three o'clock in the afternoon, Bill Weasley found himself lazily pulling his hair back into a ponytail as he entered Gringotts Bank. Most people would soon be wrapping up their work days in just a few short hours; gearing up for dinner or plans with family or friends. He, however, was just getting his day started; he was in for a very long evening—an evening underground, at that.
He wasn't used to these hours spent indoors and it was still taking some getting used to. He'd been with Gringotts since the moment he finished Hogwarts six years ago, but under a very different capacity. He was a curse breaker; formerly a wizard in the field. He was someone who went into pyramids, someone who spent all his time soaked to the bone in sweat under the Egyptian sun, someone who spent many a night sleeping under the stars with only camel grunts and fire cracklings causing any noise. He'd watched a man melt in front of him once—a powerful curse that he'd just escaped himself—and yet here he was, now back in England working at the actual bank in securities.
While it could have been worse, it still was far different from what he was used to. But life had changed the moment it had become apparent Voldemort had returned.
He'd been at Hogwarts on the night when Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory had been tricked into taking an illegal Portkey straight to a graveyard where Voldemort was waiting for them. Harry, the famous Boy-Who-Lived; Cedric, whose family Bill had known most of his life and who lived only a few miles down the way from his childhood home. They'd come face to face with Voldemort, though only one of them lived to tell the tale. Poor Cedric had been murdered that night and Harry barely escaped with his own life.
Bill had been in the stands watching with his parents and siblings that night. The chaos that ensued once Harry returned with Cedric's body was something he could still barely process. Harry had been whisked away by an impostor Mad-Eye Moody, who would later prove to be a Death Eater. People were screaming at the sight of Cedric; many were crying. Bill's own mother had grabbed his arm so tightly that he'd had those marks for a week after the fact. He didn't think he'd ever get the sounds of Mr. and Mrs. Diggory's wails out of his mind. His parents had both dashed off to offer them support.
In the end, after the dust had settled and Harry told his side of the story, one thing was abundantly clear. Voldemort was back. The Death Eaters were assembling again. Everything was going to change and nothing felt safe.
He didn't see how he could go back to Egypt and leave his family to tackle this. Even under normal circumstances his family would have found a way to fight; with Harry now practically part of the family, they were on the front lines. This was now beyond protecting themselves, but also keeping Harry safe at all cost. There was no way he could simply Portkey back to Egypt and pretend nothing was happening back home.
"Dumbledore's assembled an organization," his father told him the night before he was due back to Egypt, as the pair of them sat in the kitchen of the Burrow sipping on Firewhiskey. His mother had just gone to bed and the house was still and quiet seeing as his siblings were finishing up their term at school. "Or, rather he's reassembling an organization."
Bill stared at him, watching as he took a small sip of his drink before continuing. "Do you remember hearing anything about the Order of the Phoenix when you were smaller? You were young…"
He did remember some things, though nothing of note. He knew his Uncles Fabian and Gideon had been involved before their deaths when he was six—and some of the only memories he still had of them revolved around their visits to Burrow where they would mention the Order when speaking to his parents. Usually when the topic came up, Bill and his brother, Charlie, were promptly ushered from the room and told to go play out in the garden.
He knew more about the Order in a historical sense now. The stories that were told; the fact that they'd formed as a resistance group against Voldemort. His parents had never joined because they seemed to always have a collection of small children to look after. His mother once flippantly mentioned that her brothers had always deterred her from getting too involved for fear of orphaning her children. She always claimed to feel as though she were on the outside looking in; feeling rather helpless, but wanting to get more involved. This was especially true once her brothers were killed, but she and Bill's father ultimately stayed on the outside watching—becoming one of the few couples who continued to expand their families during Voldemort's reign of terror instead of holding back.
"I know what you've told me," Bill said to his father. "I know Uncle Fabian and Uncle Gideon were a part of it. I know they died as part of it. I know their goal was to stop You-Know-Who."
His father nodded, looking tired as he glanced toward the door of the kitchen, almost as if checking for something. "Well, it's back now. It's back and Dumbledore is looking for help filling it out with people he knows are loyal. Your mother and I are involved this time—not making that mistake again—and Dumbledore's given me permission to ask if you would be interested in joining."
Bill stared at him. Was he serious?
"I'm serious," his father said, as if reading his mind. "You and Charlie. He has roles for you both. If you're interested."
"Of course I'm interested," Bill said immediately, now feeling a mixture of excited and apprehensive. "Whatever it takes."
His father smiled a little. "I'll tell you your mother wasn't keen at first. She has to be reminded sometimes that you and Charlie are not the little boys you once were, despite the fact that you've both been off on your own for years. But she came around. She understands that you're in a perfect position for what Dumbledore's asking of you."
"Which is what?"
