The young witch was a bit of a mystery. And she, Madame Irene Adler, loved mysteries. Her clients did as well, but if she could perhaps detect some famous name in her ancestry, that would give her the opportunity to raise the price even further. Well, one or two names were already promising, but nothing for wizarding standards.
"Did you find anything interesting, Irene?" Lucius enquired stepping into her office. He was curious. Vetting her credentials and her past was something, that was standard procedure for such a valuable auction. After all the clients had exquisite tastes. Only that he had no intention of letting her get to anyone else.
"Your little prize is full of mysteries." She smirked. "We could trace her mother's ancestry pretty well. Her grandfather on her mother's side comes from an old wizarding line that died out due to the birth of Squibs. An old line like that must have a sealed vault in Gringotts. So, she can never find out about that or we'll lose our prize. Her grandmother's ancestry, however, is all over the place. The census records show that she was born in Málaga, Spain, but she has ancestors from all over Europe, Northern Africa and the Middle East."
"Well, considering Spain's eventful history I'd say that is not surprising." Lucius smirked. "Can she speak Spanish? My son was convinced that he heard her speak Spanish with an old lady in Diagon Alley once."
She quickly made a note to enquire about that. It would certainly increase the pool of contestants if she was actually able to speak a foreign language. "I shall find out. Probably her grandmother."
"Granger's parents were… what was the word…Zabini used: Dentists?" Lucius enquired with a slight sneer.
"That's correct." she answered hesitantly. "Well, they both were dentists, but my little minions in the Muggle police force told me that they also found Military service records. Both her parents did serve for some time. Their clients were mostly from the military and their families."
"It could explain why Granger felt so compelled to fight together with Potter. Both her parents served, and perhaps this was her way of serving the greater good. How noble of her" He said sarcastically.
"Then what is so mysterious about Granger?"
"Her father's ancestry." Irene shrugged. "We were unable to find any trace of his origins. His last name isn't even Granger. He took his wife's last name. That alone is more than unusual. He doesn't show up in any census lists. It's as if he just appeared out of nowhere."
"Could he have worked for the Muggle police, Spooks, they are called aren't they?" Lucius asked intrigued.
"It is certainly a possibility, but even then, there would be some trace of his origins." It almost seems that he appeared out of nowhere. His grades and A-levels must have been good enough to get him into med school and into the service, but apart from that. There is nothing. Muggles are usually leaving trails after trails, but not him."
"Could you get a hold of his service records? Perhaps we could find something about that there?" Lucius wanted to get at the bottom of this.
"I tried, Lucius, but I have nobody that high up." My contact in the police force hit a brick wall. Especially, as they both simply vanished shortly before Granger disappeared with Potter and Weasley. Apparently, the government doesn't take it lightly when two of their reserve pilots disappear just like that. Both her parents where in the reserve after active service."
"Pilots? I thought you said they were dentists?" Lucius asked. He knew what planes are and for some reason he also knew what pilots are.
"Yes. They used to be pilots and medics in the fleets air arms, but they switched to the reserve sometime around Ms. Granger's birth and specialized in dentistry. As their address stayed the same. So, they must have still been useful. Granger grew up surrounded by military personal. It certainly shows in her demeaner."
"Interesting. Well, Granger obviously wasn't able to find them again otherwise she wouldn't need the generous help of our establishment. So, her spell was probably too well?"
Irene sobered. "My contact in the ministry informed me that she sent them to Australia using the names Wilkins. But for some reason they never made it there. The poor girl wanted to protect them, and they just vanished. I feel almost sorry for her."
"Are her grandparents still alive?" Lucius asked and received a grin. "None on her mother's side. They died within three weeks of each other about two years ago. Couldn't live without the other. And as for her father's side, I have no idea. Couldn't find any evidence for that."
He casually leaned back. "That means she has no one."
"Well, she still has the Weasley's and Potter." he was reminded, and he scoffed.
"The Weasley's are paupers and her current boyfriend will soon grow tired of her when she continues to reject his advances. He is a bit too brash after all. Alienating her from them shouldn't be that hard."
"And why would you want that. You are going to buy her virginity and her prima nocte, but she will need a life after that." Irene reminded him. "She isn't like our other girls. Her conscience already weighs heavily on her."
"I don't care about her conscience. The auction and her prima nocte will not cover the expenses for her stay at Hogwarts. We can make more money with her, but for that she needs to be alienated from her friends. If she has nobody, she will be forced to stay in this arrangement for quite some time."
"Don't get ahead of yourself. She is like an old spinster. Completely uncomfortable shedding her clothes, analyses everything from a meta-perspective and comments sarcastically on it and has a complete disregard for her femininity. She has no sense of style or eloquence. Well, she could be eloquent, but chooses not to be. Instead she is feisty. She dresses practically and always ready to fight. It seems that Alastor Moody's teachings seeped in a bit too deep into her mind. I can train and prepare her only so far in that short amount of time. The rest is up to her. So, I can't guarantee that she will perform at her best."
"Even if she doesn't perform at her best the first time. We can train her afterwards. I certainly would look forward to teaching her a few lessons." He suggested.
"I'm sure you would, but there is something explosive lurking in her. Never in my long life have I seen eyes like that." Irene mused.
"Long-life? You don't seem that old to me." Lucius complimented her but she only rolled her eyes.
"You know that looks can be deceiving. She may seem docile, but her eyes are betraying her. I'd advise you to not push her too far."
"But I'm so looking forward to bringing that fire out of her." He answered huskily.
"That fire will burn you eventually, Lucius." She warned again, but he shook his head.
"She is a Muggle-born and therefore no danger."
"We don't know that." She interrupted his enthusiasm. "As I tried to explain earlier. We don't know anything about her father's line. And when I drew blood earlier for the health check, it healed instantly within a minute."
Lucius frowned. "Then her haemoglobin is strong and closed the small wound."
"No, Lucius. You don't understand. There is no wound. It healed entirely. I don't know any human or wizard alike, who manages that."
"What colour does her blood have?" Lucius wanted to know. After all she was a Muggleborn and the Mudblood myth had to come from somewhere. Irene put a small ampule on the desk.
"As you can see, it is beautifully red. St. Mungo's checked the other sample and found no antibodies of any kind. She is completely healthy. Blood type is 0 negative."
He nodded clearly pleased with the information. "So, she is a universal donor. Our nocturnal clients will certainly love that.
"I wouldn't be so sure about that. Hold it against the light." She advised him leaning back crossing her arms.
Lucius frowned and grabbed the sample holding it up towards the light. "Do my eyes deceive me or does it have a light blue shimmer like this."
"Yes, indeed it does. My vampire friend in the in St. Mungos told me that he is on the fence about the smell. On the one hand it smells deliciously fresh. 'With the promise of bringing him back to life'. She used air quotes. "But on the other hand, her smell apparently promises his' immediate demise' as well". He won't take part in the auction. None of his kind will.
"Veelas and Vampires are fast healers." Lucius mused but his counterpart shook her head.
"Neither of their blood shimmers blue. She isn't a Veela and definitely not a vampire."
"Werewolf?" Lucius straightened. If that was the case, somebody else could have the honour but Irene shook her head again. "Negative."
"What about her scar on her arm. I did tell you about my late sister in law marking her as a mudblood."
"I checked for it and almost missed it. It's barely visible. Just a very thin white line, that shows remnants of a previous injury. Curiously enough that fine white line spelling the word mudblood, is the only indication of a scar."
"That's impossible. She was injured almost each year. There have to be other scars." Lucius shook his head. "She was badly injured in the battle of the Ministry."
"There are none." Irene told him folding her hands.
"She is quite good at performing magic. Could she be glamouring them?" he enquired but the dame of the house shook her head again.
"No glamour. The house elves would have detected that."
"Now that is a mystery worth solving." He smirked.
"You will be unable to harm her with any wand or other weapon, Lucius. It's in the contract. Even you have to adhere to it. I'm protecting my girls from such dark thoughts after all and I'm keeping the blood sample."
"You don't trust me." He narrowed his eyes.
"Not with this girl, no. I promised her that I would keep her blood sample save and I adhere to it."
"I never intended to harm her." He defended himself. "Just let her pay a bit for what she has done."
"And what is that exactly?" Irene narrowed her eyes at him. "She is responsible that your family wasn't put in Azkaban. Her testimony was fair. If I were her, I'd put you in Azkaban rendering your ownership useless. Do I have to remind you of all the slander your son and his Slytherin's performed during her fourth year? The injuries she had to endure during her fifth year. And the torture she was subjected to in your manor? And yet, she chose to be fair during your family's trial. That alone shows her high moral compass. So, in a way, it is you who should treat her just as fairly, Lucius.