"He wants you to use your position at Gringotts and your familiarity with the goblins there to keep tabs of them. He feels You-Know-Who will attempt to lure them to his side with promises of a better life once he tries to overthrow the Ministry to come to power. And seeing as they are not happy with the way the Ministry has treated them...ever, it's possible they may follow suit. If You-Know-Who gets the goblins, he controls the money."
"Goblins don't care about wizard affairs," Bill said. "And they're not stupid enough to think that they'll get anything more from You-Know-Who than they would currently. They rarely take sides; they only care about themselves."
"Which is why it would be good to know if You-Know-Who somehow does get through to them," his father said. "Bill, you were too young to remember what that man is capable of. What's that saying? 'The enemy of my enemy is my friend?' You've told me how fed up the goblins are with the Ministry. If briefly teaming up with You-Know-Who helps them take out one of their problems, they'll figure out the rest later. But by then, You-Know-Who is already in power and they won't realize what they've done until it's too late. This is why Dumbledore wants ears in Gringotts."
Bill slowly inhaled as he took all of that in. "But I don't work at Gringotts. I work for Gringotts. How would I have ears…?"
His father stared at him. At once, Bill knew what he was going to say before he said it. "You would have to request a transfer back here. You'd have to come home." He grew quiet for a moment. "This is contingent on you moving back here, Bill. If that's something you'd be willing to do."
Bill was told to think it over since it was a huge decision, but he'd known by the following morning—after the haunting screams of spectators from the third task filled his dreams—that he'd been putting in a transfer the second he could. He knew he'd get it; there were plenty of people who would be ready and willing to step up and take his place in the field. He knew they would welcome his curse breaking expertise back at the bank.
That was it, then. He'd go back to Egypt to sort out his affairs and pack up his belongings. He'd be coming home.
He'd been back and forth twice over the last week, but only officially home three days now. He'd been getting acquainted with his new secret life of being in the Order of Phoenix; being back in England; living in his childhood home again. That was probably the most insane adjustment, having gone from living his solitary life of adventure and excitement to returning to the Burrow on the outskirts of Ottery St. Catchpole, where the most exciting things to happen were if the gnomes in the garden happened to brawling in the flower beds.
But it could have been worse. He could have been back and living with not only his parents but his four youngest siblings—all of whom were home from school for the summer holiday and would have made an already cramped space smaller. Luckily for him, his parents had moved them all to the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix for the summer in order to use it's protective charms to safeguard the family. Harry was hopefully to join them soon enough; there really was no safer place to be at the moment.
He had been offered to join them—actually, he'd been pleaded with by his mother—but he'd opted to stay at the Burrow on his own. He hadn't even considered joining the rest of his family since he ultimately did crave the silence and privacy that living with his family—as well as the comings-and-goings that Order members who passed through Grimmauld Place—couldn't give him. It was a nice compromise for moving home. If he had to be back at the Burrow, at least he was back at an empty Burrow.
Back at Gringotts, Bill nodded to the security wizards who were guarding the entrance to the bank. He immediately bypassed the main room, where the goblins and the public were conducting their daily business, and hung a left toward a more hidden door. He used his wand to gain entrance and had to go through two more doors that required his wand to be checked before he was finally allowed to enter the more administrative area of the bank. It was back here where all the day-to-day happenings and operations of the bank occurred; the place the public wasn't privy to seeing. Most people probably had no idea how large the bank actually was behind the scenes.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Weasley," said an older woman called Roberta, who smiled brightly at him—as she always did. As far as Bill knew, she had manned that reception desk since the fifties and she seemed to know everyone who worked here. Along with knowing everyone, she knew everything and anything there was to know about Gringotts; one would be hard pressed to find a witch who spoke better Gobbledegook than her.
"Afternoon," he said, smiling back at her.
She giggled and and fixated a rather large smile on her face. "Headed into the vaults tonight?"
"Of course," he said, throwing her a lazy grin as he passed. "It's practically my second home."
Into the vaults. That was his life for the next few month. When he'd put in a transfer back to the bank, it had been explained to him that the goblin higher-ups were looking to upgrade security measures to an even higher standard than they'd been in the past. This was saying something, seeing as Gringotts was easily one of the most difficult places in the world to access without permission. It was next to impossible to break-in.
But that wasn't to say there hadn't been...incidents. The most major having occurred just a few short years before, when a secure vault had somehow been infiltrated. That had sent the entire organization into a frenzy, and regulating security had been chaotic ever since.
It had been four years since that break-in—four years since new and better systems had been put in place—yet the goblins were still never satisfied and insisted the measures were constantly upgraded. They were always recruiting wizards to create new, unbreakable curses; only to have curse breakers like himself come in and attempt to crack them.
This was also the reason he didn't start his day until three o'clock. Breaking curses and messing around in the heart of the bank was better left to after hours when most everyone else had gone home. That meant he arrived with enough time to check in with the day security personnel and get updates; then he would spend all afternoon into the late evening attempting to see if he could break into restricted areas and specific vaults. This was all under heavy goblin supervision, of course. There were usually no less than three of them watching his every move and taking notes. There were also at least two other curse breakers and a slew of security wizards present in case someone decided to get some funny ideas about robbing the bank.
Robbing banks wasn't his style, so he really had nothing to worry about. What it did give him was complete access to the most powerful and influential goblins in Gringotts, which is exactly what the Order had requested of him. Now, he just needed to see if any useful information became available.
"Hey, Weasley," said a voice in passing, a bloke by the name of Thomas who worked in loans. Bill knew him from his days at Hogwarts, and nodded a quick hello and he made his way to the lifts. He had just enough time to make it to the third floor and drop off his things, say his hellos, get a cup of tea, and head over to check the day's security activity.
"Hi, Bill," came a sing-song sort of voice, just as he reached the lifts and was about to push the button. "You just get in?"
He turned and saw a petite little brunette cheerfully smiling at him. Her name was Eliza, and he knew her vaguely since his brother Charlie had dated her for all of a bit back in school—though perhaps dated was the wrong word, since they more of less got off in a broom cupboard a few times before calling it quits—but he kept running into her around here. She always stopped him to chat.
"Hey, hi. Yeah," he said politely, returning her smile right as the lift dinged and singled it was arriving.
"These late nights every night must kill you," she said, still smiling at him. "I don't know how you do it."
"You get used to it," he offered, which was partially true. He'd always been a night owl type—staying up late and sleeping in when he could. The only difference was that in Egypt, the late nights had been due to his social life. Now it was all work. He didn't have time for a social life anymore.
Eliza looked to want to chat more, but the lift was here and he needed to get moving. He bid her goodbye—she'd made a point to tell him to have a wonderful night—and found his way to the shared office space he split with a handful of others curse breakers. It was currently empty, which was fine. It meant they were already gearing up for their meeting; he could now grab his tea without all the small talk.
There was a knock on the door then which caused Bill to look up and take notice of a short and round bloke called Pillbudy, who'd been working at Gringotts a decade longer than he had, but to his knowledge had never worked a day outside of this office. He was frequently the contact point between his work in the field and everything here back in London, so they were friendly. For Bill it was more of a professional friendly, whereas for Pillbudy, he seemed to think they were mates. He was currently smiling at him.
"Bill! How's it going?"
"Uh, good," Bill said, tossing his bag down at his desk and stepping toward the door that Pillbudy was now blocking. "Going to grab some tea before heading down." He stopped when Pillbudy didn't move out of his way. "You need something?"
"Just wanted to ask you what you were doing on Thursday night," Pillbudy said, grinning at him. "I know that's your night off."
It was, but why did he know that? Sure, it wasn't difficult information to find out, but when he said it like that it felt as if he was keeping tabs on him.
"I ask," he continued, "because a group of us were headed out to grab some drinks and we were going to ask if you wanted to tag along." He smiled a bit strangely, as if he had some sort of secret. "I ask specifically because...you know Kami in currency processing?"
No. He didn't, and he said as much. He also finally got an open and stepped around Pillbudy to make his way to exit.
"Oh, no, well," Pillbudy said, apparently now following him down the corridor. "You're missing out. She's lovely. Very pretty, if you know what I mean. Anyway, she was asking about you, and I know you mentioned you were single, so I told her…"
Bill sighed. He hadn't mentioned he was single, he'd been asked—repeatedly—about whether or not he was seeing someone. There was a difference. And he was starting to regret offering up that information because the last thing he wanted or needed right now was Rick Pillbudy setting him up with someone.
There were so many reasons he didn't need that, most of all being that the last thing he had time for right now was a girl, or a relationship, or anything that would take away what little free time he had. He genuinely worked all the time—literally into the night—and he often slept most mornings away. On the days he had off, he had Order business to attend to—meetings at Grimmauld Place, or helping out Dumbledore and Mad-Eye with assignments and keeping watch on people and places. He had maybe three hours to himself on any given week to do with what he wanted. He wasn't currently looking for that to be spent on dating.
"You should talk to her, mate." Pillbudy continued. "She'd been very keen to get to know you better."
"Well, I'm flattered, but I'm not looking for anything right now," Bill said as he led the way down the corridor. "I just don't have the time. Life is busy."
"Maybe you should meet her. Then decide if you have the time."
"I don't see how…" Bill mumbled, realizing Pillbudy just wasn't getting it. "Look. thanks, but no thanks. I'm good when it comes to that sort of thing."