"Now, that is interesting. How long have you been watching her?" he rebuked crossing his arms wondering why she was so protective over their prize.
"Long enough. Muggle-borns are easy prey for us. You know that." She answered.
She panted as she finally reached the top of the hill and saw the tiny village in front of her. The familiar airfield was just down-hill to the north. She passed by familiar buildings and hovered shortly before the familiar house that was now in the possession of another family. She had taken her first steps in there encouraged by her abuela's words. A few blocks down she finally spotted the familiar churchyard and hesitantly walked through the dark ornamented gate. The gravel underneath her feet crunched as she meandered through the gravestones. A fresh cool breeze was breezing through the leaves, birds were chirping and… there was singing coming from inside the church. At that hour this could only mean that it was actually Sunday. She quickly put her hood up and found what she was looking for. Her grandparent's graves. Her heart broke. The grave had an air of abandonment. Weed was growing out from the edges of the tombstone. Brown earthly dust mixed with brown rotting leaves and moss was covering the memorial slab. Hermione sighed heavily and turned, checking if anyone had already left the mass early, but the singing told her that she was alone in the yard. She quickly took out her wand and uttered "Scourgify" and watched how the grime and dust slowly evaporate to leave clean granite behind. The weed was next to go, but for that, she used her hands and made sure to put protective spells around the grave, that no weed would be able to make a reappearance. She then checked the wreath, but even though it had been created with evergreens, they had long withered and turned brown and red. It was dead. Hermione put it aside. The singing inside the church had stopped and she could detect the first conversations of the pious churchgoers leaving the small country-side church. As much as she wanted to conjure a wreath for her grandparents, it was way too risky at the moment. She had to come back. She was crouched next to their graves and hoped that they wouldn't be able to see her. Fate was not so kind as she could hear one pair of feet coming closer to her.
"It's been a long time since I saw someone visiting the Granger's grave." The voice said and Hermione grit her teeth. Great the minister of this parish had to be the one to confront her. She couldn't stand that man. Had to do something that she had openly questioned his sermon years ago, which he had not taken lightly.
"That tends to happen when the family is further decimated," Hermione answered sourly, stood up and turned around.
"Hermione! Little Hermione Granger." He exclaimed smiling at her, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Mr Collins." She greeted him with tight lips.
"From your attire, I suspect you didn't come for my sermon." He stated.
"Well, I don't want to be struck down by lightning entering your church," Hermione stated defiantly. "And the holy water is definitely a huge turn-off. Could burn me alive."
He burst into laughter. This time it was genuine.
"That would certainly interesting to see." He laughed. "Your grandmother had the same dry wit."
"Nice to hear that I have at least something in common with her." Hermione huffed.
"Oh, she was confident that you'd follow your family's trade." He nodded. "You have more in common with her than you think."
"You don't know me, Mr Collins." Hermione didn't like how he was staring at her. "You have no idea how much I could have in common with my Abuela."
"She questioned my sermons just as much as you did and caused people in the entire parish to question them and our church." He sighed. "Wasn't exactly easy to get them to calm down."
"Well, she had the advantage of growing up in Catholic Spain and hearing the Anglican Version of your faith later when she was married to my grandpa. Must have helped her see how much irregularities and contradictions are taught in church."
"Well, people must believe in something. It gives them guidance in life. You, my dear, look quite lost. Believing in something could help you as well."
Hermione shuddered at that thought. "I don't need guidance from a centuries-old fraud. Look, Mr Collins. I don't want to start any ugly discussion about faith with you. All I wanted was to pay my respects to my grandparents. After all, I was close-by." Hermione wanted to end the conversation and tried to step past him, but he caught her arm.
"I know when somebody is lost. If you need somebody to talk to you are perfectly welcome to come and see me." He suggested staring at her.
Hermione ripped her arm out of his grasp. "Thank you for this suggestion, Mr Collins, but I'm perfectly capable to look after myself. Now, If you'll excuse me." He was the last person she wanted to talk to about her impending problem.
She quickly rushed out of the churchyard around the corner and apparated before anyone else could see her.