"Oh," said Pillbudy, still walking alongside him. "Right. Alright. Yeah, I'm sure you've got no problem pulling your own girls. You probably never had, huh? Good looking bloke like you." He laughed. "Well, if you want, you can still come out on Thursday. Offer still stands."
"Thanks, but I usually use Thursday to relax and catch up on sleep," he lied. The truth was, Thursdays were for a standing Order meeting, hence why he'd arranged to have Thursday's free. They were also the most important, seeing as that was the day Dumbledore usually turned up.
Pillbudy pulled a face. "Sleep?"
"Adjusting to the time change had been rough," Bill muttered. "Still getting used to it."
Pillbudy sighed as the tearoom came into sight. "It's just mad because I remember when you'd swing through town before and come by the office, you always had so many stories from your nights out. You always had something going on and were the life of the party. Now that you're home you've been…"
He stopped short of calling him a bore, but it was all over his face.
"I don't know what to tell you," Bill said, quickening his pace. "That was Cairo me. London me…" He hesitated. Truth was, London him would love nothing more than to cut loose and go out all night. Meet some exciting girl who would blow his mind and maybe some other things; change his world for a weekend. Get drunk and wake up somewhere different before he pulled himself together for work on Monday morning ready to go. But that just simply wasn't the reality anymore. That wasn't the world anymore. Voldemort was back. There was so much to do and prepare for.
"Well, London me has more responsibilities," Bill finished.
"Alright. Well, we'll be there," Pillbudy said, sounding slightly put out. "Think about it."
'Yeah, sure. I'll think about it," Bill said.
And he would think about it—that wasn't a lie—but that was about all he was willing to do at the moment. While a night out could be good fun, he wasn't entirely sure Pillbudy and the crew of the "Gringotts Foreign Affairs and Discovery Department'' was going to provide that sort of outlet for him.
Pillbudy had switched topics as they approached the tearoom—now telling some story about what he and his workmates got up to during their nights out. It was instances like this where Bill truly missed the dead mummified bodies and deadly curses. The mummies never told random and rather dull stories; there was no banal small talk with them.
Upon reaching the entrance, he stepped aside to let a young woman who'd been leaving the tearoom exit first. However, something odd happened then when she passed him. Not only did he suddenly feel a strange compulsion to watch at her as she strolled by, but she'd also turned to look back at him.
Tall and willowy; with long, silvery blond hair; and lovely, piercing blue eyes; she was gorgeous in a way that actually made him pause for a moment because he didn't usually see the likes of her around the halls of Gringotts. He wasn't sure he saw it often anywhere to be honest, though he couldn't shake the feeling that he knew her from somewhere. If he did, he wasn't sure how he'd managed to forget a face like that. She seemed like the type of girl he'd remember meeting.
She caught his eye and smiled at him. "Bonjour."
If she was pretty before, with the smile she was damn near blindingly attractive.
And she had a heavy French accent. Who did he know that was French? How did he know her? He'd been about to ask her if they'd met before when Pillbudy suddenly reminded him of his presence by saying, "Oh you should really hear about the last time the lads and I went out, Bill. It was a laugh. See…"
Bill looked away from the blond to briefly glance at Pillbudy, but apparently that was all it took for her to suddenly answer someone who'd called out to her down the corridor. She made to catch up with them, but she had very purposefully turned and smiled at him once more as she did.
"Jim puts this glass on his head," said Pillbudy through his laughter. "He tells everyone that he can…"
Bill barely heard him; he'd felt a bit of a head rush now. He found himself turning to look back down the corridor to catch one last look at that woman, watching as she made the first immediate right and disappeared out of sight. For a moment, he forgot what he was even doing, though it slowly came to him that he'd come to get tea. That's why he was standing here.
He blinked, turning to Pillbudy and asking, "Have you seen that girl before?"
"Who?" he asked, looking confused.
"The blond one who was just here."
Pillbudy shrugged. "I wasn't paying attention."
Bill stared at him. How could he not have paid attention?
"I saw her," came the voice of an older gentleman who was sitting in the tearoom. Bill had no idea who he was, though he did recognize a goblin called Fullnok who was occupying the same table.
"She had the same effect on me, too," the man added.
"What effect?" Pillbudy asked, having stopped talking and now looking around confused. "Who?"
"Do you know her?" Bill asked the room at large, still finding himself tremendously curious who she was or why he felt he knew her. "Or what department she works in?"
The older man shook his head. "First time I've ever seen her. She must be new. Hopefully it's not the last time I see her."
"She was carrying deposit files," said Fullnok. "I'd assume she was a file clerk of some kind."
Bill let a defeated sigh escape him at that comment. There were literally millions of files in this building spread over hundreds of rooms where deposit records could be stored. That did nothing to help him answer that question.
He'd definitely seen her before. He was sure of it. But where?
